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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
40
Suppose
the
Hellfire
of
the
orthodox
really
existed!
We
have
no
assurance
that
it
does
not!
It
seems
incredible,
but
many
incredible
things
are
true.
We
do
not
know
that
God
is
not
as
cruel
as
a
Spanish
inquisitor.
Suppose,
then,
He
is!
If,
after
Death,
we
wicked
ones
were
shovelled
into
a
furnace
of
fire--we
should
have
to
burn.
There
would
be
no
redress.
It
would
simply
be
the
Divine
Order
of
things.
It
is
outrageous
that
we
should
be
so
helpless
and
so
dependent
on
any
one--even
God.
December
9.
Sometimes
I
think
I
am
going
mad.
I
live
for
days
in
the
mystery
and
tears
of
things
so
that
the
commonest
object,
the
most
familiar
face--even
my
own--become
ghostly,
unreal,
enigmatic.
I
get
into
an
attitude
of
almost
total
scepticism,
nescience,
solipsism
even,
in
a
world
of
dumb,
sphinx-like
things
that
cannot
explain
themselves.
The
discovery
of
how
I
am
situated--a
sentient
being
on
a
globe
in
space
overshadows
me.
I
wish
I
were
just
nothing.
Later:
While
at
a
public
meeting,
the
office-boy
approached
me
and
immediately
whispered
without
hesitation,--
"Just
had
a
telephone
message
to
say
that
your
father
is
at
the
T----Railway
Station,
lying
senseless.
He
has
evidently
had
an
apoplectic
fit."
(How
those
brutal
words,
"lying
senseless,"
banged
and
bullied
and
knocked
me
down.
Mother
was
waiting
for
me
at
the
door
in
a
dreadful
state
and
expecting
the
worst.)
Met
the
train
with
the
Doctor,
and
took
him
home
in
the
cab--still
alive,
thank
God,
but
helpless.
He
was
brave
enough
to
smile
and
shake
me
by
the
hand--with
his
left,
though
he
was
speechless
and
the
right
side
of
his
body
helpless.
A
porter
discovered
him
at
the
railway
terminus
lying
on
the
floor
of
a
second-class
carriage.
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