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152 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1953
Ergo one would drown the other in a spoon of water, but in the continuous sequence of Trials, summonses, quarrels, in that ceaseless Gnawing communion, so one with the other as bigos, as Hodgepodge mixed, stewed, that perchance one cannot live without the other and in this mouldy Cheese, in this inveterate Boot of theirs, as Toes bent, Hideous, and with themselves only! Ergo they are with themselves! Ergo they are amongst themselves! And they have forgotten God’s world, with themselves only, amongst themselves, self-selved; and from the old days so many Relicks have piled up, so many reminiscences, rancours, divers words, corks, old Flagons, Double-Barrels, tins, divers rags, bones, brads, saucepans, scraps of tin, ringlets, so that no stranger who approached them could sense what they to him will say or do ’cause a Cork or a Flagon or a word heedlessly thrown out at once reminds them of something Older and Baked In, and moves them as a weathercock on a Church tower.
Yet over there, over the water, bullets whirr. ’Tis so. If not for all that beyond the Forest, the Waters, I would not this Anxiousness have, but indeed with the sign of that Carnage, bloodsome, not only to me but to everyone ’tis Burdensome, bothersome, and everyone wonders whether something of that will not fall on his head and how not to go too far.
So ’tis. Instead of sitting hush-hush at so dangerous a time of ours, we here this Duel arrange and so whilst there Bullets, here likewise a Bullet (albeit without a bullet). Oh Jesus Maria! Oh dear, dear! And wherefore this? And what for this? And how this? And why this? And what End will this have?