Chapter 11 chapter Ten

Cam passed by the easel, and she would not stop for Mr. Banks and Lily Briscoe. Obviously Mr. Banks wished he had such a daughter, and stretched out his hand to grab her; She wouldn't even stop for her father, she brushed past him; her mother yelled, "Cam! I want you to stop for a moment!" as she rushed by, but that didn't stop her either. .She went straight forward, like a bird, a pellet, a flying arrow. What desire drove her, what force drove her, what goal attracted her?Can anyone explain why?Why exactly, why?Mrs. Ramsay looked at her daughter, thinking to herself.Perhaps a phantom--a seashell, a cart, a vision of a mythical kingdom beyond the hedge--was drawing her; or simply a glorious pride in being fast;But when Mrs. Ramsay called a second time, "Cam!" the rocket went down, and Cam stopped, walked slowly back, grabbed a leaf on the way, and came to his mother. .

Mrs. Ramsay did not know what her daughter was dreaming of, but she saw her standing there so preoccupied with her own affairs that she had to repeat the words—ask Madeleine: Andrew Are Miss Doyle and Mr. Rayleigh back?These words were like stones thrown into a well, and they twisted and twisted so strangely that, if the well water were clear, one could even see them sinking in twists and turns, leaving a God-knows-what pattern in the heart of the child.Mrs. Ramsay wondered: what message would Cam send to the cook?In fact, it was only after patiently waiting, listening to a rosy-cheeked old woman in the kitchen drinking from a plate of soup, that Mrs. Ramsay at last got her daughter to parrot her words, He listened to the words and waited for her to repeat them in a dry, singing voice.Cam put his weight on his left foot, now on his right foot, and repeated the cook's reply: "No, they haven't come back yet. I have asked Ellen to take down the tea cups and pans. "

Well, Mintae Doyle and Paul Rayleigh aren't back yet.Mrs. Ramsay believed that this could only mean one thing: either she had accepted his proposal, or she had rejected him.Going out for a walk after lunch until now—although Andrew was with them—what could it mean?Unless she's made the right choice, thought Mrs Ramsay (she was very, very fond of Mintay), accepted the good boy's request, he may not have talent, however, Mrs Ramsay thought (she found James tugging at her skirt, urging her to tell the story of the fisherman and his wife), she would rather choose a clumsy lad than a genius who wrote a dissertation, for example, Charles Tasley.Now, she must have made some kind of choice: accept it, or refuse it.

She read: "The next day, the fisherman's wife woke up first. It was just dawn, and she saw a beautiful rural scenery in front of her on the bed. Her husband was still stretching..." But how could Min-tae say now that she would not accept his marriage proposal if she had agreed to spend the afternoon roaming the countryside alone with him? —because Andrew might have left them to go crabbing—but maybe Nancy was with them.She tried to recall how they stood at the gate after lunch.They stood there, looking up at the sky, wondering what the weather would be like in the afternoon.Partly to hide their shyness, partly to encourage them to go out, for she sympathized with Paul, she said:

"Not a cloud for miles." At that moment she heard Charles Tansley chuckling to himself as he came out behind them.But she said that on purpose.She saw the other in her mind's eye, and she couldn't be sure if Nancy was there. She went on reading: "Oh, old woman," said the fisherman, "why do we want to be kings? I don't want to be kings." "Well," said the fisherman's wife, "if you don't want to be kings, I will. Go find that flounder, for I'm going to be king." "In or out, Cam," said Mrs. Ramsay.She knew Cam was drawn to the word "flounder," but before long she would fidget as usual and annoy James into a fight.Cam ran away quickly.Mrs. Ramsay went on reading, relieved that she and James were like-minded, and they had a pleasant and pleasant company.

