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14 - Moon and Sixpence by W. Somerset Maugham · Moon and Sixpence

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  Speaker 1: Chapters thirty seven, thirty eight, and thirty nine of The
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  Speaker 1: Moon and Sixpence. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
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  Speaker 1: recordings are in the public domain. For more information or
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  Speaker 1: to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording by Barryeades.
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  Speaker 1: The Moon and Sixpence by William Somerset Maum, Chapter thirty seven.
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  Speaker 1: The circumstances of Blanche Strew's death necessitated all manner of
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  Speaker 1: dreadful formalities, but at last we were allowed to bury her.
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  Speaker 1: Dirk and I alone followed the hearse to the cemetery.
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  Speaker 1: We went at a foot pace, but on the way
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  Speaker 1: back we trotted, and there was something to my mind
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  Speaker 1: singularly horrible in the way the driver of the hearse
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  Speaker 1: whipped up his horses. It seemed to dismiss the dead
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  Speaker 1: with a shrug of the shoulders. Now and then I
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  Speaker 1: caught sight of the swaying hearse in front of us,
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  Speaker 1: and our own driver urged his pair so that we
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  Speaker 1: might not remain behind. I felt in myself too, the
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  Speaker 1: desire to get the whole thing out of my mind.
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  Speaker 1: I was beginning to be bored with a tragedy that
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  Speaker 1: did not really concern me, and pretending to myself that
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  Speaker 1: I spoke in order to distract Strove. I turned with
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  Speaker 1: relief to other subjects. Don't you think you'd better go
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  Speaker 1: away for a bit? I said? There can be no
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  Speaker 1: object in your staying in Paris now. He did not answer,
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  Speaker 1: but I went on ruthlessly. Have you made any plans
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  Speaker 1: for the immediate future? No, you must try and gather
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  Speaker 1: together the threads again. Why don't you go down to
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  Speaker 1: Italy and start working again? He made no reply, but
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  Speaker 1: the driver of our carriage came to my rescue. Slackening
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  Speaker 1: his pace for a moment, he leaned over and spoke.
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  Speaker 1: I could not hear what he said, so I put
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  Speaker 1: my head out of the window. He wanted to know
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  Speaker 1: where we wished to be set down. I told him
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  Speaker 1: to wait a minute. You'd better come and have lunch
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  Speaker 1: with me, I said to Diric, I'll tell him to
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  Speaker 1: drop in the place Pigale. I'd rather not. I want
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  Speaker 1: to go to the studio. I hesitated a moment. Would
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  Speaker 1: you like me to come with you? I asked? Then no,
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  Speaker 1: I should prefer to be alone, all right. I gave
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  Speaker 1: the driver the necessary direction, and in renewed silence. We
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  Speaker 1: drove on Dirc had not been to the studio since
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  Speaker 1: the wretched morning on which they had taken Blanche to
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  Speaker 1: the hospital. I was glad he did not want me
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  Speaker 1: to accompany him, and when I left him at the door,
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  Speaker 1: I walked away with relief. I took a new pleasure
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  Speaker 1: in the streets of Paris, and I looked with smiling
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  Speaker 1: eyes at the people who hurried to and fro. The
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  Speaker 1: day was fine and sunny, and I felt in myself
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  Speaker 1: a more acute delight in life. I could not help it.
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  Speaker 1: I put Strove and his sorrows out of my mind.
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  Speaker 1: I wanted to enjoy so ends Chapter thirty seven, Chapter
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  Speaker 1: thirty eight. I did not see him again for nearly
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  Speaker 1: a week. Then he fetched me soon after seven one
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  Speaker 1: evening and took me out to dinner. He was dressed
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  Speaker 1: in the deepest morning, and on his bowler was a
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  Speaker 1: broad black band. He had even a black border to
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  Speaker 1: his handkerchief. His garb of woe suggested that he had
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  Speaker 1: lost in one catastrophe every relation he had in the world,
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  Speaker 1: even to cousins by marriage twice removed. His plumpness and
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  Speaker 1: his red fat cheeks made his morning not a little incongruous.
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  Speaker 1: It was cruel that his extreme unhappiness should have in
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  Speaker 1: it something of buffoonery. He told me he had made
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  Speaker 1: up his mind to go away, though not to Italy,
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  Speaker 1: as I had suggested, but to Holland. I'm starting tomorrow.
