Analytical reading-Part 27

Thomas Wolfe

From The Story of a Novel

B

ut now another face began to gnaw a way into my consciousness. The critics had begun to ask questions about the second book, and so now I had to think about the second one as well. I had always wanted to think about the second one and the thirty-second one and the fifty-second one. I had been sure that I had a hundred books in me, that all of them would be good, that each of them would make me famous. But here again was a strange and jolting transition from wild hope and exultant conviction; and plain, blazing fact remained. Now that I had actually written one book and they, the actual readers and critics who had read it, were looking for a second, I was up against it. I was not up against it the way I dreaded, I was just up against it cold and hard as one comes up against a wall. I was a writer. I had made the writer’s life my life; there was no going back; I had to go on. What could I do? After the first book there had to be a second book. What was the second book to be about? Where would it come from?

                This inexorable fact, although it became more and more pressing, did not bother me so much at first. Rather I was concerned with many other things that I had to do with the publication of that first book, and as before, I had foreseen none of them. In the first place, I had not foreseen one fact which becomes absolutely plain after a man has written a book, but which he cannot foresee until he has written one. This fact is that one writes a book not in order to remember it, but in order to forget it, and now this fact was evident. As soon as the book was in print, I began to forget about it, I didn’t want people to talk to me or question me about it. I just wanted them to leave me alone and shut up about it. And yet I longed desperately for my book’s success. I wanted it to have the position of proud esteem and honour in the world that I longed for it to have—I wanted, in short, to be a successful and a famous man, and I wanted to lead the same kind of obscure and private life I’d always had and not to be told about my fame and success.

Notes and comments:

gnawing reminiscences-терзаещи спомени

tormenting memories-измъчващи спомени

pricks of conscience-угризения на съвестта

tortures of remorse-угризения на съвестта

qualms of conscience-угризения на съвестта

agonies of guilt-силно чувство за вина

repentant spirit-дух на разкаяние

humility of contrition-разкаяние, изпълнено с покорство

Mark the mute initial “g” in the words:

to gnash one’s teeth-скърцам зъби

Rodents gnaw with sharp teeth.

to fight one’s way through-to hack one’s path through the battle = пробивам си път със сабя

to be up against something-нещо “ми се пише”

to be up against it—в затруднение съм, (ирон.) наредил съм се

to be up against the wall-притиснат съм до стената

to come up against a wall-изправен съм на разстрел

an inexorable fact/truth/reality-неумолима действителност

a pressing demand-остра нужда

an urgent necessity-належащо изискване

a vital need-жизнена необходимост

to tell somebody some plain truths-казвам някому неприятни истини/”право куме в очи”

a plain/blazing fact-glaring evidence-явен/крещящ факт; очевидно доказателство

to leave somebody alone-оставям някого на мира

to leave somebody by himself-оставям някого самичък

to do something on one’s own/by oneself-върша нещо самостоятелно

to have a dread of something-изпитвам боязън от нещо

dreadful = awful = terrible = horrible = horrid = terrific

to foretell-предвещавам

to forewarn-предупреждавам

to foresee-предвиждам

to forestall-предотвратявам

exultant conviction-екзалтирано убеждение

jolting transition-рязък преход

to despair about/of-отчайвам се относно, губя надежда за

to be despondent over-паднал духом/унил/обезверен относно

to be a desperate man-способен съм на отчаяни постъпки

a desperado-отчаян тип, разбойник, смелчага