Moments of Being

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Moments of Being

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[BOOKS BY VIRGINIA WOOLF “The Voyake Out ‘Night nd Day + arden Kew Mons or Tuesday "jacobs Room “The Cominon Reader: Fit Series Mr. Dalleway ‘Tothe Ligatipuse 2lzndo: ‘Biography ‘A Room of Ones Ove, "The Waves Leuerto Young Poet The Common Reader: Second Series ye Fanh: A Biography ) "The Years “Taree Guiness Foner Fy: A Brophy “The Death ofthe Moth and Other Esays ‘Alzunted House and Other Shor Storey "The Moment and Other Essays The Captains Death Bed and Other Esays "AWrters Diary ‘Virginia Woolf and Lytton Stachey: Levers ‘Granite and Rainbow Contemporary Writes Gallet Essays for eons) ‘Mr Dalloway’s ary “The Leters of Virgina Wool (ae vleme) Freshwater: A Comedy ‘Moments of Being “The Diary of Virginia Woo (ze alam) Books and Portraits “The Pargiters: The Novel-Eeay Portion of The Mar 7 ‘Women and Writing The Virginia Wool Reader The Copomon Reader: Fist Series Anat Editon "The Complete Shorter Feson of Virginia Woolf “The Common Reader: Second Series Annotated Edidon ‘The Essays of Vigiia Wool, Vok One (1904-1012) ‘The Essays of Virginia Wool, Ol Two 1912-1918) ‘The Essays of Virgnia Wool, Vo Three (1919-1924) congenial Siri: The Seed Levers of Virginia Wool? [A Moments Liberty: The Shorter Diary of Virginia Wool? ‘\ Pasonate Apprentice! The Early Journal, 1897-1909 Moments of Being a EDITED WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND, NOTES by JEANNE SCHULKIND secoxp EpiTion | A HARVEST BOOK HARCOURT-BRACE & COMPANY ‘San Diega New York London‘ex copyright ©1085, 1076 yy Quen Bel nd Angelia Garnet. Iaurodaon snd ei mater pg © 108,170 ty Jeanne Sand Preface xpi © 168 by Jeane Schalk Align resend. No parc ofthis pbon may be reproduced or taranit' ay form or by any mean hore or mechani esdingpheccopy recoding, ‘an norton storage and eieval sy,wioUt ermiion nw rom the publisher. Pe espn ai pe ected ed bo4s Gr aft Dee” vee ea OF sonal cape cairn Die 244 GO keel op 1a ate eee eres Pelle et eta lle Eeaehere ‘Secondedion | Contents Preface aitors NotePreface'to the Second Edition ‘Fi Beh Leary hacen sci a evetyarten age pepe by Vein Wool wich came wiht glo Wied Bono lars unkoown ster rove tb mine nk beeen ‘Sot ‘pt and heap wien were roca tiger ae "h Seth oe Fe ema ctf rnp wis = ee Bers Nop.) Tenors ere ‘ice vi Corben to wat ne eons ‘Tae Bah Ltry pomp oan tenors aes of ety so tat (p72 bso) in wh Virgie Weal srs ily Late Stepin andthe ambiance asp ook erent asia fren dead ne rem Heroes aa ‘cna anne onl imporant cae ae eon esha inva nd an a wie, ad pen wale cor {ike eran senion vie beoaue to aeal aa mate ‘he pac «rover! ed mone plabed vent a te sagt sre an ape Tora? the Siteopt ser esa ‘eter ple elec han te eae oe Fete ee at ‘ors of pares ier chs Vga Won tection bat ‘Bs rag anton emt of cole, pd ed Acknowledgements ‘his book wat made posible by the content and cooperation of the Unite of Sasex Library, the Beis Libary an Ue oer of te {eyeah in Virginia Wolf wt, Qveatn Elland Anglia Gara ofr Bell and hiv wie, Over, wee Caractamtal genres (ving aid whenever i wat nese; they so povided me wi ech Seen leat and en ve cr who a cour oft taf ofboth bras mctoned above Boa bess petyapprcateds would like tank the publiien of Virginia Wools wrings fe permis to quote fem them a my Induction, an Mrs Lala Scie {Srenatng poste the resentation facets eite “Od Booby by inng pemision toe tera Sonne Beg Olen. Editor’s Note ‘This collection of autobiographical wriings by Virginia Woolf brings together unpublished material selected fom the Weolh archives tthe Brith Library and the Univer of Suter Library. ‘The later archive, Known a the ‘Monks House Paper, belonged to Leonard Woof, When he persuaded Quentin Bel to write the authorized biography of Virginia Woolf e placed the paper atthe fy go onto think of Leslie Stephen, the gaunt bearded man a erdinary type of man, in preference to the queer the uncaal Ee pro up the street, married to Many Thackeray. He was in i Sti the ett, win te had et nhs had wanes eo pent Heist Duckworth bt there ws sae rary her. Herbert was the pect type of public schol boys E27 "7h mind that intrested her. One evening she called onthe English gentleman, my father ad. She hove him; ana how ct E288 EE te ound them iting over th re together; a pletely he sated er is proved by the collape, the comes Je erred pir, with one child inthe nursery, and another to be <7 on alae tes on ote esse se de Ps Gate uly 9 F the rt June gh 1940 As we st down fo one eo day versniy ty ohn ae in ed whe abt he es puch tn taly aad ed the French ave Hopped Tee ay te ects tte th orn race, er Sess ver bt morning ih Ds bole bung and 0 ES. Sn ing and te men clog seer inthe Sant in nay roo at 9 Mfecensogh {gure and rn tay er iy er now fl tobe dsb, brn was ding the sce urs beten Silt Gent 057s i death in 14 SSE Nom and nerf expe witaue proto tote fl taf at aeage chart, News, when Sela ed, vas ut geen T fies anda ble In order to epi why Toy “Spon, and why, tough te word nt the ight one Creo fndone dare ea hima stange characte, sted ae tbe able to ib pain the oor ll of my own lan idan ody am mach nae age now tay own hen Te A. ga ypessipt ends here. The text now flows the BL 6973, esce "juin Lekman, who eventually became a partner of The Hogsth Pax {The Woot London sence fom July 13918 MOMENTS OF BEING But do I therere “udentand hm beter than aid? only queered the age of ta mes inpertant 0 that I shall fil to describe it, either from his point of veg = own? [se him now fom ound te corer not drely in foe? 2s Forts just a T rubbed out» good deal of the fee et ‘mother’s memory by writing about her in To the Lighthou, <"Y rubbed cut much of hs meta there to, Yet he st fader Until I wrote it out, I would find my lips moving oul be anuig wth him; raging gala his aying to sac eal oi How dpe ere nd thc yale; when Nema fr inte oe he meee edneiay and wok ook il el come over, mins wb seta ‘atin me, ong notin here leat with oe nly the other dy when Tread Freui® fo the Sst nyt discovered that this violently disturbing conflict of love and Tate ns ‘common feeling; and is called ambivalence. But before T analye ration at father and daughter, Twill oy to tc hs Ahk he mast have been not ome, bat othe wld a lange ‘He was alte ery Vitoran bo, brought up in he ene sarow, evangelical ye pote, highly iteleral et ee Betty utnesto Stopen family cht had one ft a apn, the other in Downing Steet. Sich ste obviow fst wntees et tis bography. And a i¢ goes on, itis also obvioa that Tox bring myself to follow it—how he went to Eton and was ‘unhappy; went to Cambridge and was in is ements wus tot cesee ‘poste was miscla;conched bis boat; and Chane ser dea ‘his Christianity—with such anguish, Fred Maidand once hinted ‘ome ate hash owe, adh thn te Pe any otber of the Vieiovan young men oateee he was Feo wing re papers went rer tg 1 far as Tcan se, the very type, ot mould, of so many Cambri intlectualy—ike George Treejan, Ike Chase Senger ie * Diy ety Dear “ee re . 2 gn sig Hl at ln the cry fe ny Sa a ee BEE Spog mcs the ea rane Ge Bg 1 Frederick Willi Mailand wrote the authorized “Life of Laie Se He mud Foret Fe oso Aust Mays Sage A SKETCH OF THE PAST 9 snot Tine later chee owt fi, iy pay besa tal ofl pee a et fre Ick tireqeen, a, Se ae the sl engin, hot ou, of ns at whan ini roi nes These eh of exo commer to catch my imagination; nothing dangles eo te. al contained and complete and already summed oma adie Tgpon epee, fete dbs arn Tne 7 aren eon src at fT wn the ee 2 ef xa wh nde am em wih hr yp he old Nino of Hagh ny Camilge tla yard menue handy; Wael | ty: How ey you fal shor How you mis the an her a oe Bt at he eine fam eed a ae my mene ha hon proved ft. The Harald sat fc ugh Walpole colour an ware hey Sec te ne Duro not pes them 2 peck Soe Moore a Mee 2 something 0 my fer’ see engraving —a “oo Se oem sha eld Aug Anny ede, be would wae Fie ch lent rage inet get hw he hed sere bun Tt ic bad sethng to do with smashing a erento; and nobly nobody could cand ae es semper tnt he could ot coma ad thay se aght worhip fram, bsbared of gu, of xaggraton, So ate sot nent twas Gu 1 nuppr 0 te SENS els tpi ely bee ot neous deny, sett eleay eed seem ay Bo was ay PEN conventon,spparte by the great men ef the dine CRE TEacyn tt en af enn vere natal uncon SER when ny tr warn oon an warn fal lowe. se rgenlas mess a scan who bad ts of pve inpiton; ZAR can semeniber my fathering of Steves, “he was ranean” Thon hd esi he Vicon se were Bec puns tere ano ned They resed erty sree esis eat Hoc bat capes and lok Thy wee SecaR Sr ive wit Bet ipever soc my tery T iat thre wes any Rm ning lt ie with Tk Ame Richie (ot Tae)no MOMENTS OF BEING A SKETGH OF THE Past uu te said unconcioly athe worked Masel up ito one sean wo if be eame info the rom changed wha ae lent outurs: “This a sig of my gen” aed hc cae aa ved very veal lie ia the minds of en ke ‘Carlyle to confirm him, and let himself fy. Tt was food fljlam or Herbert Fisher; to whom he was a representa- Convention tater te stunt te ean of nee le ear they een eee fo. aan “using apse bs he wah game Sere 2 ie Tuner Sin, Wate Headlm Wte© ‘Suter would accept his apology, that he was exempt, because of ie, then it must be all right. That gives what I mean. iit from the laws of ond focity. But was he 8 tan of eit “jus as I dribble on, purposely leting my mind flow, T am 'No; that was not alas quite the case. “Only a good secony a? suring & picturesque clement into the steel engraving; some~ "he once told me, as we walked around the croquet lawn porthat one cannot analyse. Was I not conscious of this as a ‘Fritham. And he said he might have done well to be a scientist. i? Was it not theorigin of the love half of my ambivalent feeling? ‘This frustrated desire to be a man of genius, and the kr My felt his attractiveness. It arose—to name some elements at {that he was in truth notin the first fight—a knowlege which lea 7 Fae ae from hissimplicity, his integrity, his eocentricity—by which 4 great deal of despondency, and to that slf-centednese which would say exactly what he though, however inconvenient; Ine i tet ade tin ily ety fr compinns phe He hd cl et inp, H had can sade him broods digroprtionaily ote his flute and theexeg fog pasos, Of he would sue with hls sandwiches for some oF an the estes rite tre guia at ee mnie OFT he woe eo ops fine steel engraving of the typical Cambridge intellectual, He ‘matter who was there, And he had very strong ‘opinions; and he hhad considerably more idiosyncracy, more character a8 a man—for me rextrernely well informed. What he said was thus most respect- Tam tying tose tan vo heen te a, Spl He had al, ee de, tang te Cantridg type For men the