"When the fisherman came to the sea, the sky was dark and gray, and the sea roared and boiled, and gave off a stench of decay. He went to the sea and stood still, and said: "'Fish fish, in the sea, "'Come here, I beg you; "'My wife Isabel, "'Don't wish for me.'" "'Well, what does she want then?' asked the fish." Where are Minta and the others now?Mrs Ramsay thought as she read.These two things are easy to go on at the same time; for the story of the fisherman and his wife is like the bass part to a tune which is softly accompanied, and which often breaks into the melody unexpectedly.When should I tell her?If nothing happens, she's going to have a serious talk with Min Tae.She couldn't go wandering about the country like this, not even with Nancy for their company. (Again she tried to recall their backs as they left along that road, to count how many of them were walking together, but she couldn't remember.) She had to tell Mintae's parents—the owl and the Poker - Take charge.As she read aloud, the nicknames she had given them popped into her head.Owls and pokers - yes, if they had heard - and they would have heard - Minta had been seen so and so at the Ramsays, blah, blah - They will be angry. "He made his way to the House of Commons, and she ably helped him climb to the upper echelons of society," she repeated to cheer her husband on her way home from a party, making Min-tae's parents happy. The image of her now resurfaced in her memory.Ouch, my God, Mrs Ramsay said to herself, how could they have such an unworthy daughter?How could they have such a boyish wild girl Mintae?There's a big hole in the sock she's wearing!Her housemaid was constantly clearing the sand left by the parrot with a dustpan, and the conversation in her house was almost always limited to the feats of the bird—amusing, perhaps, but narrow. topic.How could she survive in that extraordinary environment?Naturally, you had to have her for lunch, tea, supper, and finally for a few days, and she had a little trouble with her mother, the owl.More visits and talks followed, more sand, and by the end, she had actually told as many lies about the parrot as she could live her life. (That's what she told her husband when she came home from the party that night.) Anyway, here comes Min Tai. . . . Yes, she is visiting at their house, thought Mrs Ramsay.She suspected that there seemed to be some thorny thorn hidden in these complicated thoughts; she unraveled the tangled thoughts and found that it was this: a woman once accused her of "taking her daughter's love for her"; a remark made by Mrs. Doyle reminded her of that accusation.To like to dominate, to interfere, to have others do what she wanted—that was a reproach against her, and she felt that it was the most unjust reproach.She looked "like that," so what could she do?No one could accuse her of trying to impress.She is often ashamed of her own poverty.She is not domineering or bossy.It would be more accurate to say that her concerns were hospitals, sewers, and ranches.She was indeed sensitive about such matters.If she had the chance, she would grab people by the neck and force their attention on these issues.It is a shame that there is not a single hospital on the whole island.In London, milk arrives at your door brown and tainted with dust.It should be outlawed, and a model ranch and a hospital should be built here—both things she wished she could do herself.But how?Can a procrastinator like her do it?When the kids are older, when they're all in school, maybe she'll have time.

Oh, but she would never want James to grow up a bit!Nor does he want Cam to grow up.These two children were the apple of her eye, and she hoped that they would always be what they were, always mischievous devils, happy angels, never to see them develop into monstrous monsters with long legs.Nothing can make up for this loss.She had just read to James "There were many soldiers with drums and bugles," and his eyes darkened, and she thought, why should they grow up and lose all this?He was the most gifted and sensitive of all her children.But, she thought, all children had a bright future.Prue, compared to the other children, was a perfect little angel, and there were times now, especially at night, when she was simply astonishingly beautiful.Andrew - even her husband admits he has a remarkable mathematical genius.Nancy and Roger, they are both wild children now, wandering the country all day.As for Ruth, her mouth was a little too big, but her hands were wonderfully gifted.If the family had a charade party, Ruth would sew the costumes and prepare all the props; she liked best to set the tables, arrange the flowers, and take care of everything.Mrs. Ramsay didn't like Jesper's game; but it was only a stage in growing up; children go through stages.Why did they grow so fast, she asked, pressing her chin to James's head?Why are they going to school?She hopes to always have a little doll by her side.With a doll in her arms, she is the happiest.Well, she didn't care if people called her bossy, domineering, bossy, if they wanted to.Her lips stroked James' hair, and she thought that when he grew up, he would never be as happy as he was now.But she interrupted the thought herself, for she remembered how angry her husband would be if she said such things.But it's still true.They are happier now than at any time in the future.A small tenpenny tea set would keep Cam happy for days.When they awoke in the morning, she heard them stomping and clamoring on the floor above her.They ran noisily down the corridor.Then the door swung open, and they poured in, like bright roses, wide awake and wide-eyed, as though it were some great thing to come to the dining-room looking for their breakfast (as they did every day of their lives).And so, and so on, and so on, the whole day went on, until she went upstairs to wish them good night and found them all in little beds with mosquito nets, like cherries and wood. Like the little birds in Berry's nest, they were still making up stories about insignificant things--things they'd heard during the day, or happened to see in the garden.Each of them has their own little treasure….So she came downstairs and said to her husband, why should they grow up and lose all this innocent fun?They will never feel so happy again.He is angry.Why such a pessimistic attitude towards life?He said.This kind of thinking is unreasonable.It was strange; yet she believed it to be true that, though he was sometimes melancholy and hopeless, he was, on the whole, happier and more optimistic about his future than she was.He had less contact with life's troubles than she did—perhaps that was why.He will always have his work as his spiritual anchor.She herself was not as "pessimistic" as he charged.She thought only of life--and of the brief period that lay before her eyes--her career of fifty years.Life—it unfolded before her eyes.Life, she thought—but she didn't stop thinking about it.She glanced at life because she was clearly aware of its existence, something real and purely personal, something she shared neither with her children nor with her husband.There was a constant battle between them, she on one side, life on the other, and she always tried to outdo each other as much as he could outdo her; sometimes they negotiated (when she was alone) sitting alone); she remembers scenes of compromise and reconciliation; but, oddly enough, she must admit, in the main, that life is terrible, hostile, If you let it take advantage of it.And those ever-present problems: misery, death, poverty.There is always a woman dying of cancer, even before her very eyes.She had to say to these children: You have to go through all these trials of life.She had been relentlessly explaining that to eight children (and the bill for the greenhouse repairs would have run up to £50).She knew what was ahead of them—the joys of love, the ambitions of career, the suffering of misfortune alone in a dark place—and it was for this reason that she often felt why they grew up and lost their childhood. What about all the happiness?Later, waving the sharp sword in her hand towards life, she said to herself: Nonsense!They will achieve perfect happiness.Here she considers how to get Minta and Paul married, and she feels the dangers of life; unspeakable pain); she was driven forward by a force she knew was too fast, almost to herself, as if it were an escape, to say: people must marry; people must have children Parenthood.

