aneb Huxley o výchově… Jedna zajímavá pasáž z knihy, která je pro mne dost zásadní. Zajímavé je, že tyhle pasáže o výchově jsem při poslední četbě nevnímala tak silně… (omlouvám se za angličtinu, nenašla jsem v čj a krom toho, originál je vždycky lepší…)
Remember what happened when you were a little boy,“ Mary Sarojini was saying. „What did your mother do when you hurt yourself?“ She had taken him in her arms, had said, „My poor baby, my poor little baby.“ „She did that?“ The child spoke in a tone of shocked amazement. „But that’s awful! That’s the way to rub it in. ‚My poor baby,‘ “ she repeated derisively, „it must have gone on hurting for hours. And you’d never forget it.“ Will Farnaby made no comment, but lay there in silence, shaken by irrepressible shudderings.
„Well, if you won’t do it yourself, I’ll have to do it for you. Listen, Will: there was a snake, a big green snake, and you almost stepped on him. You almost stepped on him, and it gave you such a fright that you lost your balance, you fell. Now say it yourself—say it!“ „I almost stepped on him,“ he whispered obediently. „And then I …“ He
couldn’t say it. „Then I fell,“ he brought out at last, almost inaudibly. All the horror of it came back to him—the nausea of fear, the panic start that had made him lose his balance, and then worse fear and the ghastly certainty that it was the end. „Say it again.“ „I almost stepped on him. And then …“
He heard himself whimpering.
„That’s right, Will. Cry—cry!“
The whimpering became a moaning. Ashamed, he clenched his teeth, and the moaning stopped. „No, don’t do that,“ she cried. „Let it come out if it wants to. Remember
that snake, Will. Remember how you fell.“ The moaning broke out again and he began to shudder more violently than ever.
„Now tell me what happened.“
„I could see its eyes, I could see its tongue going in and out.“
„Yes, you could see his tongue. And what happened then?“
„I lost my balance, I fell.“
„Say it again, Will.“ He was sobbing now. „Say it again,“ she insisted.
It was tearing him to pieces, but he said it. „I fell.“
„Again, Will.“ She was implacable. „Again.“
„I fell, I fell. I fell . . .“
Gradually the sobbing died down. The words came more easily and the memories they aroused were less painful.
„I fell,“ he repeated for the hundredth time.
„But you didn’t fall very far,“ Mary Sarojini now said.
No, I didn’t fall very far,“ he agreed.
„So what’s all the fuss about?“ the child inquired. There was no malice or irony in her tone, not the slightest implication of blame. She was just asking a simple, straightforward question that called for a simple, straightforward answer. Yes, what was all the fuss about? The snake hadn’t bitten him; he hadn’t broken his neck. And anyhow it had all happened yesterday. Today there were these butterflies, this bird that called one to attention, this strange child who talked to one like a Dutch uncle, looked like an angel out of some unfamiliar mythology and within five degrees of the equator was called, believe it or not, MacPhail. Will Farnaby laughed aloud.
The little girl clapped her hands and laughed too.