Lowel and Fred Maida sai iy He had an exon preg pstion 1 tied my ertertFuternot ol addi bia potting ms [ning ttm: "Pthr da "tld my mer hen he Jove for him; so I judge from his power to breed stories; to create a scted. “Ah but you can’t do everything father does,” she said, legend. Fred Maiand for instance told how they marched over the J tomveying to me that he was licensed, for he was somehow not ‘ Cornish moors all day and Lestie was silent; “but 1 felt we hid ‘poand by the laws of ordinary people. § become frends; and Lyton told me of ome Strachey cousin win | He waka curious figure thus siting often dead sent at the head very time his fot sang it knocked against a fire dog; and every | Thby expeilly instructive He would ask what was the cube root of lime my father ssid “Damon; but not another word. And the | uch and auch a number; fr he always worked out mathematical Strachey cousin was attracted. Mrs Comish too, speaing of it jms on railway tickets, or tld us how to find the “dominial ‘great attractiveness to Fred Benson, sid: “He did by instinct al} fumber"—when Easter falls was it? And mother would prott; ‘th lite things hat omen ike.” fo mathematic she would sy, at meas. Someties with an old Hie had clearly that—something—which isnot this quality or that | fend he would laugh, at a college story T suspect, tl the veins sqalty, but all sors of qualities summed up into what one call | eld on his forehead. Yes, certainly I felt his presence and had “character”; penonality; a way of impresing silence; a way ot | many a shock of acute pleasure when be fixed his wer small very limpresing the word “damn”; s0 that iFone points to hs obviout | tue eyes upon me and somehow made me feel that we fo were qualitien—his honesty, his unwordins, his lovablenes, his] lexgue together. There wos vorething we had in commen. “What perfect sincerity—one singling out from a whole single quater | ave you got hold of?” he would sy, loking over my shoulder at which were par of that whole; andthe whole was difren fom | thebook Twas reading; and how pro rigs, Iwas ite gave the qualities of which it was made, At any ate, I gather from | Bit tde amoved surprised snort, when he found me reading vome stores ftom memories, that Lie Stephen apart fom is books was | book that no child af my age could understand, T was 8 snob 20ua MOMENTS OF BEING oube and read party to make him think me avery bras And 1 remember his pleasure, Bow he seopped wang got up and was very gentle and pleased, when Teame into thee ‘wid a book I ad'done; and atked him for anoter Indeed Po) itn on hie se, ven when be was eeploing, He fad cone "remember, om a Sunday tarp, alin airy and madly rough sult and thereon the herr wane out in Dermod O'en* in love with Stl, and ake, oat eee to stay to dinner. Agai my fate ‘strode up and down the drawing ‘oom, groaning, swearing. He could say tach more then any ouldbeevewiboutearingittevicon -aoutDorced eee ‘The genius mood was on hi and mun be aceped Dil ie say iit wan? For sme reason that night while neg my ame halflaughing deprecation—shewangultytimpubieehoiaiees¢ stared hs mood not he. You are right, you are ight T Lae sepeatng surveying the see ot my ston on te eed X afioned my sympathy, ft my Ueto And top ta, hey {never sw hie wth anyhing ke the clarity that lew yo he was, intermittenly, expecially when his hair was curled in & thick bob behind his cary a very sting, inden’ seas figure; wel ree in his Fl Brothers’ clothes; aawallow tal oe Tag foam and tall and bent, with his board flowing so that hi itd sragay se cascly showed Hischin | in erst; phe hs mouth, which never se, was alle loselppeds Sot forebead rove and swelled; his sll was magaiScens wth tes dent over the arch ofthe bran, tat he mae me fel sey ak though his eyes were very smal, with hairy eyebrows hanging over them, they were pure bright egetme-nt ue: His hee wee beautifully shaped; and he wore a signet tng with ht dese oe exes engraved on a pale ue sone, Ara rifling sgn of ees nce to appearances, he went on menting the Sng hen te wee lost. He mt have put on hislotes utomately othe sooed sf pot, T expect; the waistcoat was een urbutioneds terete, they boos and the cant wae een grey wih bao eh Fe smoked pipes incesantyashewrotebut never in the ease oc ‘There he satin hisown chair, with a litle table beside him om which asa lamp and two or tee books, and my mother mt tekiog f Pemod O'Rei (1869-19), « welldnown amateur vas later active ora ati” Pee A SKETCH OF THE PAST ng ater writing table built nto very dark angle ofthe rom* Lowell’ sale to enuff er candles; and as my father read eked bis foot up and down, and twisted and uncwisted the Tock 1 his ear. He was always absorbed; often seemed completely scious of his surroundings; and lived by rote—that is always Frcerain moment would be up and off—upstirs to work, out to fk; every Saturday to visit James Payat; or off to some meeting out of doors he strode along, often shaking hishead emphatically pe recited poetry, and giving his stick a flourish. He wore 2° yeock hat always, wihich sat rather oddly upon that great ‘with the thick bush of hair fowing out on ether sie. And T ember him too in very respectable evening dress dining out ih my mother; and his back waistost had a cord round the edge, fend be wore elastic sided boot. “I shall be glad when all this Ting out is over, Jiny,” he sid to me, tanding wating by the amp and T was fttered by his confidence; yet felt that he enjoyed cs F "They dined out quite often in those day, and gave dinner parties too, Indeed for all his unconventionality, he accepted the rocial conventions so much more completely than we do that I wonder bow itis that I feel that he was remote from all that} Tecame quite saturally to him t drive off in a hansom in evening dre; he made 10 bones about dinner paris of eight or ten; and a hired parlour- taid, and a dinner which hed ever so many courses and diffrent ‘wines. Tean see him taking a lady downstairs on his arm; and laughing. He cannot have been at sepere and melancholy and morose 8 T make kim out. He must have made conversation and told snsctotes and he had, now I come to think of a litle card ease tnd went calling, Uke other Victorian genlemen of a Sunday sfternoon. Undoubtedly T colour my picture too dark, and the Lelie Stephen whom the world saw in the cightes, and inthe nine- ties unl my mather died, must have been not merely a Cambridge steel engraving intellectual. He must have been§) an attractive * VW has writen in the margin "bl in is accrate—at leas of sone the cabin when we left HEP. prt of the wall Bad fo Beet dows ‘ee this ean eabint was exit ¢ Jaes Pay, noel ad ator ofthe Cmill Magscine VW ha dawn a line though, “Ie Tsuppoe that 1 ace only 2 frognent fie” {VW bas drawn a line through “a man fdisineion”. ee ASTmy MOMENTS OF BEING sman at fifty; a man who had four small children, aid a beaut wife; a man who came into the drawing room in evening dres and marched off down to dinner with Mrs Gose, or Lady Romer, Mrs Booth, or Lady Lyttleton, just as he presided over London Library meetings and went to the Ad Eundem dinner at Oxlord cor at Cambridge. There was a Leslie Stephen sho played his part normally, without any oddity or outburst, in drawing rooms and ining rooms and committees. Sil, I cannot conceive my father in evening dres. I cannot concsive him hearing everything that wae ‘aid, and making jokes and being, ofcourse, an intellectual man, ‘but sla man ofthat well toda sociable late Victorian world, remember my amazement, my envy, when the Booths said thelr father took them to dances. How astonished T felt when Carles Booth said something humorous about “shepherding my flock” and I realised that Charles Booth tock Meg and Imogen t0 parties. When he and my mother drive off in their hansom which Amy bas whistled of the rank, sanding out in the stcet in her cap and pron and giving two sil blast Hl the hansom comes toting — fometimes two hansoms raced each other and dispated which had ‘come frst—when they descend the many step from the font door to the street, he pases beyond my horizon. Ihave never met anyone who knew my father in evening dress; I have never met him thus Gresed in memoir even, Yet he had great cherm for women, and was often atvacted, as T could tell from something gallant and’ tender in his manner, by the young and lovely. The name of an ‘American, Mrs Grey, comes back to me, and my mother somehow ‘conveying to me that I might tate him, at T exricated crumbs fiom his beard, about “Srting with pretty ladies". Those were the words [used and be looked at me not angry, for Twas onl acting 4 parrot; sill T remember the sudden shock, then he controlled what might have been a snort; and ssid something emphatic, ax to show me he would stand no jokes about that. There muceeeds to that shock » memory of the immente emphasis with which once, when we were disputing were mothers eyes large or small: "Your other's eyes are the most beautiful ia the world.” All che same T like to remember, for it gives humanity to his austere fgure, that he was $0 struck, so normally and masculinely affected by Mrs Langtry’s beauty, that he actually went to the play to see her Otherwise he never went to a play; never went to picture galleries; had no ext whatsoever for mosio~-when Joachim played a Lite A SKETCH OF THE PAST 45 Holland House, he asked, when iit going to begia?—the Beethoven, or the Mozart being to his eats only “tuning up”. a al his fe he ‘never troubled to Visit Iualy or France, Going abroad meant to him solely going to Switzerland to climb mountains; or gong to Switaer- fund t look at mountains Mecklenburgh Square again on a hot aummer day, July 1940. * nvasion sill impends. My book® is out; and jaded and distracted return to this free page. "The sociable father then I never knew. Father as a writer I can get of course in his books; the father who is related to the man’s Laie Stephen, I suppose. The Leste whom ro many waiters and scholars admired, though many thought him cold and sneering; {just as many thought him formidable and wild and inapproachabl He isto be found here and there in memoirs. He never spoke & word when Stevenson and Gose lunched with bim, and att silent ‘with his long cold hands and his fn shaped beard flowing over his Iveast. When T read his books Y get @ eral grasp on him 1 always read Hews ina Lilrary by way of ling oxt my ideas, ny of| Coleridge, iF1'm reading Coleridge; and always find something to All out; to corect; to stiffen my fluid vision. T find not a subtle rind; not an imaginative mind; not a suggestive mind. But a strong mind; a healthy out of door, moor striding mind; an ‘patent, limited mind; a conventional mind entirely accepting hisown standard of what s hones, whats moral, without a shadow of doubt accepting this sa good man; tha ea goed woman; I get sense of Leslie Stephen, the muscular agnosie; cheery, hearty; always cracking up sense and manlines; and crying down sentiment and vagueness, yet putting in a dab of sentiment in the right place — “Iwillsay no more. exquisite senaibility... thoroughly masculine feminine delicacy ...”