Мартин Иден

Chapter 7

           Helookedup,anditseemedthattheroomwaslifting,heeling,andplunginglikeashipuponthesea. Thenhehurledthe"SecretDoctrine"andmanycursesacrosstheroom,turnedoffthegas,andcomposedhimselftosleep. Nordidhehavemuchbetterluckwiththeotherthreebooks. Itwasnotthathisbrainwasweakorincapable; itcouldthinkthesethoughtswereitnotforlackoftraininginthinkingandlackofthethought-toolswithwhichtothink. Heguessedthis,andforawhileentertainedtheideaofreadingnothingbutthedictionaryuntilhehadmasteredeverywordinit. 

           Poetry,however,washissolace,andhereadmuchofit,findinghisgreatestjoyinthesimplerpoets,whoweremoreunderstandable. Helovedbeauty,andtherehefoundbeauty. Poetry,likemusic,stirredhimprofoundly,and,thoughhedidnotknowit,hewaspreparinghismindfortheheavierworkthatwastocome. Thepagesofhismindwereblank,and,withouteffort,muchhereadandliked,stanzabystanza,wasimpresseduponthosepages,sothathewassoonabletoextractgreatjoyfromchantingaloudorunderhisbreaththemusicandthebeautyoftheprintedwordshehadread. ThenhestumbleduponGayley’s"ClassicMyths"andBulfinch’s"AgeofFable,"sidebysideonalibraryshelf. Itwasillumination,agreatlightinthedarknessofhisignorance,andhereadpoetrymoreavidlythanever. 

           ThemanatthedeskinthelibraryhadseenMartintheresooftenthathehadbecomequitecordial,alwaysgreetinghimwithasmileandanodwhenheentered. ItwasbecauseofthisthatMartindidadaringthing. Drawingoutsomebooksatthedesk,andwhilethemanwasstampingthecards,Martinblurtedout:- 

           "Say,there’ssomethingI’dliketoaskyou." Themansmiledandpaidattention. 

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