The Journal of a Disappointed Man

November 11. Returned home and found a letter awaiting me from Dr. A---- offering me £60 a year for a temporary job as assistant at the Plymouth Marine Laboratory. Left London horribly depressed. They evidently intend to shuffle me off. Read Geo. Gissing's novel, Born in Exile. Godwin Peak, with his intense pride of individuality, self-torturing capacities, and sentimental languishment, reminds me of myself. November 20. A purulent cold in the nose. My heart is weak. Palpitation after the least exertion. But I shall soon be swinging my cudgels in the battle of life, so it won't do to be hypochondriacal.... Let all the powers of the world and the Devil attack me, yet I will win in the end--though the conquest may very well be one which no one but myself will view. Have accepted the Plymouth appointment. November 30. Struggling in the depths again within the past few days with heart attacks. Am slowly getting better of them and trying to forget as soon as may be visions of sudden death, coffins, and obituary notices. December 2. Death At first, when we are very young, Death arouses our curiosity, as it did Cain in the beginning.[2] It is a strange and very rare phenomenon which we cannot comprehend, and every time we hear of some one's death, we try to recall that person's appearance in life and are disappointed if we can't. The endeavour is to discover what it is, this Death, to compare two things, the idea of the person alive and the idea of him dead. At last some one we know well dies--and that is the first shock.... I shall never forget when our Matron died at the D---- School.... As the years roll on, we get used to the man with the scythe and an acquaintance's death is only a bit of gossip.