. That shows a very simply constructed ‘ew of the world; andthe world was, I suppose, more simple then Tewasa black and white world compared with ours obviows things to be destroyed —headed humbug, obvious things to be preserved headed domeate vires Tadmire (aughingly) that Leste Stephen; snd sometimes lately have envied him. Yet he isnot a writer for whom T have a natural taste. Vet jst a4 a dog takes a bite of gra, Take a bite ofhim medicinally, and there often steals, nota fla, ge By: A Bingo ws published on 25 Sly.16 MOMENTS OF BEING ‘but a reader's affection for him; for his courage, his simplicity, or his strength and nonchalance, and neglect of appearances "Through his books T can get at che writer father sll; but when [Nessa and I inherited the rule of the house, I knew nothing ofthe seciable father, and the writer father was much more exacting snd presing than he is now that I find him only in books; and it was the tyrant father—the exacting, the vilent, the histinic, the demonstrative, the selfcenteed, the sal pitying, the deal, the appealing, the altemately loved and hated father—that dominated re then. Tt was lke being shot up in the same cage with a wild beast. SuppoteT fifteen, was nervous, gibbering, litle monkey, always spitting or cracking a mut and shying the shells about, and ‘mopping and mowing, and leaping into dark comers and then ssrnging in rapture aeros the cage, he was the pacing, dangerous, morose ion; a lion who was sulky and angry and injured; and sddenly ferocious, and then very humble, and then majestic and then Iying dusty and ly pestered ina corner ofthe cage, ‘Now Tahal try to dexrbe the cage—a2 Hyde Park Gate—as i was in July 1697. Two nights ago T lay avake in Mecklenburg Square going ver cach of the rooms. I began atthe basement; in the servant siting room. Tt was atthe back; very low and very darks there was an ottoman covered in shiny black American cloth slong one wall; and a vast racked picture of Mr and Mrs Pate Cavered the wall above it, T remember avery tall young man with tight trousers strapped over the instep, and white socks. Te was relegated to the room because it was s0 bg, so cracked, so bad— ‘compared with the Watts portraits uptair. One could hardly see iniwho was the wortan? T cannot see her—or anything ele; for the creepers hang down in front of the window, in summer strung with handshaped semi-transparent leaves. There was 30 om trellis to suppore them, and outside the litle, dastamelling, patchy square of wallcicled back garden. T remember the wood ‘pboard in the pasinge pile with bunles of fie-wood ted with tary string; once when Trummaged there fra stick to whittle, two yes glowed in a comer, and Sophie warned me that a wild eat lived there. Wild eats might have lived there. The basement was a dark insanitary place for seven maids to live in. “Te ike hell,” one of them burt out to my mother as we sat at lexons inthe dining ‘oom My mother at once asmumed te faen dignity ofthe Victorian ‘matron; and ssid (perhaps): “Leave the room”; and she (unfort A SKETCH OF THE Past a7 unate gil) vanished behind the red jausn curain which, hooped round a semicircular wire, and anchored by a great geld knob, fi the door that led fom the ding room to the pantry. Te was inthe dining room, at the long baie covered table, thar ‘we dd our lewons. My mother's finger with the opal ring I loved pointed is way across French and Latin Grammars. The dining oom had two litle windows filed with bottle glass at one end. Built into the aleove war a heavily carved sideboard; on which stood a blue china dumb-waiter; and a biscuit tin shaped lke & bared. The room smelt slightly of wine, cigars, food. Te was it also bya sbylight, one pane of which lited in a wind and made me shiver, lest it should crash on our heads. Round the walls hung Sir Joshua engravings in the corner on a pedestal of mottled yellow marble stood the bust of the ft Sir James*—an eyeles, white ‘nan who all presides in the hall of Adrian’s house in Regents Park, It was a very Victorian dining room; with a complete set of chairs carved in oak; high-backed; with red plush panels. At dinner time with allt slver candles, ver dishes, knives and forks and rapkins, the dinner table looked very festive. A twisting staircase Ted to the hal. In the hall lay a dog, beside him a bow of water with a chunk of yellow sulphur in it. Ta the hall facing the front oor stood a cabinet wit blue china; and on ita gold faced clock. In the hall was a three-comered chair; and a cher in which rugs were kept; and on this chest was a silver slver deep in visiting ‘ards; and a plush glove for smoothing the sik of George's and Geral’ top hats; and I alo remember mailed over the fire place long strip of chocolate coloured cardbeard on which was written: “What ts to be a gentleman? Tt is to be tender to women, chivalrous to servanel- "what ele T cannot remember; though T used to know it by heart. What innocence, what incredible timplicity of mind it showed-—to keep thie cardboard quotation — fiom Thackeray I think perpetually displayed, as if it were a fontspece toa book—nailed tothe wall in the hall ofthe hous. ‘The to drawing rooms opened ou of the all the front and the bck drawing room, The font, facing the street, was comparatively Tigh; the Wats portrait of father faced the door, a Natered, an iMealved picture, up to which father would lead admiring lad ‘and pause and’ contemplate it with some comolacency. But Sie James Stepion | |a 18 MOMENTS OF BEING “Lowell said it makes me look like a weasel." he once aid. There was the grand piano upon which Christmas presents were stood; and Stella's writing table in the window; and the round table in the middle, which, when supplemented by a small folding table hich has fllowed me, unweleomed, even to Monks House, mae the tea table. The tea table, the very hearth and centre of fanily 1, the tea table round which sat innumerable parties; on which, when Sunday came—the tea table's festival day-—pink shell plats were placed, fll of brown Sunday buns, fll of very thin slices of ‘white and brown bread and butter. ‘The tea table rather than the dinner ble was the dentre of Victorian family Hfe—in our family at least. Savages T suppote hhave some tree, or fireplace, round which they congregate; the round table marked that focal, chat sacred spet in our house. Tt was the centre the heart of the fail. Tt was the centre 19 which the sons returned from their work in the evening; the hearth whore fre was tended by the mother, pouring oxt tea. In the same way, the bedroom-—the double bedded bedroom on the fist floor was the sexual centre; the birth centre, the death centre ofthe house. Te was not a large room; but its walls must be soaked, if wall take pictures and hoard up what i dane and said with ll that wat most intense, ofall that makes the most private being, of family ie. In that bed four children were begotten; there they were born; there fit mother died; then father died, with 2 plctore of mother hhanging in font of him. ‘The house mounted in three roomed storeys above that bedroom. Above father's and mother’s bedroom fcor ‘were the three bedrooms of George, Gerald, and Stell above their bedrooms our night and day nurseries; above thatthe reat study with is high celing of yellow stained woods and the servants! bedrooms. There were different smells on diferent landings of that tall dark house. One landing smele perpetally of candle grease; for on a high cupboard stood all the bedroom. candles. On another haf landing was the water closet; with all the brass hot water eama standing by sink. On another half landing was the solitary family bath. (My father all his life washed in a Yellow tin bath with at ears on which the sap stood.) Purther up, was a brown filter from which ance the drinking water prenmably was supplied: in our day it only dripped alittle, At that height—it was onthe study haf landing—carpes and pictures had given out, and the top landing of all was a ltde pinched and bare. Once A SKETCH OF THE PAST ry when a pipe burst and some young nian visitor—Peter Studd?— oluntered help and rashed upstairs with a bucket, he penetrated {o the servants’ bedrooms, and my mother, I noted, seemed a ile ‘provoked’, a litle perhaps ashamed, that he had seen what must {hye been their rather shabby rooms. My father’s great dy—that uy had been builvon, when te family rew—was fine big room, ‘ery high three windowed, and entirely booklined. His old rocking | Ghar covered in American cloth was the centre ofthe room which twas te brain ofthe house. He had veriten al is books lying wank In that deep rocking chair; which swung up and downs fr i¢ was so deep that his fet were off the ground. Acros it lay his writing board with the sheets of folsap always folded down the middle, so that e could make corrections inthe margin. And there was his fine steel pen and the curiour china inkpot, with a well, idded, out atthe side. AI his books were dipped out ofthat well on the pinto Jouph Gilow' ong shanked stel pens. And Tremember the Fide st shield that his pen had rubbed smooth and hard on the joint of his forefinger. Minny's* porwait by Wats—a charming ‘hy face—nestling away, not noble, not herte, but shy and sweet, hung over the fireplace and in the corner by the window stood & stack of rusty alpenstocks. From the three long windows one looked out over the root of Kensington, to the presiding Church of St Mary Abbots, che church where our conventional marriages were celebrated-~and one day standing there father saw an eagle. Teas Thought, lke im that he knew it for an eagle at onees and at once verified the fact, from the pape, that it was an eagle that had escaped ffom the Zoo, He would not make up stories about wild eagles fying over London. ‘The room amele prpetally of| tobacen stoke. ‘The treet below was a cul-de-sac. Our house was near the blank brick wall at the end. Hyde Park Gate, which led nowhere, but made a litle vealed loop out ofthe great high road running from Hammersmith to Picedilly, was something lke « village set One heard fot steps tapping along the pavement. Most of the people pasing bowed to each other as they met. One recoguired them approaching. That wat Mrs Muir-MaeKenzie; handsome, Astnguished. That was the pale Miss Redgrave; or that vas the red-nosed Miss Redgrave; of that was the ancient