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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
112
R----
said
to
me
this
morning,
"Well,
have
you
heard?"
with
an
exuberance
of
curiosity
that
made
my
blood
boil--he
was
referring
to
my
Essay
still
at
the
bar
of
the
opinion
of
the
Editor
of
the
English
Review.
"You
beast,"
I
snapped
and
walked
off.
R----
shouted
with
laughter
for
he
realizes
my
anger
with
him
is
only
semi-serious:
it
is
meant
and
not
meant:
meant,
for
it
is
justified
by
the
facts;
not
meant,
for
I
can't
be
too
serious
over
anything
au
fond.
Of
all
the
grim
and
ridiculous
odds
and
ends
of
chance
that
Fortune
has
rolled
up
to
my
feet,
my
friendship
with
a
man
like
B----
is
the
grimmest
and
most
ridiculous.
He
is
a
bachelor
of
sixty,
rather
good-looking,
of
powerful
physique
and
a
faultless
constitution....
His
ignorance
is
colossal
and
he
once
asked
whether
Australia,
for
example,
tho'
surrounded
by
water,
is
not
connected
up
with
other
land
underneath
the
sea.
Being
himself
a
child
in
intelligence
(tho'
commercially
cunning),
he
has
a
great
respect
for
my
brains.
Being
himself
a
strong
man,
he
views
my
ill-health
with
much
contempt.
His
private
opinion
is
that
I
am
in
consumption.
When
asked
once
by
a
lady
if
I
were
not
going
to
be
"a
great
man"
one
day,
he
replied,
"Yes--if
he
lives."
I
ought
to
walk
six
miles
a
day,
drink
a
bottle
of
stout
with
my
dinner,
and
eat
plenty
of
onions.
His
belief
in
the
curative
properties
of
onions
is
strong
as
death....
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