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- Джон Фоулз
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- Коллекционер
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I
could
scream
abuse
at
him
all
day
long
;
he
wouldn
’
t
mind
at
all
.
It
’
s
me
he
wants
,
my
look
,
my
outside
;
not
my
emotions
or
my
mind
or
my
soul
or
even
my
body
.
Not
anything
human
.
He
’
s
a
collector
.
That
’
s
the
great
dead
thing
in
him
.
What
irritates
me
most
about
him
is
his
way
of
speaking
.
Cliche
after
cliche
after
cliche
,
and
all
so
old
-
fashioned
,
as
if
he
’
s
spent
all
his
life
with
people
over
fifty
.
At
lunch
-
time
today
he
said
,
I
called
in
with
regard
to
those
records
they
’
ve
placed
on
order
.
I
said
,
Why
don
’
t
you
just
say
,
"
I
asked
about
those
records
you
ordered
?
"
He
said
,
I
know
my
English
isn
’
t
correct
,
but
I
try
to
make
it
correct
.
I
didn
’
t
argue
.
That
sums
him
up
.
He
’
s
got
to
be
correct
,
he
’
s
got
to
do
whatever
was
"
right
"
and
"
nice
"
before
either
of
us
was
born
.
I
know
it
’
s
pathetic
,
I
know
he
’
s
a
victim
of
a
miserable
Nonconformist
suburban
world
and
a
miserable
social
class
,
the
horrid
timid
copycatting
genteel
in
-
between
class
.
I
used
to
think
D
and
M
’
s
class
the
worst
.
All
golf
and
gin
and
bridge
and
cars
and
the
right
accent
and
the
right
money
and
having
been
to
the
right
school
and
hating
the
arts
(
the
theatre
being
a
pantomime
at
Christmas
and
Hay
Fever
by
the
Town
Rep
—
Picasso
and
Bartok
dirty
words
unless
you
wanted
to
get
a
laugh
)
.
Well
,
that
is
foul
.
But
Caliban
’
s
England
is
fouler
.
It
makes
me
sick
,
the
blindness
,
deadness
,
out
-
of
-
dateness
,
stodginess
and
,
yes
,
sheer
jealous
malice
of
the
great
bulk
of
England
.
G
.
P
.
talks
about
the
Paris
rat
.
Not
being
able
to
face
England
any
more
.
I
can
understand
that
so
well
.
The
feeling
that
England
stifles
and
smothers
and
crushes
like
a
steamroller
over
everything
fresh
and
green
and
original
.
And
that
’
s
what
causes
tragic
failures
like
Matthew
Smith
and
Augustus
John
—
they
’
ve
done
the
Paris
rat
and
they
live
ever
after
in
the
shadow
of
Gauguin
and
Matisse
or
whoever
it
may
be
—
just
as
G
.
P
.
says
he
once
lived
under
the
shadow
of
Braque
and
suddenly
woke
up
one
morning
to
realize
that
all
he
had
done
for
five
years
was
a
lie
,
because
it
was
based
on
Braque
’
s
eyes
and
sensibilities
and
not
his
own
.
Photography
.
It
’
s
all
because
there
’
s
so
little
hope
in
England
that
you
have
to
turn
to
Paris
,
or
somewhere
abroad
.
But
you
have
to
force
yourself
to
accept
the
truth
—
that
Paris
is
always
an
escape
downwards
(
G
.
P
.
’
s
words
)
—
not
saying
anything
against
Paris
,
but
you
have
to
face
up
to
England
and
the
apathy
of
the
environment
(
these
are
all
G
.
P
.
’
s
words
and
ideas
)
and
the
great
deadweight
of
the
Calibanity
of
England
.