Mrs Redgrave, Marit Marian Thacker, theft Ms Lae Stephen.20 MOMENTS OF BEING ‘veiled, in widow's weeds; going out in er bath chair with a Mig Redgravein attendance—ifitwas wet she had a glas pane let doy ‘9 that she looked like a museum specimen preserved under gla, ‘There was also, ina houre with queer fight of angular steps “Her Grace” asthe nutes called her—an old Duches of Grafton. There was the houte of the famous—somehow infamous—Mrs Biddulph ‘Marin, the rich Ameria, whose garden wall bulged out. “Why don’t you make a good job of it2” sd George to the workmen ‘who were pointing the wal, They said they could only carry out ‘orders; the wall continued to bulge- Mrs Biddulph Martin was tamished perhaps by some connection with women’s rights. $9 too certainly was Mrs Ashton Dilke, our next door neighbour Indeed man threw astone at her at some meeting; and my mother, ‘who had signed an ant-sufrage manifesto, holding that women had ‘nough todo in ther own homes without vote, madekind enquires through us, of the Dilke's governes. But Mrs Dilke, save for that ‘eccentricity, was the pink of fashion; a very prety woman, and s) ‘wel dresed, that we teed to notice her new dres, and to say “Mn Dilke has fr more new clothe than you have” to mother, who never had new clothes, and dresed always, I think, in very simple sewing woman made Black dres. And further up the street was ‘Aunt Minna’ hous, where she lived solitary with her pereniat parrot and her perennial Italian manservant He changed; but his fame was always Angelo; and he was always small and greasy; And played bagatlle with us in bis shirsleeves in the basement ‘The house with the locked gate and the many steps in the middle of the sect was famous forthe ‘big dog. People called Maude lived there; impecuniows, shifty, disreputable people; who coald ‘not pay tei ils; and thu kept ther gate locked and the big dog behind it to fighten duns, A one pase he sprang down the steps barking; and one day knocked me over and bit or bruised my arm. ‘Then the villager got together and brought a police court case; and Mr Plowden the magistrate wns so impressed by my evidence— ‘Srrather my state of ind that he ordered the dog tobe destroyed. “"But we don’ want him destroyed,” Mes MacKenzie insite, “only restrained.” For it wat agreed that it wasn't the poor Maude {els fhult—the handsome dark girls who lived behind the locked fate, caring duns, were tobe pitied for cheir disreputable parent’ Aiscreditable imprisoned lives. = Sarah Ely Duckworth the sitervawof aia Stephen. A SKETGH OF THE PAST 0 Exenbody knew everbody, and eveything about eveybo, in Hyde Park Gate, It was a trial, ify ei oo a ‘gro of fa paves caming nearer and ear tl you tad topo at ast smile The hous wer all india! hours some towering igh The ous; then, Hie the Redgrave long low howe lmest eh eh ip se woah the sect. But they Became stereotyped, pled, and pomp tp tthe top fontng the ain rad nceihe at now sem {an emember tat nea thee pornpons howe fad acarage and pair with a cnchman and fan who wore powdered Wis aud elimi kne breeches and lk eckngy, Ye towne were of oparculrimportanesend ye nobody thought ack magaioence sreravange. Perhaps oe hte ote every ain Hyde Fark Cate pen earings, rr one fom Hobe wha very able opened ‘great yard ine mdeFor here was only the red bus ake ope “nt Town” fer called yom you coal aor it fantom oc foarowhesler frm the rank 'The underground, ¢ Siphur melng seam clouded ‘tunnel with ams rnningy 1 ‘pp, rather dom, was ar awayvat Remington High Set, fr loscater Road. My futher not mcther alway tok the ved Bust them a aso by dy wa n now ar. fy ster Aidall her immense rounde—shopping caling visting hops and ‘ork house in omnia, She was th omnibus expert. She would Sip fom th reo the Bla, om thes tothe yelow, ad make them somehow nner and coney he al over London, Smetines ‘he would omc home very tie, owning that se had med es bos fo he usd been il tp, ote ad got beyond the ais of Ber Foust bus. But more stash woul have tome sory t ll ot her Bus adventres—a talk she ad had withthe conductor of how low paenger ad sud hr or that “She sat weeping T ‘ember sh sai “ad old nly lend he ay set bot” My father always climb on top and snoked is pipe; she 1 think seve id that, but sah coach the rer eat ad talked 0 the conductor He woud cl her his oubly athe wo tubby hes loupe thir way along the set, howe lf cms tors who lived ewer sion yea ort, fer he paling up tote in panengers destroyed teitcotiatons Once a yearabou Crisnat we sa race of peta viging ro the ders seatothe git ofthe Rotts Jv2 MOMENTS OF BEING ‘The atects were fill of horses. The stcets were littered with live brown ples of rteaming horse dung which boys, darting out among the wheels, removed in shovels The horses kicked and feared and neighed. Often they ran away. Carriages crashed together I remember in High Street; horses went spraviling they shied; they reared; wheels came of ‘The street rocked with hore, fad sinelt of horses. The horses were often gleaming, apick and span horses, with rrettes in thelr ears the fotmen wore cockades in their hats foam flecked the bright ser harness; coronets and coatsofarms were painted on panels and among the sounds of the ttreet—the tap of hoof the nish of wheels—one heard fingling and Ietalic noise at the hares shook and rated. But only solitary hhansoms, or litle high butcher? cart, or private broughams came clopping down our quiet Hyde Park cul-de-sc—our “backwater,” ‘father called it. ‘My room in that very tall house was atthe back. When Stella married, Vanessa and I were promoted to sparate bed sitting rooms; that marked the fact chat we had become, she at eighteen, Ta fiften, young ladies, My room, te old night nursery, was log narrow room, with two windows; the reside half was the living half the washrtand half was the sleeping al. Tt bad been ‘done up* ‘at George’ cost I rather thik all traces ofthe night nursery were Abolished, Im the living half was my wicker chair, and Stela's writing table made after her design with crossed legs and stained’ {green and decorated by her with a pattern of brown leaves (at that time staining and enameliing and amateur furniture decorating ‘were much the rage). On it stood open my Greek lexicon; some (Greek play or other; many ite botles of ink, pens innumerable; and. probably hidden under bloting paper, sheet of foolcap Covered with private writing in a hand so small and twisted as 19 bea family joke ‘The seeping side was dominated by the long Chippendale (imitation) looking glam, given me by George ia the hope that T ‘should look into it and leara to do my hair and take general care for my appearance. Between it and the washstand, under the window, was my bed. On summer nights, I would lie with the tvindow open, looking up atthe sk, thinkin, for I recall a story wrote then, about the stars and how in Bgypt some savage was looking at them; and alo listening. Very far off there was a hum of| trafic. Tn the mews one heard the stamp of horses; a clatter ofthe A SKETOH OF THE PAST 135 and buckets In a bedroom window, one of the Queen's re back windows opposite, I could see Sir Alfred Lyall dressing indow. Of a summer night T sometimes heard dance music and jaw the dancers siting out on the leads; saw them passing and pasting the window onthe stair. One night I ly awake horrified fearing, 25 I imagined, an obscene old man gasping and croaking and mutering senile indecences—it was a ca, T was told after rar; cats anguished love making. George, on the floor below, [ept a store of old elecric lightbulbs which he shied at cats—pop- pop they would explode against the wall. Often T would lie awake {i two or three, waiting for Nessa to come and see me after her party. I would read by the light of a candle, and blow it out as T Frard her and Gerald approaching. But Gerald pinched the top of the candle, Found the wax sf, and so detected me Which should I describe first—the living half of the room, oF the seeping half? They mutt be described separately; yet they were tdwnys running together. How they fought each other; that i, how ‘en T was ina rage in that room; and in despair; and in ecstasy; how I ead myself into a trance of perfect bli; then in came— ‘Adrian, George, Gerald, Jack, my father; how it was there I reteated to when father enraged me; and paced up and down scarlet; and there Madge® came one evening; and T could scarcely talk for happiness and there T'droned out those long solitary mornings reading Greek ... And it was from that room Gerald fetched me when father died. ‘There T frst heard dhose horeible that room, which is now I think cat into cubicles for the hotel aguets—after we left it beramea Guest house could bring ou its tows the busines man from Birmingham, the lady fom Chelten- aur up to see the Royal Academy, would be amused; alo pital; and pethaps one of them would say what an od, what an unwhole- some life for a gil of fieen; suppose they would add: “Such a Iie is quite impossible nowadays.” And T suppose that, if one of them had read Tote Liphtoue,o A Roomef Ones Oven o Th Conon + Margaret Vaughan (ne Symon4 MOMENTS OF BEING Aen, be ose might ny: Tie room emi great dea.» ‘ut coune wot tang when lived amy back rn Hfye] Fk) fae] of Birmingham busines men o lai fo Greteaha, But T was thinking elings lng thine tole that the two haves ytd with te Intent, the male 1 ites, whch tery er mth fle when with i ks trou leg and antennae pan ont the chy an AX. emerges ands quivering ie the token cae fr 2 momen its wings still creased; its eyes dazzled, incapable of flight. 