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| Photo courtesy of Craig Sargent |
[C]onsider
the effect of sex--how between man and woman it hangs wavy, tremulous, so that here's
a valley, there's a peak, when in truth, perhaps, all's as flat as my hand. Even the
exact words get the wrong accent
on them. But something is always impelling one to hum vibrating, like the hawk moth, at
the mouth of the cavern of mystery, endowing Jacob Flanders with all sorts of qualities
he had not at all—for
though,
certainly, he sat talking to Bonamy, half of what he said was too dull to repeat; much unintelligible
(about unknown people and
Parliament);
what remains is mostly a matter of guess work. Yet over him we hang vibrating.
Jacob’s Room ( 74)
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