酷兔英语
    当前位置:
  1. 首页
  2. 文章
  3. 娱乐英语
  4. 原版小说
  5. 正文

The Jacket (The Star-Rover)-Part7_JACK LONDON(1876-1916)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

0 收藏 0 分享 0 赞

章节正文
文章总共2页
and the agonies of hell-fire.

Now, the foregoing were the glimpses and glimmerings that came to



me, when, in Cell One of Solitary in San Quentin, I stared myself

unconscious by means of a particle of bright, light-radiating straw.



How did these things come to me? Surely I could not have

manufactured them out of nothing inside my pent walls any more than



could I have manufactured out of nothing the thirty-five pounds of

dynamite so ruthlessly demanded of me by Captain Jamie, Warden



Atherton, and the Prison Board of Directors.

I am Darrell Standing, born and raised on a quarter section of land



in Minnesota, erstwhile professor of agronomy, a prisoner

incorrigible in San Quentin, and at present a death-sentenced man in



Folsom. I do not know, of Darrell Standing's experience, these

things of which I write and which I have dug from out my store-



houses of subconsciousness" target="_blank" title="n.意识；觉悟；知觉">consciousness. I, Darrell Standing, born in Minnesota

and soon to die by the rope in California, surely never loved



daughters of kings in the courts of kings; nor fought cutlass to

cutlass on the swaying decks of ships; nor drowned in the spirit-



rooms of ships, guzzling raw liquor to the wassail-shouting and

death-singing of seamen, while the ship lifted and crashed on the



black-toothed rocks and the water bubbled overhead, beneath, and all

about.



Such things are not of Darrell Standing's experience in the world.

Yet I, Darrell Standing, found these things within myself in



solitary in San Quentin by means of mechanical self-hypnosis. No

more were these experiences Darrell Standing's than was the word



"Samaria" Darrell Standing's when it leapt to his child lips at

sight of a photograph.



One cannot make anything out of nothing. In solitary I could not so

make thirty-five pounds of dynamite. Nor in solitary, out of



nothing in Darrell Standing's experience, could I make these wide,

far visions of time and space. These things were in the content of



my mind, and in my mind I was just beginning to learn my way about.

CHAPTER VII



So here was my predicament: I knew that within myself was a

Golconda of memories of other lives, yet I was unable to do more



than flit like a madman through those memories. I had my Golconda

but could not mine it.



I remembered the case of Stainton Moses, the clergyman who had been

possessed by the personalities of St. Hippolytus, Plotinus,



Athenodorus, and of that friend of Erasmus named Grocyn. And when I

considered the experiments of Colonel de Rochas, which I had read in



tyro fashion in other and busier days, I was convinced that Stainton

Moses had, in previous lives, been those personalities that on



occasion seemed to possess him. In truth, they were he, they were

the links of the chain of recurrence.



But more especially did I dwell upon the experiments of Colonel de

Rochas. By means of suitable hypnotic subjects he claimed that he



had penetrated backwards through time to the ancestors of his

subjects. Thus, the case of Josephine which he describes. She was



eighteen years old and she lived at Voiron, in the department of the

Isere. Under hypnotism Colonel de Rochas sent her adventuring back



through her adolescence, her girlhood, her childhood, breast-

infancy, and the silent dark of her mother's womb, and, still back,



through the silence and the dark of the time when she, Josephine,

was not yet born, to the light and life of a previous living, when



she had been a churlish, suspicious, and embittered old man, by name

Jean-Claude Bourdon, who had served his time in the Seventh



Artillery at Besancon, and who died at the age of seventy, long

bedridden. YES, and did not Colonel de Rochas in turn hypnotize



this shade of Jean-Claude Bourdon, so that he adventured farther

back into time, through infancy and birth and the dark of the



unborn, until he found again light and life when, as a wicked old

woman, he had been Philomene Carteron?



But try as I would with my bright bit of straw in the oozement of

light into solitary, I failed to achieve any such definiteness of



previouspersonality. I became convinced, through the failure of my

experiments, that only through death could I clearly and coherently



resurrect the memories of my previous selves.

But the tides of life ran strong in me. I, Darrell Standing, was so



strongly disinclined to die that I refused to let Warden Atherton

and Captain Jamie kill me. I was always so innately urged to live






文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文
Copyright © 2023 Qeto All rights reserved.
商务合作 | 联系我们 | 关于我们 | 版权声明 | 隐私条款 | 如果智培

京ICP备05059198号-1 京公网安备 11011202003401号