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  Speaker 1: This is perhaps the last time we shall ever meet.
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  Speaker 1: I made an appropriate rejoinder, and he smiled wildly. I
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  Speaker 1: haven't been home for five years. I think i'd forgotten
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  Speaker 1: it all. I seemed to have come so far away
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  Speaker 1: from my father's house that I was shy at the
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  Speaker 1: idea of revisiting it. But now I feel it's my
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  Speaker 1: only refuge. He was sore and bruised, and his thoughts
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  Speaker 1: went back to the tenderness of his mother's love. The
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  Speaker 1: ridicule he had endured for years seemed now to weigh
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  Speaker 1: him down, and the final blow of Blanche's treachery had
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  Speaker 1: robbed him of the resiliency which had made him take
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  Speaker 1: it so gaily. He could no longer laugh with those
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  Speaker 1: who laughed at him. He was an outcast. He told
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  Speaker 1: me of his childhood in the tidy brick house, and
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  Speaker 1: of his mother's passionate orderliness. Her kitchen was a miracle
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  Speaker 1: of clean brightness. Everything was always in its place, and
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  Speaker 1: nowhere could you see a speck of dust. Cleanliness indeed
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  Speaker 1: was a mania with her. I saw a neat little
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  Speaker 1: old woman with cheeks like apples, toiling away from morning
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  Speaker 1: to night through the long years, to keep her house
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  Speaker 1: trim and spruce. His father was a spare old man,
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  Speaker 1: his hands gnarled after the work of a lifetime, Silent
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  Speaker 1: and upright. In the evening, he read the paper aloud,
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  Speaker 1: while his wife and daughter, now married to the captain
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  Speaker 1: of a fishing smack, unwilling to lose a moment, bent
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  Speaker 1: over their sewing. Nothing ever happened in that little town,
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  Speaker 1: left behind by the advance of civilization, and one year
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  Speaker 1: followed the next, till death came like a friend to
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  Speaker 1: give breast to those who had labored so diligently. My
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  Speaker 1: father wished me to become a carpenter like himself. For
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  Speaker 1: five generations, we've carried on the same trade from father
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  Speaker 1: to son. Perhaps that is the wisdom of life, to
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  Speaker 1: tread in your father's steps, and to look neither to
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  Speaker 1: the right nor to the left. When I was a
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  Speaker 1: little boy, I said I would marry the daughter of
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  Speaker 1: the harness maker who lived next door. She was a
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  Speaker 1: little girl with blue eyes and a flaxen pigtail. She
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  Speaker 1: would have kept my house like a new pin, and
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  Speaker 1: I should have had a son to carry on the
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  Speaker 1: business after me. Struve sighed a little and was silent.
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  Speaker 1: His thoughts dwelt among the pictures of what might have been,
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  Speaker 1: and the safety of the life he had refused filled
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  Speaker 1: him with longing. The world is hard and cruel. We
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  Speaker 1: are here, none knows why, and we go none knows whither.
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  Speaker 1: We must be very humble. We must see the beauty
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  Speaker 1: of quietness. We must go through life so inconspicuously that
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  Speaker 1: fate does not notice us. And let us seek the
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  Speaker 1: love of simple, ignorant people. Their ignorance is better than
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  Speaker 1: all our knowledge. Let us be silent, content in our
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  Speaker 1: little corner, meek and gentle like them. That is the
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  Speaker 1: wisdom of life to me. It was his broken spirit
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  Speaker 1: that expressed itself, and I rebelled against his renunciation. But
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  Speaker 1: I kept my own counsel. What made you think of
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  Speaker 1: being a painter, I asked. He shrugged his shoulders. It
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  Speaker 1: happened that I had a knack for drawing. I got
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  Speaker 1: prizes for it. At school. My poor mother was very
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  Speaker 1: proud of my gift, and she gave me a box
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  Speaker 1: of water colors as a present. She showed my sketches
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  Speaker 1: to the pastor and the doctor and the judge, and
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  Speaker 1: they sent me to Amsterdam to try for a scholarship,
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  Speaker 1: and I won it. Poor soul, she was so proud,
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  Speaker 1: and though it nearly broke her heart to part from me,
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  Speaker 1: she smiled and would not show me her grief. She
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  Speaker 1: was pleased that her son should be an artist. They
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  Speaker 1: pinched and saved so that I should have enough to
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  Speaker 1: live on. And when my first picture was exhibited, they
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  Speaker 1: came to Amsterdam to see it, my father and mother
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  Speaker 1: and my sister, and my mother cried when she looked
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  Speaker 1: at it. His kind eyes glistened. And now on every
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  Speaker 1: wall of the old house there is one of my
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  Speaker 1: pictures in a beautiful gold frame. He glowed with happy pride.