7 Revs withe ec nt whe ete on mag have something very act ely from wis had happeed My mother death bd ben aiatentserrow-at thirteen ove cud ot mane enviage del with Ba els death vo ea, later fell on & diferent substance; a mind suff and being stu that was extraordinarily unprotected, unformed, unshielded, apprehensive, receptive, anticipatory. ‘That must’ always held 00d of minds and bodies st Sftcen. But beneath the surface ofthis pardcular mind and body lay sunk the other death. Even if 1 ‘were not flly conscious of what my mother’s death meant, I had been for two years unconscioudy absorbing it through Stel's ‘sent grief; through my father's demonstrative grief; again through i all the things that changed and stopped; the ending of society; of sgaictys the giving up of St Ives; the black clohes; the suppresons; I the locked door of her bedroom. All this had toned my mind and made it apprehensive; made it T suppose unnaturally responsive to Silla's happines, and the promise it held for her and for ws of ‘excape fom that gloom; whenonce more unbelievably incredibly — asifonc ad been violently cheated ofsome promise; more than that, brutally tld not to be sucha foo as o hope for things; I remember saying to myself after she died: “But thisis imposible; things aren't, ‘can’t be ike this"—the blow, the second blow of death struck on re; tremulous, filmy eyed ae T was, with my wings all creased, siting thee on the edge of my broken chrali ‘Yesterday (18th August 1940) five German raiders pased 10 clase over Monks House that they brushed the tre at the gate, Bat being alive today, and having a waste hour on my hands—for I and cannot write ater twelve—T wil oon with A SKETCH OF THE PAST 15 the time I had that room, when T was Steen that is, “us Ys'zs we called ourelves had become separate. That was jacd by our separate rooms. Yet we were not so separate a8 and gels, brothers and sisters often become when the boys To public schools and the sisters stay at home. Mother's and Jn deaths, I suppor, united us, We never spoke of them. Tcan ner how awkwardly Thoby avoided saying “Stella” when a ip ealled Sela was wrecked. (When Thoby died, Adrian and 1 that we would go on talking about him, “Yor there are so Mery dead people ow.”) This lence, we elt, covered somethings Doething that most files had not. But without that bond, mine en from my earliest childhood so close with both Nesa and ‘Thoby that fT desribe myself Y must describe them. ‘When Stella died ‘Thoby wat seventeen—two years older than I ut long before that I wae scutly conscious of him. Even asa Tite oy he was dominant amnong us, He could impose himself. He was fot clever; be war not a funny talkative child; he was a clumsy fovkward lite boy, very fat, bursting though his Norfolk acket. He dominated and led in our world. But even to the grown ups he was rather formidable. Father had to be sent for once or twice {remember Toby struggling ke a tiger with Gerald, He was lange and clumsy. He grew very quickly out of marery ways. T cannot remember him childish, as Adrian was. Bub then mother was ot 39 ‘auch at her ence with him as with Adrian. Nor he with her. He was fot clever; but gifted, And hie gifts were natural to him, naturally it came to him to look distinguished; to be silent, to draw. He would take a sheet of paper, old it at an odd angle and begin Casly naturally, drawing a bird, not where I expected, but at some queer place 50 that T could not guess how the bird weuld become a rd. Hee was not precacious; but won prizes now and then, yet filed to win a scholarship at Eton. His Latin and Greek were very rough, I think dhe masters sid. But his esays showed great inteli- sence, Yet it was through him that I fist beard about the Grek "The day after he came back ftom Bvelyns, the fit time, he was very shy; and odd and we went walking up and down the stair together; and he tld me the tory of Hector and of Troy. T elt he The material that follows i a revision of the manuscript MBA. 54, which was tamcibed on pages 107-47 in the orginal edition of Moet Bag Se16 MOMENTS OF BEING wat too shy to tll it siting down; and so we kept walking up sti tnd then down; and he told me the story rather Stull, but ‘xeltedly. Also he told me stories about the boys at Bvelyns. Those stories went on all through Evelyn, through Clifton, and through (Cambridge. I knew all his friends through those stories. He had a sreat power for king people, for admiring them. And they amused Fim; [think T fle that he enjoyed Evelyne; and Clifton, becaure he liked being on his own, and Beld his own; and was admired, but was alto dominant there too. He held his own, he put up with iagreeables; he was far more philosophic, because more in his clement at school chan Adrian was. And he exacted his ight. The ‘Pup had to apologise when he put ancther boy over him as head of the house; he was not going to be passed over. He was not easy to ‘put upon. And yet he had no reason to assert himself; he didnot expect to win things; he admired the boys who were ood at fot Dall; good at Latin; but unenviouly. I felt he had taken stock ‘of his own powers; would come into possion of them all in good time; and enjoyed slowly and deliberately without being worried ‘or-upset whatever came his way at Clifton. He was tolerant; not criteal not precocious; biding his time, and serenely taking his place. And beneath this reserve, when he was with us, fl, cough he could not say a word ever about hiseetings a dumb affectionate- nes, a pride in us, and something melancholy too— perhaps the deaths of mother and Stcla made him older than his age. And fathers extraordinary demonstrative love for him. \ | continue (aand September 19a) on this wet day—we think of weather now ait affects invasions, a it affect rads, not as weather that we ike or ditike privately continue, for Iam ata twist ‘my nove toil n another page. Twas writing about Thoby when left off. And lst nigh, trying to wothe myself to sleep (for Twas in a pucker, at Clive calls, about the Anrepst coming here) T ‘thought about St. Yves. 1 wil write about St Ives, and so fittingly, ow at workon Bete Act which a this period ieee 1A Wr’ Dir, fo “oyatzet Hall of Poynts Hall 1'VW war upset Docu abe fezed~mistakenly a turned out—dhat eden Aap, the companion of Roger Fry unt his death, wat planing to-move permanently to Rodaell wih her son and daughter Clive’ i ot oune, Give Bl A SKETCH OF THE PAST "7 vag indreetly, lead up to Thoby again, St Ive wil him in. "Father on one of his walking tour, it must have been in 1881, 1 vink—dacovered St Ives. He must have stayed there, and seen alland House to let. He must have seen the town almost as it had! een in the sixteenth century, without bots or vil; andthe Bay ait had been since time began. Te was the fet year, T dink, that the ine was made from St Erth to St Ives—before tha, St Tves was féght miles ftom a railway. Munching his sandwiches up at ‘Tregenna perhaps, he must have been impressed, in his sllent way, by the beauty of the Bay; and thought: this might do for our sumer holiday, and worked out with his usual caution ways and ‘means Iwas t be bora in the following January; and, though they rsd to Hit eeir fly, and did what chy could to prevent me, fhe must have known that they were not succes inthe steps they took; Advian was born a year after me (1683)—again, in spite of precautions. Tt proves the ease and amplitude of those days that a fan to whom money was an obsenon thought feasible to take a fouse onthe very toenail ashe called it, of England, 0 that every ¥ summer be would be faced with the expense of moving children, © ures, servant from one end of England to the other. Yet he di it ‘They rented the house from the Great Western Railway Company. ‘The distance did prove in one way a drawback for we could only go there fn the summer. Our country thus was canalised into two oF at ‘mot into three months of the year. The other months were spent ‘entirely in London. Yetin retrospect nothing that we had as children ‘made as much difference, was quite so important tous, as our sur mer in Comal. The country wat intensified, after the months in London to go away to Cornwall to have our own house; our owe arden; to have the Bay; the sea; the moors; Clodgy; Halesiown Bogs Garbis Bay; Lelant; Trevail; Zennor; the Gurnad’s Head; to hear the waves breaking that frst night behind the yellow blind; to dig in the sand; to go silng ina fhing boat; to seabble over te rocks and see the red and yellow anemones flourishing thelr antennae; of stuck Ike blobs of jelly tothe rock; to find a small {ih fapping in a pool; to pick up cores; to look over the grammar in the dining room and see the lights changing on the bay; the leaves ofthe excallona gry or bright green; to go down tothe town, and buy a penay box of dntacks or a pocket knife; to prowl about TTanhams—Mrs Lanham wore false cuts shaking round her head the servants said Mr Lanbam had married her ‘through an advertse-18 MOMENTS OF BEING rent’ o sel all the Sahy smells inthe step ite eet; and see the innumerable cas with thelr fchbones in their mouths; and the ‘women on the raised steps outside their houses pouring pails op diry water down the gutters; every day to have a great ish o¢ (Cornish cream skinned with a yellow sking and plenty of brows sugar to eat with Blackberries. T ould fll pages remembering ‘one thing ater another. All together made the summer at St Ive the best beginning to life conceivable. When they took Tolland House father and mother gave ur—me at any rate—what har been perennial, invaluable. Suppose I had only Surey, or Sussex, or the Ine of Wight to think about when T think of my childhood ‘The town was then much sit must have ben in the sixteen century, unkown, unvisited, a sramble of granite houses cruting the slope inthe hollow under the Island. Te must have been bul for Shelter; for a few fishermen, when Cornwall wae more remote from England than Spain or Aca isnove. twat step ile town ‘Many houses had a fight of steps with a railing leading to the door. The walls were thick blocks of granite but to stand the sea storms. They were splashed with a wath the colour of Cornish ream; and their roughness was like the clot ofeream. There was nothing mellow about them; no red brick; no sft thatch. The eight centh century had let mark wpon St Ives as it has 20 deftly "pon every southern village. It might have been buile yesterday inthe ine ofthe Conqueror. Ichad noarchitecture;noarrangement ‘The market place was a jagged cobbled open place; the Church was on one side; built of granite, ageless, ike the houses; the fh market stood beside it, There was no grass in front off. Te stood flash to the market place. ‘There were no carved doors, large ‘windows, no lintels; no moss; no comely professional howes. Tt wes 1 windy, noisy, fishy, vociferous, narowstreeted town; the colour ofa musel ora limpet; likes bunch of ough shell sh clustered on a ‘rey wall together. Our house, Talland Hour, was just beyond the town, om the hill For whom the Great Wester Railway had built, I 6q not Jnow. Te must have been in the fortes, or ites; a square house, Tike a child's drawing ofa house; remarkable only fr its fat rook and the eriserosed railing that ran round the rof; again like tomething a child draws. Te stood in « garden that ran downhill; and had formed itself into separate garden, rurrounded by thick ‘sealonia hedges, whove leaves, prewed, gave outa very sweet sel, A SKETCH OF THE PAST a9 bad 10 many angles cu off, and lawna surrounded, that each had Tzame; there was the coffe garden; the Fountain—a bad with a 3 dripped, hedged in with damp evergreens; the cricket wn; the Love Comer, under the greenhouse, where the purple grew—where Leo Manse proposed to Kitty Lushington ‘thought T heard Paddy talking to his son, Thoby said, over essing the proposal). ‘Then there was the Kitchen garden; the "grenberry