Was it not quite right for her to do so, she asked herself.She looked back at what she had been doing for the past week or two, wondering if she had really put any pressure on Mintae (who was only twenty-four) to make a decision.She feels uneasy.Didn't she laugh at it?Marriage required - oh, all sorts of conditions (fifty pounds for repairs to the greenhouse); one of them - she needn't say so - was the most basic; it was between her and her husband matter.Do they have that tacit understanding? "Then the fisherman put on his trousers and ran away like a madman," she read. "But outside, the storm came with such violence that he could barely stand, and houses were overturned, and trees were uprooted, and the earth was shaken, and rocks rolled into the sea, and the sky was dark, and there was lightning and thunder, Black waves rolled in, like church steeples and lofty peaks, with white foam on their tops."

She turned the page, and there were but the last few lines of the story, so she wanted to finish it, even though it was past bedtime.The twilight in the garden made her understand that it was getting late.The combination of the paler blossoms and the gray-black shadows on the leaves evokes in her a feeling of apprehension.At first she couldn't remember where this feeling of apprehension came from, but then she remembered: Paul, Minta, and Andrew hadn't come back yet.She recalled in her mind the image of these people standing on the balcony at the entrance of the hall, looking up at the sky.Andrew holds his net and basket, which indicates that he is going fishing and crabbing.This means that he will climb onto a rock that juts out into the sea; he will break away from his playmate.Or, on the way home, when the three of them marched in single file on the precipitous path, one of them would accidentally stumble.He'd roll down the ravine and be smashed to pieces.Because it was already dark.

But she doesn't let her voice change one iota as she tells the story.She closed the book and added the last words as if she had invented them herself.She looked into James' eyes and said, "They're still living there." "The story is over," she said.She saw, in his eyes, that the interest in the story vanished, and something else took its place; something hesitant, pale, like a reflection of a ray of light, which at once made him fixate, Very surprised.She turned her head, her eyes were looking across the bay, and there, no doubt, across the rough sea, the regular flash of light was first two quick flashes, and then a long, steady column of light in the smoke The light came directly from the center, it was the light from the lighthouse.The lamps on the tower have been lit.

He would ask her at once, "Are we going to the lighthouse?" and she would have to answer, "No, not tomorrow; your father said no." Luckily Madeleine came in to find them, and she was in a hurry. The sound of footsteps distracted them.But he continued to stare back when Madelete carried him out, and she was sure he was thinking that we would not go to the lighthouse tomorrow; he would remember it, she thought, all his life.