anxious, and savouring little, it seemed. Salter recognized the condition as his own and reflected that it was probably widespread, normal, and boring. What was more interesting was the upward movement of the journal, marked by the disappearance of introspection, and Salter read more closely to see how Summers had come out of it. The appearance of his new hobby, squash, was the first sign that Summers had gone beyond his fascination with his own melancholy to doing something about it. After about two months, Summers began to mention his games regularly, especially those with Cranmer and Bailey. Soon Cranmer faded, but the games with Bailey were regularly recorded, together with comments. Once Summers wrote: ‘Exhausted. Played Bailey today—beat him—he wanted to play again—beat him again. Almost felt sorry for him, and offered to buy the beer. He got very snotty about it. Said I would be buying the beer soon enough. Ho. Ho. I look forward to it all day. We are dead even, but I am feeling up this week. Sometimes I feel a bit embarrassed about this new obsession, but there’s a distinguished professor over at the U. of T. who doesn’t give a shit for anything except his horse.’ A later entry read: ‘Lost to Bailey today. My eye still black from last week. I think he’s been taking lessons, too.’ During a squash tournament, apparently among the ‘D’ players at the club, the journal stopped for ten days, and Salter reflected that this kind of journal was probably only kept up when the writer felt sad.
Sometimes Summers reprimanded himself for not keeping it conscientiously. The first entry of this kind occurred about a third of the way through, and was the result of Summers himself having read the first six months of his journal and having found it fascinating. Food appeared occasionally as Summers described the meals he had eaten in restaurants, along with the prices. Here, too, he was beginning to see the interest such information might have for him in the future. Sometimes he recorded the movies and plays he had seen and included a considered, literary reaction. More to Salter’s taste was: ‘Saw a lot of frauds farting around the stage of the St Lawrence Centre last night’, and ‘Fell asleep during concert yesterday. Drooled a bit, but no one noticed.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