beds; the pond where Willy Fisher sailed the ile feeaners be rade with a paddle worked by an elastic band; and the big tee. All thee diferent, cut off places were contained in that one garden of not more than two or three acres. One entered bya lange wooden gate, the sound of whos latch clicking was one colibe friar sounds; up the earrlage deve one went, under the steep wall of rock, sprinkled with the fleshy leaves of the mesembry- nihemums; and then came to the Lookout place, between the ‘dumps of pampas grax. The Lookout place was grassy mound, {hat jutted out over the high garden wall. There we were aften tent to stand to lookout fr the fall of the signal. When the signal fall t was time to tart forthe station to meet the wai. It was the train that brought Mr Lowell, Mr Gibbs, the Stillmans, the Lshingtons, the Symondees. But it was a grown-up affair—recetving fends. We never had frends to stay with us. Nor did we want them. "Us four” were completely selfulfiient. Once when a child called Eli was brought by Mrs Westlake to play with us I “broomed ber round the garden”. I remember scufing her ike a drift of dead leaves in font of me. From the Lookout place one had then, a perfectly open view across the Bay. (Mr Symonds sid thatthe Bay reminded him of the Bay ‘of Naples) Tt was a large Bay, many curved, edged with a slip of sand, with green sand his behind; and the curves flowed in and tutto the two black rocks atone end of which stood the black and white tower of the Lighthoue; and at the other end, Hayle river smade a blue vein acres the sand, and stakes, on which always & ‘gulls, marked the chanel into Hayle Harbour. Ths great flowing. basin of water was always changing in colour; it was deep blue; ‘emerald green; purple and then stormy grey and white crested ‘There was a great coming and going of ships across the bay. Most ural, it ara Haines steamer, wih aed or white band round the funnel, going to Cardi for eal. Tn rough weather, sometimes one ‘would wake to find the whole bay fll of ships, that had eome in130 MOMENTS OF BEING ‘overnight for shelter—ltle ramp steamers mostly, with 8 pin the ‘middle, But sometimes a big ship would be anchored there} once s battleship; once a great salling ship; once a famous white yache ‘Then every morning the clumsy luggers went out, deepsea fihing, and in the evening there was the mackerel let, its High d vp and down; and the fet returning, rounding the headland ant suddenly dropping their ail, We would stand with mother on the Lookout place watching therm "Every yeat, about the fist week in September, we would ery ‘The pilchard boats are out!” There they were being hauled down the beach, where they lay one behind another al the rest of the yer, Horses were struggling to draw them over the beach. They were anchored near the shore, and looked like Tong black shoes, fo each had a hood forthe watchman atone end, ad a great col of net secines they were called—at the other. The tarring ofthe pilehard oats was a regular occupation; and made the beach always ‘smell slightl of tar. There they lay week after week, and were stl lying when we let in October, walting for the Huer who eat at his telescope up in the white shelter on Carbs Bay point to sight « shoal He sat there looking for a purple stain of pilchards to come {nto the bay and beside him was a great horn of some kind. Year afer year the boats lay inthe bay. The seines were never shot. The fishermen grumbled that the steam trawlers at Newlyn (perhaps) Jad disturbed the pilchards; and driven them out to sea. Once, though, as we stat lesons we heard the Huer’s ery—s long high clear hoot of sound. Then fishermen rowed out tothe boats. We stopped lessons. The seines were shot. A dotted circle of corks fated here and chee over the dark net beneath, But the plchards ppased out of the bay that time; and the eeines were drawn in again, (Tt was in 1905, when we four took a lodging at Carbs Bay that the pilchards came. We rowed out early in the morning. The sea spurted and spat and bubbled with silver. A stranger in the next boat shovliedarmful of that bubbling mass into our boat. "Like some fesh fish for breakfast?” he said-—everyone was exited and Jubilant; and boat after boat was weighed down to the water line ‘with fish. And we went down to the harbour and saw them packed. [wrote description oft, and sent it tosome paper; which rejected it. But Thoby teld Ness, who tld me, that he thought T might be "We would often op aod tak to him i ighly penile rough j A SKETCH OF THE PAST 1s! 4 ofa gen) All the yar we wor at St Toes the plchards et Camino the ay; andthe pchard boats lay ther, anchore, ng and we sed fo sri Out and hang ont the ee, and et ‘id man Tying in bis brown tarpaulin tem, Seepog watch. Sealing pilehard boats wa ] a sight chat made father pth nwa ne Head co pmpaty re power of ‘Ener pope: eect fr fermen, ke he rene Alpine And ithe, of cour, go to Know them in thelr howe, rent about, “dng good” ar Stella wie wo aveitsaidon her none ae vised, heped, and ware her ming oy. her death it became the Jolin Pisep Stephen Nuning Nrciaton; Meredit and the Symonds and Sillmans con Sted tot and Ka Arnold-Fortert told me not 0 log ago that cs Auguat the Regatta took place in the bay. We watched the Judge’ boat take its station, with lines of litle fags = fang from miss to mast. The St Tves notables weat on bosrd. A. band played. Wafs of music came acros the water. All the litle 7 poatscame ot ofthe harbour. Then a gun was fed end the races began. Off went the boat—theluggrs, the pleasureboas the rowing ‘ons; racing round the diferent courses chat were marked by fags round the bay, And while they race, the swimmers got ready ina line on the Regatta boat for thir race. The gun feds they plunged and we could see the litle heads bobbing and the arms Fashing and heard the people shouting as one swimmer gained on another, One year our charming curly headed young postman (I remember the brown Tinen bag in which he carried letters) should fave won; but he explained to Amy later “let the other chap win, becauett washisan chance." Te was avery gay igh, with the flags ying, the guns fring, the tons mailing, and the swimmers plunging or being hauled back on bear. A crowed of t Ives people gaered to watch in the Malakofl, that octagonal space a the end ofthe Terrace which had been built, presumably, in the Crimean War and was the only attempt that the town made at omament, St Ives had no pleasure pcr, no parade, only this angular gravelly patch of ground, st with afew + Gorge Meret, the novelist and poe. 1 Ro Arion noe Katharine Cox a NooPagn’ Fabian and ‘Newnham, who wat vlved ina rter ory love ai with Rope ‘Broke1 MOMENTS OF BEING stone seats upon which retired fuhermen in thelr blue jeney, ssroked and gosiped. The Regatta day remains in my mind, with its dineant mae ts litle strings of flags, che boats sain and the people dotted onthe sin, lke a French picture Tm those days St Ives, save for ourselves and casual wandering painters, had no summer visitors. Its customs were its own customs; ke festivale ite own too. There wat the August Regatia. Then once in every twelve years or 0," old men and women over seventy danced round Krils Monument—a granite steeple ina clearing land the couple who danced longest were given a sling? hal « ‘rown?—by the Mayor—Dr Nicholl, on that oceason, who wore a Tong fur timmed closk. St Ives had a relic, ut arlic in se ofthe ‘past—Charle Pearce, the town erir. Now and again he shufleg ‘long the font swinging matin bell and exying “Oyez, Oyes, ‘Oyer.” What be went on to say, I do not know, sve that on one ‘occasion, when a visitor at Talland House lst a brooch, she had it ‘tied by Charlie Pearoe. He was blind, or nearly; with along wasted face, grey eyes, like the eyes of af that hasbeen boiled, and he wore a battered top hat, a frock coat tghay buttoned round his angular body, and he shuffled oddly from side to side as he went swinging his bell, and crying “Oyez, Oyer, Oyer.” We knew him, at we knev so many of the town characters, through the servants, in particular through Sophie, who had many fiends ‘mong them. We knew all the tradespeople, who came up the drive to the Kitchen doos, carrying their parcele—Alice Curnow, with ‘the washing in a great basket; Mrs Adams the fsherweman, who brought fishin another basket—the lobsters still av, ssl blu, ‘hobbling about in dh basket. The lobster would beset on the kitchen table, and the great law would open and shut and pinch one. Can [Tbe remembering fact when I think I remember a long thick sh ‘wriggling on a hook in the larder, and that Gerald beat i o death ‘with broom handle? "The ktcoen, Sophie's htchen, for she was dominant overall the other “denizens of the kitchen”, as we called them in the Hyde Park Gate News, was directly beneath our night nursery. At dinner time we would letdown a basket on a string, and dangle it over the Iktchen window, Ihe were in a good temper, the basket would be drawn in, laden with something from the grown-ups dinner and * his ceremony ak pce every ive not every twelve ean, A SKETCH OF THE PAST 3 pushed saying out again. If she was in “one of her tempers” the fmsket was sharply jerked, the string cut, and we [were] let bling the dangling string. T can remember the sensation of the avy basket, and ofthe light string. ‘Every afternoon we “wen fra walk Later these walks became ‘a penance. Father must have one of us to go out with hie, Mother insted. Too much obveed with his health, with his plearares de tes 0 willing, as T think now, to sacrifice us to him. twas thys that she lft us the legacy of his dependence, which after ber death ‘became so harsh an imposition. It would have been} beter for our relationship iF she had left him to fend for himeel. But for many she made a fetish of his health; and so—leaving the effect {pon us out of the reckoaingahe wore herself out and died at forty-nine; while he lived on, and found it very dificult, so healthy was be, to die of cancer at the age of seventy-two, But, though T 4p i, wil venting an old grievance, chat parenthesis, St Ives gave tall the same that ‘pure delight” which is before my eyes at this very moment. The lemon-coloured leaves on the elm tree; the apples in the orchard; the murmur and rustle of the leaves makes te pause here, and think how many ocher than human forces are always at work on us. While T writ this the light glows an apple becomes a vivid green; I respond all through me; but how? Then a ile owt [chates}* under my window. Again, I respond. Figura- tively T could snapshot what I mean by some image; I am a porous ‘vest afloat on sensation; a sensitive plate exposed to invisible rays fand so on. Or I fumble with some vague idea about a third voice; T speak to Leonard; Leonard speaks to me; we both hear a third vole. Instead of labouring all the morning to analyse what I mean, to discover whether T mean anything eal, whether I make up of tel the truth when I see myself taking the breath of these voices in sysils and tacking this way and that through daily as I yield to them, T note only the existence of this influence; suspect it to be of iret importance; cannot find how to check its power on other eople—does Louie fel it? Doct Percy? Which of the watching the incendiary bomb extinguished on the hill lst night ‘would understand what I mean if they read this?