Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Thereitbroke,thereitfailed,thereitbecamerealism,grim,unlovely,unyielding.Tobetrue—anditwasthefirstarticleofhiscreedtobeunflinchinglytrue—hecouldnotignoreit.Allthenoblepoetryoftheranch—thevalley—seemedinhismindtobemarredanddisfiguredbythepresenceofcertainimmovablefacts.Justwhathewanted,Presleyhardlyknew.Ononehand,itwashisambitiontoportraylifeashesawit—directly,frankly,andthroughnomediumofpersonalityortemperament.But,ontheotherhand,aswell,hewishedtoseeeverythingthrougharose-colouredmist—amistthatdulledallharshoutlines,allcrudeandviolentcolours.Hetoldhimselfthat,asapartofthepeople,helovedthepeopleandsympathisedwiththeirhopesandfears,andjoysandgriefs;andyetHooven,grimyandperspiring,withhisperpetualgrievanceandhiscontractedhorizon,onlyrevoltedhim.Hehadsethimselfthetaskofgivingtrue,absolutelytrue,poeticalexpressiontothelifeoftheranch,andyet,againandagain,hebroughtupagainsttherailroad,thatstubbornironbarrieragainstwhichhisromanceshattereditselftofrothanddisintegrated,flyingspume.Hisheartwentouttothepeople,andhisgropinghandmetthatofaslovenlylittleDutchman,whomitwasimpossibletoconsiderseriously.HesearchedfortheTrueRomance,and,intheend,foundgrainratesandunjustfreighttariffs.

           “ButthestuffisHERE,”hemuttered,ashesenthiswheelrumblingacrossthebridgeoverBrodersonCreek.“Theromance,therealromance,isheresomewhere.I’llgetholdofityet.