Читаем The Manticore полностью

"Oh, women have their own deep-lying image of Man, the Lover, the Warrior, the Wizard, and the Child – which may be either the child of a few months who is utterly dependent, or the child of ninety years who is utterly dependent. Men often find it very hard to carry the projection of the Warrior or the Wizard that is put upon them by some woman they may not greatly like. And of course women have to bear the projection of the Anima, and although all women like it to some degree, only rather immature women like that and nothing else."

"Very well. If the Anima is my essential image, or pattern of woman, why does she look like you? Isn't this proof that I love you?"

"No indeed; the Anima must look like somebody. You spoke of dreadful hags who assailed you in sexual dreams when you were a boy. They were the Anima, too. Because your sister and Netty could see you were in love, which I expect was pretty obvious, you projected witchlike aspects of the Anima on their perfectly ordinary heads. But you can never see the Anima pure and simple, because she has no such existence; you will always see her in terms of something or somebody else. Just at present, you see her as me."

"I am not convinced."

"Then think about it. You are good at thinking. Didn't you dislike me when the Shadow was being slowly brought to your notice; do you suppose I didn't see your considering looks as you eyed my rather perfunctory attempts at fashionable dress; do you suppose I was unaware of the criticism and often the contempt in your voice? Don't look alarmed or ashamed. It is part of my professional duty to assume these roles; the treatment would be ineffective without these projections, and I am the one who is nearest and best equipped to carry them. And then when we changed to the Friend, I know very well that my features began to have a look, in your eyes, of Felix's charming bear-expression of puzzled goodwill. And now we have reached the Anima, and I am she; I am as satisfactory casting for the role as I was for the Shadow or the Friend. But I must assure you that there is nothing personal about it.

"And now our hour is finished. We shall go on next day talking more about Judy Wolff. I trust it will be delightful."

"Well. Dr. von Haller, I am sorry to inform you, sibyl though you seem to be, that you are about to be disappointed."

<p>9</p>

The autumn that followed the war was wonderful. The world seemed to breathe again, and all sorts of things that had been taut were unfolding. Women's clothes, which had been so skimped during the war, changed to an altogether more pleasing style. When Judy was not in the Bishop Cairncross uniform she was marvellous in pretty blouses and flaring skirts; it was almost the last time that women were allowed by their epicene masters of fashion to wear anything that was unashamedly flattering. I was happy, for I was on top of my world: I had Judy, I was in my last year at Colborne College, and I was a prefect.

How can I describe my relationship with Judy without looking a fool or a child? Things have changed so startlingly in recent years that the idealism with which I surrounded everything about her would seem absurd to a boy and girl of seventeen now. Or would it? I can't tell. But now, when I see girls who have not yet attained their full growth storming the legislatures for abortion on demand, and adolescents pressing their right to freedom to have intercourse whenever and however they please, and read books advising women that anal intercourse is a jolly lark (provided both partners are "squeaky clean"), I wonder what has happened to the Davids and Judys and if the type is extinct? I think not; it is merely waiting for another age, different from our supernal autumn but also different from this one. And, as I look back, I do not really wish we had greater freedom than was ours; greater freedom is only another kind of servitude. Physical fulfilment satisfies appetite, but does it sharpen perception? What we had of sex was limited; what we had of love seems, in my recollection, to have been illimitable. Judy was certainly kept on a short string, but the free-ranging creature is not always the best of the breed.

That autumn Bishop Cairncross's was shaken by unreasonable ambition; the success of Crossings had been so great that the music staff and all the musical girls like Caroline and Judy were mad to do a real opera. Miss Gostling, after the usual Headmistress's doubts about the effect on schoolwork, gave her consent, and it was rumoured that unheard-of sums of money had been set aside for the project – something in the neighbourhood of five hundred dollars, which was a Metropolitan budget for the school.

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Великий французский писатель Виктор Гюго — один из самых ярких представителей прогрессивно-романтической литературы XIX века. Вот уже более ста лет во всем мире зачитываются его блестящими романами, со сцен театров не сходят его драмы. В данном томе представлен один из лучших романов Гюго — «Отверженные». Это громадная эпопея, представляющая целую энциклопедию французской жизни начала XIX века. Сюжет романа чрезвычайно увлекателен, судьбы его героев удивительно связаны между собой неожиданными и таинственными узами. Его основная идея — это путь от зла к добру, моральное совершенствование как средство преобразования жизни.Перевод под редакцией Анатолия Корнелиевича Виноградова (1931).

Виктор Гюго , Вячеслав Александрович Егоров , Джордж Оливер Смит , Лаванда Риз , Марина Колесова , Оксана Сергеевна Головина

Проза / Классическая проза / Классическая проза ХIX века / Историческая литература / Образование и наука