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349
The Journal of a Disappointed Man
·
W. N. P. Barbellion
70
July
14.
A
"Brilliant
Career"
My
old
head
master
once
prophesied
for
me
"a
brilliant
career."
That
was
when
I
was
in
the
Third
Form.
Now
I
have
more
than
a
suspicion
that
I
am
one
of
those
who,
as
he
once
pointed
out,
grow
sometimes
out
of
a
brilliant
boyhood
into
very
commonplace
men.
This
continuous
ill
health
is
having
a
very
obvious
effect
on
my
work
and
activities.
With
what
courage
I
possess
I
have
to
face
the
fact
that
to-day
I
am
unable
to
think
or
express
myself
as
well
as
when
I
was
a
boy
in
my
teens--witness
this
Journal!
I
intend
to
go
on
however.
I
have
decided
that
my
death
shall
be
disputed
all
the
way.
Oh!
it
is
so
humiliating
to
die!
I
writhe
to
think
of
being
overcome
by
so
unfair
an
enemy
before
I
have
demonstrated
myself
to
maiden
aunts
who
mistrust
me,
to
colleagues
who
scorn
me,
and
even
to
brothers
and
sisters
who
believe
in
me.
As
an
Egotist
I
hate
death
because
I
should
cease
to
be
I.
Most
folk,
when
sick
unto
death,
gain
a
little
consolation
over
the
notoriety
gained
by
the
fact
of
their
decease.
Criminals
enjoy
the
pomp
and
circumstance
of
their
execution.
Voltaire
said
of
Rousseau
that
he
wouldn't
mind
being
hanged
if
they'd
stick
his
name
on
the
gibbet.
But
my
own
death
would
be
so
mean
and
insignificant.
Guy
de
Maupassant
died
in
a
grand
manner--a
man
of
intellect
and
splendid
physique
who
became
insane.
Tusitala's
death
in
the
South
Seas
reads
like
a
romance.
Heine,
after
a
life
of
sorrow,
died
with
a
sparkling
witticism
on
his
lips;
Vespasian
with
a
jest.
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