Chapter 40 Hate myself for choosing a career as an architect

the third part Hate myself for choosing a career as an architect "Well, you know, Guy Franken's just a name. He's got nothing to do with your house, I'm afraid. It's a trade secret I shouldn't have revealed, but I don't know why, anyway. You make me feel like I have to be honest with you. Some of the best buildings in our design institute were designed by Mr. Stengel." "Who?" "Mr. Claude Stengale. You've never heard the name, but you will someday, if someone has the courage to discover him. He did all the designs, you know, He is the real behind-the-scenes genius, but the person who finally signed and stamped it was Franken, and the fame and reputation belonged to Franken. How is it not like this now."

"But why does Mr. Stengel hold his breath?" "What can he do? No one gave him a chance to start over. You know, most people only look for a dead reason, and they would rather pay three times the price for the same one. Commodity, only recognize its trademark. It's courage, Mrs. Dunlop, they just lack courage. Mr. Stengel is a great artist, but there are too few Bole after all, people don't see it. He is going to do it himself. If only he could find someone as distinguished as Mrs Stuyvesant to give him a chance." "Really?" said Mrs. Dunlop. "How interesting is that? Tell me more about that."

He talked a lot more.When they had finished reading Frederick Mawson, Mrs. Dunlop shook Keating's hand and said to him: "You have such a good heart. You are really rare in the world. Are you sure that if you arrange for me to meet Mr. Stengel, you will not embarrass you in the design institute? I dare not bring it up, you are so understanding , You are not angry with me. You are too selfless, no one in your position can be as selfless as you. " When Keating proposed to Stengel for lunch, the man listened in silence.Then he turned his head abruptly and asked sharply: "What are you doing?"

Before Keating could answer, Stengel suddenly turned his head around and said: "Oh, oh, I see." He curled his lips, showing obvious disdain. "Okay, I'll eat this lunch." When Stengel left Franken-Heyer Design Institute to start another business and took over his first business-Mrs. Furious at Keating at the desk: "The bastard! The vile bastard! I fell for him!" "What do you expect from him?" said Keating, sprawled out in a low arm-chair in front of him. "There's something wrong with people." "But what I can't figure out is how did that despicable weasel get the news? The fat sheep that arrived was snatched by him."

"Oh, I never trusted him." Keating shrugged, "This is human nature..." The distress revealed in his voice is understandable.Stengel didn't even say thank you, leaving him with just this: "You're a worse bastard than I thought. Good luck! You'll be a great architect someday .” In this way, Gideon climbed up to the position of chief designer of Franken-Haye Design Institute. Franken celebrated his promotion with a small banquet in a luxurious but relatively secluded hotel.He said over and over again: "In a year or two, Peter... In a year or two, you'll see how things go. You're a good boy, I'll do things for you... Haven't I already done it for you What? . . . You've seen a lot, Peter . . . in a few years . . . "

"Guy, your tie is bent," said Keating coldly. "Look at you spilling brandy all over your vest..." Facing his first design task, Keating thought of Tim Davis, thought of Stengel, and thought of many other people who wanted to get this design task and worked hard for it, but were defeated by him people.It was a feeling of bliss after success.His greatness is already an indisputable fact.Then, suddenly, he found himself sitting in a glass-enclosed office, looking down at a blank blueprint—he was alone.Something went down his throat and into his belly, cold and hollow, a sinking hollow he'd always known.He leaned against the design table and closed his eyes.That's what he's going to do.This has never been true before – to fill out a drawing, to make some kind of design on the drawing.

It was just a small mansion.But he didn't see it standing up in front of his eyes, on the contrary, he saw it falling.He saw it shaped like a trap in the ground, like a trap in his mind, like a hollow in which only Davis and Stengel cursed in vain.Here's what Franken told him about the building: "It has to be respectable, you know, respectable...without the slightest eccentricity...elegant in appearance...and under budget." Franken imparted to him the ideas of the so-called designer, and asked him to express these ideas.In a moment of cold dazed numbness, he seemed to see the client laughing at him to his face.He seemed to hear Tohey's unpleasant, supremely authoritative voice reminding him to seize the opportunity that was open to him as a plumber.He loathes every stone on the face of the earth.He hated himself for choosing a career as an architect.

When he began to draw the drawings, he tried not to think about what he was doing, but thought of Franken who had designed, and Stengel, and even Heyer, and all the others, and he thought, if they could If he can do it, so can he.