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  Speaker 1: I thought of those cold scenes of his, with their
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  Speaker 1: picturesque peasants and cypresses and olive trees. They must look
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  Speaker 1: queer in their garish frames on the walls of the
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  Speaker 1: peasant house. The dear soul thought she was doing a
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  Speaker 1: wonderful thing for me, and she made me an artist.
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  Speaker 1: But perhaps, after all, it would have been better for
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  Speaker 1: me if my father's will had prevailed and I were
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  Speaker 1: now but an honest carpenter. Now that you know what
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  Speaker 1: art can offer, would you change your life? Would you
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  Speaker 1: have missed all the delight it has given you? Art
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  Speaker 1: is the greatest thing in the world, he answered, After
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  Speaker 1: a pause, he looked at me for a minute reflectively.
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  Speaker 1: He seemed to hesitate. Then he said, did you know
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  Speaker 1: that I had been to see Strickland you? I was astonished.
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  Speaker 1: I should have thought he could not bear to set
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  Speaker 1: eyes on him. Struve smiled faintly. You know already that
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  Speaker 1: I have no proper pride. What do you mean by that?
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  Speaker 1: He told me A singular story, So ends Chapter thirty eight,
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  Speaker 1: Chapter thirty nine. When I left him, after we had
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  Speaker 1: buried poor Blanche, Struve walked into the house with a
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  Speaker 1: heavy heart art. Something impelled him to go to the studio,
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  Speaker 1: some obscure desire for self torture, and yet he dreaded
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  Speaker 1: the anguish that he foresaw. He dragged himself up the stairs,
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  Speaker 1: his feet seemed unwilling to carry him, and outside the
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  Speaker 1: door he lingered for a long time, trying to summon
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  Speaker 1: up courage to go in. He felt horribly sick. He
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  Speaker 1: had an impulse to run down the stairs after me
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  Speaker 1: and beg me to go in with him. He had
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  Speaker 1: a feeling that there was somebody in the studio. He
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  Speaker 1: remembered how often he had waited for a minute or
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  Speaker 1: two on the landing to get his breath after the ascent,
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  Speaker 1: and how absurdly his impatience to see Blanche had taken
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  Speaker 1: it away again. To see her was a delight that
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  Speaker 1: never stailed, and even though he had not been out
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  Speaker 1: an hour, he was as excited at the prospect as
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  Speaker 1: if they had been parted for a month. Suddenly, he
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  Speaker 1: could not believe that she was dead. What had happened
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  Speaker 1: could only be a dream, a frightful dream, And when
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  Speaker 1: he turned the key and opened the door, he would
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  Speaker 1: see her bending slightly over the table, in the gracious
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  Speaker 1: attitude of the woman in Sharden's been deceit, which always
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  Speaker 1: seemed to him so exquisite. Hurriedly, he took the key
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  Speaker 1: out of his pocket, opened and walked in the apartment,
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  Speaker 1: had no look of desertion. His wife's tidiness was one
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  Speaker 1: of the traits which had so much pleased him. His
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  Speaker 1: own upbringing had given him a tender sympathy for the
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  Speaker 1: delight in orderliness, and when he had seen her instinctive
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  Speaker 1: desire to put each thing in its appointed place, it
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  Speaker 1: had given him a little warm feeling in his heart.
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  Speaker 1: The bedroom looked as though she had just left it.
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  Speaker 1: The brushes were neatly placed on the toilet table, one
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  Speaker 1: on each side of the comb. Someone had smoothed down
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  Speaker 1: the bed on which she had spent her last night
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  Speaker 1: in the studio, and her night dress, in a little case,
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  Speaker 1: lay on the pillow. It was impossible to believe that
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  Speaker 1: she would never come into that room again. But he
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  Speaker 1: felt thirsty and went into the kitchen to get himself
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  Speaker 1: some water. Here, too was order on a rack, where
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  Speaker 1: the plates she had used for dinner on the night
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  Speaker 1: of her quarrel with Strickland, and they had been carefully washed.