—T erect a finger post ere, to mack a vein T will some time ty to work out; and etur tthe surface; that is St Ives * line has been drawn trough ‘cate! and an indecipherable word tas been pened in. ; ‘ ; ' 5 : : : : 5it MOMENTS OF BEING ‘The regular Sunday walk was to Trick Robin o, as father Het to cal it, Tren Crom. From the top, one could see the two seas, St Michac’s Mount on one side; the Lighthouse on the other Like all Cornish hills, it was seatered with Blocks of granite; said some of them to be old tombs and altars; in some, holes were driven, a if for gate posts: Others were piled up rocks. The Loggan rock was on top of Tren Crom; we would se ¢ rocking; and be told that perhaps the hollow in the rough lickened surfice was forthe victim's blood. But father, with his severe love of truth, disbelived its he sad, in his opinion, this was no genuine Loggan rock; but the natural disposition of ordinary rocks. Lite paths led upto the hil, between heather and ling; and our less were pricked by the gorse—the blazing yellow gorse with its sweet nutty mel. Another walk, a short children’s walk, was to Fairyland, as we called that solitary wood, witha broad wall circling it We walked on the wall, ‘and looked down into a forest of oak trees, and great fens, higher than our heads. Tt smelt of cak apples; it was dark, damp, silent, ‘mysterious. A longer, an adventurous walk was to Halestown Bog Again father corrected us; Helston Bog we called it; th real name ‘was Halestown. In that bogwe sprang from hag tohag;and the hage squelched and we plunged up tothe knee inthe brown bog water. ‘There the Osmunda grew; and the rare maidenair fern. Beter than these walks, a teat announced perhaps ance a fortight, wat an afternoon saling. We would hire a lugger; the Sherman went with us. But once Thoby was allowed to steer us home. “Show them vou can bring her in, my boy,” father said, with his usual trust and pride in Thoby. And Thoby took the fsherman’s place; and steered; lshed and with his blue eyes very ble, and his mouth set, he sat there, bringing ut round the peit, nto harbour, without letting the sail ag, One day the sea was ful of pale ely fish, lke lamps, with steaming hair; but they stung you if you touched them. Sometimes lines would be handed ut; bated by gobbets ct from fh; andthe ine thrilled in one’s fingers asthe boat tossed and shot through the water; and then—how ean I convey the ‘excitement?—there was a litle leaping tug; then another; up one hhauled; up through the water at length came the white twisting fish; and was slapped on the for. There it lay flapping this way and that in an inch or two of water. ‘Once, after we had hung about, tacking, and hauling in gurnard| after gurnard, dab after dab, father said to me: "Next time i you A SKETCH OF THE PAST 135 re going tosh Ishan't come; I don’ ike to see fish caught but you io if you like.” Te was a perfect leon. Tt was not a rebukes forbidding; simply a statement of his wn feling, about which ‘could think and decide for mye. Though my pasion for the and the tg had been peshaps the most acute T thea knew, his Hrd slowly extinguished it; leaving no grudge, 1 ceased to wish Meatch fh. But from the memory of my own pasion Tam sil She to construct an idea of the sporting passion. Tt is one of thove, Invaluable seed, from which, since itis impossible to have every ‘esperence filly, one can grow something that represents other foe's experiences. Often one has to make do with seeds; the of what might have been, had one’s life been diferent. 1 [> Pigeonbole ‘Bsbing’ thus with other momentary glimpse; like thowe *fapid glances, for example, that T catt into basements when T walk in London streets ‘Oak apples, fers with clusters of sed on their backs, the regatta, Charlie Pearce the click ofthe garden gate, the ans swarming on the hot front door step; buying tintacks; sailing: the smell of Halestown Bog; splits with Gomish cream for tea in the farm howe at Trevail, the floor of the sea changing colour at lesons; «ld Mr Woltenhalme in his bechive chai; the spotted elm eaves on the lawn; the roo cawing as they pased over the house in the early ‘morning; the excallonia leaves showing their grey uidersides: the arin the air, like the pip ofan orange, when the powder magazine ft Haye lew up; the boom ofthe buoy—thesefor Some reason come ‘ppermest at the moment in my mind thinking of St Ives—an* Incongrioo® miscellaneous catalogue, lite corks that mark a sunken net. ‘And to pull that net, Inving its contents unsorted, to shore, by way of making an end where there is no tuch thing, T add: for fo or three years before mother's death (1892-g-4, that i) ‘ominous hints reached the nurery that the grown ups talked of leaving St Ives. The distance had become a drawback; by that time George and Gerald hac) work in London. Expense, Thoby's school, Adrian's school, became more urgent. And then just opposite the Lookout place a great square oatmeal coloured hotel appeared ‘when we came down in July. My mother said with her dramatic igstures, chat the view was spoilt; that St Tves would be ruined. For all these reacns, then, a house agent's board appeared one (October in our garden; and as it needed repainting T was allowed136 MOMENTS OF BEING to fil in some of the leters—This House to Let—fom a pot of ‘paint, The joy of painting mingled with the dread of leaving. But for a summer or two no tenant came. The danger, we hoped, was averted. And then in the spring of 1895 mother died. Father In- standly decided that he wished never tO see St Tves again. Ang perhaps month later Gerald went down alone; sete the sale of ‘ur lease to some peop’ called Millie Dow, and St Tes vanished for ever { recover then today (October 11th 1940) a mild Auturnn day (London battered last night) fom these rapid acts only one actus picture of Thoby; steering us round the point without letting the fall flap. T recover the picture of a schoolboy whose jacket way rather tight; whose arms shot out of their eves. He looked sulky; trim; his eyes became bluer when he was thus on his mete; his face fushed a litle. He was feling earlier than most boy, the weight laid on him by father's pride in him; the burden, the responsibilty of being teated as & man ‘Why do Tshik the task, not vo very hard toa professional—have. 1 not conveyed Roger from one end of life to the other?—like smypel of wafting this bo from the boat to my bed sting room [Hyde Park Gate? Te is because T want to go on thinking about Se es. T have che excuse that I could, if T went on thinking, recall ‘many other pictues; bring im in again and again, And i is not ‘only an excise; for always round him, ike the dew that collects in beads on a rough coat, there hangs the country; butterfes; Dieds; muddy roads; muddy boots; horses Bt iis tre, T do not want 10 go into my room at Hyde Park Gate. I shrink from the years 1897-1904 the seven unhappy year. Not many lives were tortured and ffetted and made numb with non-being as ours were then. That, in shorthand, was the legacy of {hoe wo great unnecessary blunders; thoe two lashes ofthe random tunbeeding, unthinking fl that broally and poindeay killed the two people who should have made thse years normal and natural i not ‘happy Tam not thinking of mother and of Stella; I am thinlang of the damage that their deaths infictod. I wil dere it more earefily Tater Twill lustre with a scene or two. That is why T do not wish o bring Thoby out of the boat into my room. A SKETCH OF THE PAST 137 ‘Without those deaths, to hark back to an eater though, tis true that he would not have been to genuinely, though dumbly, pound tus IF there i any good (I doubt it) in these mutilations, tis that it senses. If to be aware of the insecurity of life, to remember something gone, to fel now and then, overwhelmingly, tT fet for father when he made no claim toi, a passionate fumbling fellowship iti is « good thing tobe aware of allthis at fifteen, sxe, seventeen, by fits and sarts—i ff. But was it good? ‘Would it not have been better (i there i any sense in saying good and better when there is no posible judge, no standard) t0 go on fering, a8 at St Ives, the ruth and fumble of famly lie? To be family surrounded; t9 go on exploring and adventaring privately while all the while che family as a whole continued its prosaic, rumbling progress; would thi not have been better than to have hd that protection removed ;to have been tumbled out ofthe family shelter; to have had it cracked and gushed; to have become ctiteal tnd sceptical of the family? Perhaps to have remained in the {amily believing in it, accepting it, at we should, without those two | deaths, would have given us greater scope, greater variety, and certainly greater confidence. On the other hand, Lean put another ‘question: Did those deaths give us an experience that even iit was * sumbing, mutilating, yet meant that the Godei(as T used to phrase id) were taking us seriously, and giving us a job which they would © not have thought it worthwhile to give—say, the Boothe or the ‘Mlimans? Thad my usual vnual way of putting i. 1 would see (after Thoby's death) two great grindstones (as T walked round Gordon Square)® and myself between them. T would stage a cifct between myself and ‘them’ T would reason that i ie were thus made tear and kick, it wae a thing tobe ridden; nobody could say ‘they’ had fobbed me of with a weak litle feeble alip of the ‘precious matter, So I came to thnk of ie aa something of extreme realty, And this ofcourse increased my sense of my own importance [oti relation to human beings; in relation to the force which had respected me suilently to make me fel myself ground between srindstones Teseems to me therefore that our relaion (Thoby's and mine) was + When Laie Stephen ded in 19 the four Stephens moved frm 23 ide Fark Gate wo 45 Gordon Square, Blomabary. " Doublreading138 MOMENTS OF BEING more serous than it would have been without those deaths. The Tumpolan tought—T have roughly vimsalied it—wae ther, ig bi in me; when he came into my room at Hyde Park Gate, J, was behind our arguments. We were, of course, naturally