按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
asonable manner。
once a month they sent me an enormous official form calling upon me to state the number and condition of pick…axes； entrenching tools； coils of barbed wire； blankets； waterproof groundsheets； first…aid outfits； sheets of corrugated iron； and tins of plum and apple jam under my care。 i just entered ‘nil’ against everything and sent the form back。 nothing ever happened。 up in london someone was quietly filing the forms； and sending out more forms； and filing those； and so on。 it was the way things were happening。 the mysterious higher…ups who were running the war had forgotten my existence。 i didn’t jog their memory。 i was up a backwater that didn’t lead anywhere； and after two years in france i wasn’t so burning with patriotism that i wanted to get out of it。
it was a lonely part of the coast where you never saw a soul except a few yokels who’d barely heard there was a war on。 a quarter of a mile away； down a little hill； the sea boomed and surged over enormous flats of sand。 nine months of the year it rained； and the other three a raging wind blew off the atlantic。 there was nothing there except private lidgebird； myself； two army huts—one of them a decentish two…roomed hut which i inhabited—and the eleven tins of bully beef。 lidgebird was a surly old devil and i could never get much out of him except the fact that he’d been a market gardener before he joined the army。 it was interesting to see how rapidly he was reverting to type。 even before i got to twelve mile dump he’d dug a patch round one of the huts and started planting spuds； in the autumn he dug another patch till he’d got about half an acre under cultivation； at the beginning of 1918 he started keeping hens which had got to quite a number by the end of the summer； and towards the end of the year he suddenly produced a pig from god knows where。 i don’t think it crossed his mind to wonder what the devil we were doing there； or what the west coast defence force was and whether it actually existed。 it wouldn’t surprise me to hear that he’s there still； raising pigs and potatoes on the spot where twelve mile dump used to be。 i hope he is。 good luck to him。
meanwhile i was doing something i’d never before had the chance to do as a full…time job—reading。
the officers who’d been there before had left a few books behind； mostly sevenpenny editions and nearly all of them the kind of tripe that people were reading in those days。 ian hay and sapper and the craig kennedy stories and so forth。 but at some time or other somebody had been there who knew what books are worth reading and what are not。 i myself； at the time； didn’t know anything of the kind。 the only books i’d ever voluntarily read were detective stories and once in a way a smutty sex book。 god knows i don’t set up to be a highbrow even now； but if you’d asked me then for the name of a ‘good’ book i’d have answered the woman thou gavest me； or （in memory of the vicar） sesame and lilies。 in any case a ‘good’ book was a book one didn’t have any intention of reading。 but there i was； in a job where there was less than nothing to do； with the sea booming on the beach and the rain streaming down the window…panes—and a whole row of books staring me in the face on the temporary shelf someone had rigged up against the wall of the hut。 naturally i started to read them from end to end； with； at the beginning； about as much attempt to discriminate as a pig working its way through a pail of garbage。
but in among them there were three or four books that were different from the others。 no； you’ve got it wrong！ don’t run away with the idea that i suddenly discovered marcel proust or henry james or somebody。 i wouldn’t have read them even if i had。 these books i’m speaking of weren’t in the least highbrow。 but now and again it so happens that you strike a book which is exactly at the mental level you’ve reached at the moment； so much so that it seems to have been written especially for you。 one of them was h。 g。 wells’s the history of mr polly； in a cheap shilling edition which was falling to pieces。 i wonder if you can imagine the effect it had upon me； to be brought up as i’d been brought up； the son of a shopkeeper in a country town； and then to e across a book like that？ another was pton mackenzie’s sinister street。 it had been the scandal of the season a few years back； and i’d even heard vague rumours of it in lower binfield。 another was conrad’s victory； parts of which bored me。 but books like that started you thinking。 and there was a back number of some magazine with a blue cover which had a short story of d。 h。 lawrence’s in it。 i don’t remember the name of it。 it was a story about a german conscript who shoves his sergeant…major over the edge of a fortification and then does a bunk and gets caught in his girl’s bedroom。 it puzzled me a lot。 i couldn’t make out what it was all about； and yet it left me with a vague feeling that i’d like to read some others like it。
well； for several months i had an appetite for books that was almost like physical thirst。 it was the first real go…in at reading that i’d had since my dick donovan days。 at the beginning i had no idea how to set about getting hold of books。 i thought the only way was to buy them。 that’s interesting； i think。 it shows you the difference upbringing makes。 i suppose the children of the middle classes； the 500 pounds a year middle classes； know all about mudie’s and the times book club when they’re in their cradles。 a bit later i learned of the existence of lending libraries and took out a subscription at mudie’s and another at a library in bristol。 and what i read during the next year or so！ wells； conrad； kipling； galsworthy； barry pain； w。 w。 jacobs； pett ridge； oliver onions； pton mackenzie； h。 seton merriman； maurice baring； stephen mckenna； may sinclair； arnold bennett； anthony hope； elinor glyn； o。 henry； stephen leacock； and even silas hocking and jean stratton porter。 how many of the names in that list are known to you； i wonder？ half the books that people took seriously in those days are forgotten now。 but at the beginning i swallowed them all down like a whale that’s got