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  Speaker 1: The knives and forks were put away in a drawer.
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  Speaker 1: Under a cover were the remains of a piece of cheese,
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  Speaker 1: and in a tin box was a crust of bread.
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  Speaker 1: She had done her marketing from day to day, buying
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  Speaker 1: only what was strictly needful, so that nothing was left over.
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  Speaker 1: From one day to the next Stroove knew from the
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  Speaker 1: inquiries made by the police that Strickland had walked out
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  Speaker 1: of the house immediately after dinner, and the fact that
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  Speaker 1: Blanche had washed up the things as usual gave him
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  Speaker 1: a little thrill of horror. Her methodicalness made her suicide
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  Speaker 1: more deliberate. Her self possession was frightening. A sudden pang
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  Speaker 1: seized him, and his knees felt so weak that he
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  Speaker 1: almost fell. He went back into the bedroom and threw
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  Speaker 1: himself on the bed. He cried out her name, Blanche, Blanche.
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  Speaker 1: The thought of her suffering was intolerable. He had a
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  Speaker 1: sudden vision of her standing in the kitchen, it was
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  Speaker 1: hardly larger than a cupboard, washing the plates and glasses,
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  Speaker 1: the forks and spoons, giving the knives a rapid polish
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  Speaker 1: on the knife board, and then putting everything away, giving
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  Speaker 1: the sink a scrub, and hanging the dishcloth up to dry.
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  Speaker 1: It was still there, a gray torn rag. Then, looking
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  Speaker 1: round to see that everything was clean and nice, he
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  Speaker 1: saw her roll down her sleeves and remove her apron,
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  Speaker 1: the apron hung on a peg behind the door, and
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  Speaker 1: take the bottle of oxylic acid and go with it.
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  Speaker 1: Into the bedroom. The agony of it drove him up
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  Speaker 1: from the bed and out of the room. He went
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  Speaker 1: into the studio. It was dark, for the curtains had
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  Speaker 1: been drawn over the great window, and he pulled them
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  Speaker 1: quickly back. But a sob broke from him, as with
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  Speaker 1: a rapid glance he took in the place where he
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  Speaker 1: had been so happy. Nothing was changed here either. Strickland
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  Speaker 1: was indifferent to his surroundings, and he had lived in
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  Speaker 1: the other studio without thinking of altering a thing. It
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  Speaker 1: was deliberately artistic. It represented Struve's idea of the proper
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  Speaker 1: environment for an artist. There were bits of old brocade
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  Speaker 1: on the walls, and the piano was covered with a
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  Speaker 1: piece of silk, beautiful and tarnished. In one corner was
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  Speaker 1: a copy of the Venus of Milo, and in another
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  Speaker 1: of the Venus of the Medici. Here and there was
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  Speaker 1: an Italian cabinet surmounted with delft, And here and there
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  Speaker 1: a base relief in a handsome gold frame was a
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  Speaker 1: copy of Valesquez's Innocent at tenth that Struve had made
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  Speaker 1: in Rome, and placed so as to make the most
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  Speaker 1: of their decorative effect, were a number of Strue's pictures
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  Speaker 1: all in splendid frames. Struve had always been very proud
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  Speaker 1: of his taste. He had never lost his appreciation for
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  Speaker 1: the romantic atmosphere of a studio, and though now the
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  Speaker 1: sight of it was like a stab in his heart.
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  Speaker 1: Without thinking what he was at, he changed slightly the
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  Speaker 1: position of a Louis fifteenth table, which was one of
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  Speaker 1: his treasures. Suddenly he caught sight of a canvas with
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  Speaker 1: its face to the wall. It was a much larger
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  Speaker 1: one than he himself was in the habit of using,
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  Speaker 1: and he wondered what it did there. He went over
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  Speaker 1: to it and leaned it towards him so that he
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  Speaker 1: could see the painting. It was a nude. His heart
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  Speaker 1: began to beat quickly, for he guessed at once that
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  Speaker 1: it was one of Strickland's pictures. He flung it back
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  Speaker 1: against the wall angrily. What did he mean by leaving
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  Speaker 1: it there? But his movement caused it to fall face
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  Speaker 1: downwards on the ground. No matter whose the picture, he
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  Speaker 1: could not leave it there in the dust, and he
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  Speaker 1: raised it. But then curiosity got the better of him.