attracte, to each other. Besides his brother's fecing (and he wa protective, he had T think an amused, surprised, questioning attitude to me xp ‘an individoal. T was a year and a half younger; and a girl. A sh Jes ite creature, I chink he thought me; sheltered, in my room, compared with him; an ingenious, eager tener to his schoo stories; without any experience of my own with which to cap hx ‘but not passive; on the contary, bubbling, inguistve, rete, contradicting. We had branched of, after that rambling up and down sain, to read on our own. He had consumed Shakespeare, somebiow or other, by himself He had peseased himself of im his large clumsy way, and ou fist arguments, since I listened pasively to the story ofthe Greeks on the sare outide the water coset, outside the candle grease smelling landing, were about Shakespeare re would sweep down upon me, with hi anertion tha everything wasn Shakespeare. He let the whole macs that be held i his grasp Geacend in an avalanche on me. I revolted. But how could T oppose all that? Rather feebly; geting red and agitated. Sill i was then ry genuine feng that a play was antipathetc to me. How did they begin? With some dull speech a hundred males from anything ingeresting. To prove it I opened [Tlf Nigl]* and read “It music be the food of love, play on ...” I was downed that time, ‘And he was ruthless; exasperating; downing me, overwhelming te; ‘with enough pasion to make us both heated. So that my oppotiton cannot have been quite ineffectual. He made me fel his pride, it ‘was like his pride in his fiends in Shakespeare —shufling of Falstaff, he pointed out, without a sign of sympathy. That large natural inhumanity in Shakespeare delighted him. Tt was a tees way of shedding its leaves. On the other hand, when Desdemona wakes again, he thought poribly Shakespeare war ‘sentimental ‘These are the only particular criticisms that 1 remember, for he was not, as Tam, a breaker off of single words, or sentences, nota note taker. He was more casual rough and ready and comprehensive. ‘And so I didnot get fom him any minute comments; but elt rather that Shakespeare was to him his other world: the lace where he The typescript ever blank space for the tle. A SKETCH OF THE PAST 199 1 the measure ofthe daly wold. He ook his bearings thre: Sted ws up from that standard, ft once that he wat bal Mnkng of Falstaff and Hal and Mosher Quikly and the rena las smoker in the underground, when thee wat sme guable between drunken men; and be at tthe conc, wit his ‘in his mouth, looking over the edge of newspaper; miveying ‘Blo; uoperurbed; equppeds asi pacing ie all fl aot only the) that he new hi own place; and rele hs inertane, Tt be sented the bade; was beady, in ansiption, law tealer; proud of hs station asa man; ead to play Bs part among teen Had he been put on, be would have proved most ryaly. The tords Walter Lamb ued of him were very Siting.® fo we argued; about Shakcpenre; about many many thing; and olen Ist our temper; But were atacied by sme common ‘nition. The spot in Grays Tan where, walking home oe nigh, fesaid to me: "always wonder what he man in ren thinking” 1 fee doe that come om?) by which Twaselated, knowing him iomean that he wanted me to tak—[wented) my opinion that fag none inthe dark ial one of my uawubmerged lands. But tow reserved we were! Brothers and sites today talk quite fely together about—ah everything. Sex, sodomy, periods, nd s0 on- We never talked much abot ourelves even T can reall no coafenes, n0 compliment; no Hz no wf analy between fee and him. As forse, he paved om cildhood 1 boyhood, {rom boyhood to manhood under our ees, in oar pretence, without saying singe word that could have been taken fo a igh of what ie wat feling. Did other boy fall in love with hizn? Not be with them, fr a certalny. Prom Clive T learnt later (when tlk wat about everyihing) that Lyon's sodomy was to him one of the sock jokes; on ofthe Srache's preporteous, laughable absurdities. Yer beneath that slence—t maybe kept cool and sve, tay be sven a depth and serious, an emotional power and quality that, speech destoy>—dvelt ase great cepiblty, great senaity, {Fest pride in us whove photographs were always on his Sreplce St Canbelge; and all hose desires which would have made him a rom the final spooch of Fortinbras in Hat, “Let four captain) ‘Bear Hamlet ke a dirt the atagey/For he was Likely, bad ben put on/To have proved most royal ---+” Waler Lamb, elder brother of te painter Henry Lamb and cline Gicad of Thoby, was at Tay Calle, ambridge ttt tt tel Lt te festenteetat oct ek oan i

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Never Split the Difference: Negotiating As If Your Life Depended On It
Chris Voss
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (838)
The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer
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The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer
Siddhartha Mukherjee
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (271)
Devil in the Grove: Thurgood Marshall, the Groveland Boys, and the Dawn of a New America
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Devil in the Grove: Thurgood Marshall, the Groveland Boys, and the Dawn of a New America
Gilbert King
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (266)
On Fire: The (Burning) Case for a Green New Deal
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On Fire: The (Burning) Case for a Green New Deal
Naomi Klein
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (74)
Principles: Life and Work
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Principles: Life and Work
Ray Dalio
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (599)
The Unwinding: An Inner History of the New America
От Everand
The Unwinding: An Inner History of the New America
George Packer
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (45)
Fear: Trump in the White House
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Fear: Trump in the White House
Bob Woodward
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (738)
Rise of ISIS: A Threat We Can't Ignore
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Rise of ISIS: A Threat We Can't Ignore
Jay Sekulow
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (137)
The Hard Thing About Hard Things: Building a Business When There Are No Easy Answers
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The Hard Thing About Hard Things: Building a Business When There Are No Easy Answers
Ben Horowitz
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (345)
Steve Jobs
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Steve Jobs
Walter Isaacson
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (806)
The World Is Flat 3.0: A Brief History of the Twenty-first Century
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The World Is Flat 3.0: A Brief History of the Twenty-first Century
Thomas L. Friedman
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (2259)
Bad Feminist: Essays
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Bad Feminist: Essays
Roxane Gay
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (1016)
Angela's Ashes: A Memoir
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Angela's Ashes: A Memoir
Frank McCourt
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (440)
The Glass Castle: A Memoir
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The Glass Castle: A Memoir
Jeannette Walls
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (1713)
The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are
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The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You're Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are
Brené Brown
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (1090)
John Adams
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John Adams
David McCullough
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (2409)
The Outsider: A Novel
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The Outsider: A Novel
Stephen King
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (1839)
The Light Between Oceans: A Novel
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The Light Between Oceans: A Novel
M.L. Stedman
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (789)
The Sympathizer: A Novel (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction)
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The Sympathizer: A Novel (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction)
Viet Thanh Nguyen
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (121)
A Man Called Ove: A Novel
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A Man Called Ove: A Novel
Fredrik Backman
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (4609)
Wolf Hall: A Novel
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Wolf Hall: A Novel
Hilary Mantel
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (3811)
Brooklyn: A Novel
От Everand
Brooklyn: A Novel
Colm Toibin
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (1937)
The Woman in Cabin 10
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The Woman in Cabin 10
Ruth Ware
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (2322)
Little Women
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Little Women
Louisa May Alcott
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (104)
Manhattan Beach: A Novel
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Manhattan Beach: A Novel
Jennifer Egan
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (792)
The Perks of Being a Wallflower
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The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Stephen Chbosky
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (2104)
Sing, Unburied, Sing: A Novel
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Sing, Unburied, Sing: A Novel
Jesmyn Ward
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (1103)
The Art of Racing in the Rain: A Novel
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The Art of Racing in the Rain: A Novel
Garth Stein
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (4200)
Her Body and Other Parties: Stories
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Her Body and Other Parties: Stories
Carmen Maria Machado
Рейтинг: 4 из 5 звезд
4/5 (821)
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
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A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Betty Smith
Рейтинг: 4.5 из 5 звезд
4.5/5 (1929)
The Constant Gardener: A Novel
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The Constant Gardener: A Novel
John le Carré
Рейтинг: 3.5 из 5 звезд
3.5/5 (104)