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Chapter 20 — Mr. Bedford in Infinite Space
Ican’tprofesstoexplainthethingsthathappenedinmymind.NodoubttheycouldallbetraceddirectlyorindirectlytothecuriousphysicalconditionsunderwhichIwasliving.Isetthemdownherejustforwhattheyareworth,andwithoutanycomment.Themostprominentqualityofitwasapervadingdoubtofmyownidentity.Ibecame,ifImaysoexpressit,dissociatefromBedford;IlookeddownonBedfordasatrivial,incidentalthingwithwhichIchancedtobeconnected.IsawBedfordinmanyrelations—asanassorasapoorbeast,whereIhadhithertobeeninclinedtoregardhimwithaquietprideasaveryspiritedorratherforcibleperson.Isawhimnotonlyasanass,butasthesonofmanygenerationsofasses.Ireviewedhisschool-daysandhisearlymanhood,andhisfirstencounterwithlove,verymuchasonemightreviewtheproceedingsofanantinthesand.SomethingofthatperiodoflucidityIregretstillhangsaboutme,andIdoubtifIshalleverrecoverthefull-bodiedselfsatisfactionofmyearlydays.Butatthetimethethingwasnotintheleastpainful,becauseIhadthatextraordinarypersuasionthat,asamatteroffact,IwasnomoreBedfordthanIwasanyoneelse,butonlyamindfloatinginthestillserenityofspace.WhyshouldIbedisturbedaboutthisBedford’sshortcomings?Iwasnotresponsibleforhimorthem.
ForatimeIstruggledagainstthisreallyverygrotesquedelusion.Itriedtosummonthememoryofvividmoments,oftenderorintenseemotionstomyassistance;IfeltthatifIcouldrecallonegenuinetwingeoffeelingthegrowingseverancewouldbestopped.