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  Speaker 1: He thought he would like to have a proper look
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  Speaker 1: at it, so he brought it along and set it
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  Speaker 1: on the easel. Then he stood back in order to
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  Speaker 1: see it at his ease. He gave a gasp. It
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  Speaker 1: was the picture of a woman lying on a sofa,
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  Speaker 1: with one arm beneath her head and the other along
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  Speaker 1: her body. One knee was raised and the other leg
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  Speaker 1: was stretched out. The pose was classic. Struve's head swam.
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  Speaker 1: It was blanche. Grief and jealousy and rage seized him,
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  Speaker 1: and he cried out hoarsely. He was inarticulate. He clenched
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  Speaker 1: his fists and raised them threateningly at an invisible enemy.
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  Speaker 1: He screamed at the top of his voice. He was
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  Speaker 1: beside himself. He could not bear it. That was too much.
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  Speaker 1: He looked round wildly for some instrument. He wanted to
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  Speaker 1: hack the picture to pieces. It should not exist another minute.
• 15:35
  Speaker 1: He could see nothing that would serve his purpose. He
• 15:38
  Speaker 1: rummaged about his painting things. Somehow he could not find
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  Speaker 1: a thing. He was frantic. At last, he came upon
• 15:44
  Speaker 1: what he sought, a large scraper, and he pounced on
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  Speaker 1: it with a cry of triumph. He seized it as
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  Speaker 1: though it were a dagger, and ran to the picture.
• 15:53
  Speaker 1: As Struve told me this, he became as excited as
• 15:56
  Speaker 1: when the incident occurred, and he took hold of a
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  Speaker 1: dinner knife on the table between us and brandished it.
• 16:02
  Speaker 1: He lifted his arm as though to strike, and then,
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  Speaker 1: opening his hand, let it fall with a clatter to
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  Speaker 1: the ground. He looked at me with a tremulous smile.
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  Speaker 1: He did not speak fire away. I said, I don't
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  Speaker 1: know what happened to me. I was just going to
• 16:18
  Speaker 1: make a great hole in the picture. I had my
• 16:20
  Speaker 1: arm all ready for the blow, when suddenly I seemed
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  Speaker 1: to see it. See what the picture? It was a
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  Speaker 1: work of art. I couldn't touch it. I was afraid.
• 16:31
  Speaker 1: Struve was silent again, and he stared at me with
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  Speaker 1: his mouth open and his round blue eyes starting out
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  Speaker 1: of his head. It was a great, a wonderful picture.
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  Speaker 1: I was seized with awe. I had nearly committed a
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  Speaker 1: dreadful crime. I moved a little to see it better,
• 16:47
  Speaker 1: and my foot knocked against the scraper. I shuddered. I
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  Speaker 1: really felt something of the emotion that had caught him.
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  Speaker 1: I was strangely impressed. It was as though I were
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  Speaker 1: suddenly transported into a world in which the values were changed.
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  Speaker 1: I stood by at a loss, like a stranger in
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  Speaker 1: a Land, where the reactions of man to familiar things
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  Speaker 1: are all different from those he has known. Struve tried
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  Speaker 1: to talk to me about the picture, but he was incoherent,
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  Speaker 1: and I had to guess at what he meant. Strickland
• 17:19
  Speaker 1: had burst the bonds that hitherto had held him. He
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  Speaker 1: had found not himself, as the phrase goes, but a
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  Speaker 1: new soul with unsuspected powers. It was not only the
• 17:30
  Speaker 1: bold simplification of the drawing, which showed so rich and
• 17:34
  Speaker 1: so singular a personality. It was not only the painting,
• 17:38
  Speaker 1: though the flesh was painted with a passionate sensuality which
• 17:41
  Speaker 1: had in it something miraculous. It was not only the solidity,
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  Speaker 1: so that you felt extraordinarily the weight of the body.
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  Speaker 1: There was also a spirituality, troubling and new, which led
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  Speaker 1: the imagination along unsuspected ways and suggested dim, empty spaces
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  Speaker 1: lit only by the eternal stars, where the soul, all naked,
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  Speaker 1: had ventured fearful to the discovery of new mysteries. If
• 18:07
  Speaker 1: I am rhetorical, it is because Struve was rhetorical. Do
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  Speaker 1: we not know that man, in moments of emotion expresses
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  Speaker 1: himself naturally? In the terms of a novelette, Strube was
• 18:19
  Speaker 1: trying to express a feeling which he had never known before,
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  Speaker 1: and he did not know how to put it into
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  Speaker 1: common terms. He was like the mystic, trying to describe
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  Speaker 1: the ineffable. But one fact he made clear to me.
• 18:31
  Speaker 1: People talk of beauty lightly and having no feeling for words.
• 18:36
  Speaker 1: They use that one carelessly, so that it loses its force,
• 18:40
  Speaker 1: and the thing it stands for, sharing its name with
• 18:43
  Speaker 1: a hundred trivial objects, is deprived of dignity. They call
• 18:47
  Speaker 1: beautiful a dress, a dog, a sermon, and when they
• 18:50
  Speaker 1: are face to face with beauty, cannot recognize it. The
• 18:54
  Speaker 1: false emphasis with which they try to deck their worthless
• 18:58
  Speaker 1: thoughts blunts their susception abilities. Like the charlatan who counterfeits
• 19:03
  Speaker 1: a spiritual force, he has sometimes felt they lose the
• 19:07
  Speaker 1: power they have abused, but struve. The unconquerable Buffoon had
• 19:12
  Speaker 1: a love and an understanding of beauty which were as
• 19:15
  Speaker 1: honest and sincere as was his own sincere and honest soul.
• 19:20
  Speaker 1: It meant to him what God means to the believer,
• 19:23
  Speaker 1: and when he saw it, he was afraid. What did
• 19:26
  Speaker 1: you say to Strickland when you saw him? I asked
• 19:29
  Speaker 1: him to come with me to Holland. I was dumbfounded.
• 19:34
  Speaker 1: I could only look at Struve in stupid amazement. We
• 19:38
  Speaker 1: both loved Blanche. There would have been room for him
• 19:41
  Speaker 1: in my mother's house. I think the company of poor
• 19:44
  Speaker 1: simple people would have done his soul a great good.
• 19:47
  Speaker 1: I think he might have learnt from them something that
• 19:49
  Speaker 1: would be very useful to him. What did he say?
• 19:54
  Speaker 1: He smiled a little. I suppose he thought me very silly.
• 19:58
  Speaker 1: He said he had other fish to fry. I could
• 20:01
  Speaker 1: have wished that Strickland had used some other phrase to
• 20:04
  Speaker 1: indicate his refusal. He gave me the picture of Blanche.
• 20:09
  Speaker 1: I wondered why Strickland had done that, but I made
• 20:12
  Speaker 1: no remark, and for some time we kept silence. What
• 20:16
  Speaker 1: have you done with all your things? I said? At last,
• 20:20
  Speaker 1: I got a jew in, and he gave me a
• 20:22
  Speaker 1: round sum for the lot. I'm taking my pictures home
• 20:25
  Speaker 1: with me. Beside them, I own nothing in the world
• 20:28
  Speaker 1: now but a box of clothes and a few books.
• 20:32
  Speaker 1: I'm glad you're going home, I said. I felt that
• 20:35
  Speaker 1: his chance was to put all the pass behind him.
• 20:38
  Speaker 1: I hoped that the grief, which now seemed intolerable, would
• 20:41
  Speaker 1: be softened by the lapse of time, and a merciful
• 20:44
  Speaker 1: forgetfulness would help him to take up once more of
• 20:46
  Speaker 1: the burden of life. He was young still, and in
• 20:50
  Speaker 1: a few years he would look back on all his
• 20:52
  Speaker 1: misery with a sadness in which there would be something
• 20:55
  Speaker 1: not unpleasurable. Sooner or later he would marry some honest
• 20:59
  Speaker 1: soul in Holland, and I felt sure he would be happy.
• 21:03
  Speaker 1: I smiled at the thought of the vast number of
• 21:05
  Speaker 1: bad pictures he would paint before he died. Next day
• 21:09
  Speaker 1: I saw him off for Amsterdam. So ends Chapter thirty nine.