Chapter 10 make fun of.travel accessories.Joyful emotional frustration

"What an interesting man," said Hans Castorp, as they passed through the gate after a friendly greeting to the limping porter (who was sorting letters in the door room).The building is whitewashed, the gate opens to the southeast of the house, a building in the central part is one story higher than the side houses on both sides, and there is a small bell tower covered with blue-gray iron sheet at the top.From here you can't go out into the fenced garden, but directly into the field, and in front of you is a sloping meadow in the mountains, where sparsely grown fir trees and short crooked pines grow.The road they took—the only road they could take except for the road down into the valley—was from the rear of the sanatorium, past the kitchen and the administration room, to the left slightly higher, to the stairs leading to the basement. There is a fence, and there are some iron trash cans beside the fence.In that direction still stretches a piece of land, bent in a knee, and from its upper right to a sparsely forested hill, which slopes very steeply.This is a steep and moist mountain road, the soil is slightly red, and there are some gravels on both sides of the mountain road.The cousins ​​were not the only ones walking on the road, some of the guests had followed them out as soon as they had finished their breakfast; they were met by a large group of people just walking down the hill to the sanatorium.

"What an interesting man!" repeated Hans Castorp. "He's so eloquent, it's a pleasure to hear him talk. The 'mercury cigarette' analogy for a thermometer is fantastic, and I understood it as soon as he said it...but I'd like to light a real cigarette now," he said. After a pause, he continued, "I can't help it anymore! I haven't smoked properly since noon yesterday... Please forgive me for a little while!" So he opened the car leather case with the silver monogram on it, Get out a Maria Mancini cigar.This is a beautiful "sample" placed on the top layer, one end is flattened (he likes the way cigarettes are pressed), and then with a small horn knife tied to the watch chain, the tip of the cigarette is cut off with one knife, and the pocket pocket is taken out. Let the lighter ignite, puff up your mouth and take a few puffs on the long, blunt-ended cigarette, and the cigarette will burn. "Well," he said, "now, for my sake, go on walking. You don't smoke, of course, because you're a pure fanatic."

"I've never smoked," Joachim replied. "Why should I smoke here?" "I don't understand that," said Hans Castorp, "I really don't understand why some people don't smoke. It can be said that without smoking, one loses the best part of one's life; at any rate, He doesn't have much fun in life! When I wake up, I take pleasure in the fact that I can smoke all day, and when I eat, I am delighted at the thought of it; To be able to smoke, although I am exaggerating when I say this. For me, a day without smoking is dull and uninteresting; No, to tell you the truth, I want to stay in bed. You see, if I have a good cigarette in my mouth (of course, this kind of cigarette should not have an unpleasant smell, and the quality of the cigarette should also meet the requirements, otherwise it will make people very uncomfortable. Annoyed), I mean, if you have a good cigarette, you'll be fine and everything will be fine. It's like lying on the beach. Didn't you lie on the beach? You didn't want anything, you didn't want Work, and no entertainment... Thank God, the whole world smokes. As far as I know, there is no part of the world where this habit is not practiced. I can withstand tough circumstances. When I read such news, I can't help but be filled with sympathy. A person can encounter bad things. Take me for example. I have a lot of troubles, but as long as I have a cigarette , I know that I can withstand anything, and smoking can help me tide over the difficulties."

"You are so dependent on cigarettes," said Joachim, "that you are weak-willed. Behrens is right, you are a man of letters. He said it only as a compliment, but to be honest. In other words, you are indeed an incurable literati. Besides, you are a healthy person, and you can do whatever you want." When he spoke, his eyes looked sleepy. "Well, except for my anemia, I'm a healthy man," said Hans Castorp. "He said I was blue, and he was very frank. He had a point; and I noticed myself that I was indeed very blue compared with the people here on the hills, and I didn't notice it when I was at home. He professes to give me free and unreserved advice, and he's a man with a heart. I'd be more than happy to do what he says and live exactly like yours. Now that I'm on the mountain with you, I can do more Anything else? If for God’s sake I grow some flesh, that’s no loss, though you’ll have to admit, the word flesh sounds weird.” During the walk, Joachim Tom coughed several times; it seemed that he was having a hard time going up the hill.When he coughed for the third time, he frowned and stopped. "You go ahead," he said.Hans Castorp hurried on without looking back.After a while he slowed down and almost stopped when he saw that he was far ahead of Joachim.But he didn't look around.

A group of men and women guests came to meet him.He had already seen them walking halfway up the hillside along the flat road, and now they were thumping down the hillside towards him, and all kinds of voices rang in his ears.There were six or seven of them, all of different ages, some young and some old.He looked down at them sideways, thinking only of Joachim.They don't wear hats, their faces are swarthy, the women wear patterned sweaters, and most of the men don't wear overcoats or walking sticks. Their appearance is very similar to those who stroll outside the house without any formality.Because it is going downhill, they don't need to exert much effort, they just need to stand firm and don't slip their legs, and don't fall when they rush down.In fact, this is no different from a downward free gliding movement; their gait is light, their expression and whole posture give people a sense of lightness, and others can't wait to join them.

They were beside him now, and Hans Castorp saw them clearly.They were not all suntanned, for two of the women were strikingly pale, the one scrawny with an ivory-white face, and the other short and fat with freckles ruining her features.They all stared at him and smiled at him cheekily.At this moment a tall girl in a green sweater passed Hans Castorp, her arms almost brushing his body.Her hair was disheveled, her eyes were half-closed dully, and she was whistling and whistling as she walked.Cough, this is simply too arrogant!She whistled without her mouth, and instead of raising her lips when she whistled, she closed them tightly.The hiss came from within her, and while she was blowing, she looked at Hans with glazed, half-closed eyes.This sound is particularly piercing, rough and sharp, heavy and drawn out, with a sharp drop in the end, reminiscent of a rubber piggy toy sold in the market.This is the whine that a piglet makes when the air in its belly is deflated.The whistle burst from somewhere in her breast inexplicably; blowing it, she followed her companions on.

Hans Castorp stood dumbfounded, gazing into the distance.Then he took a quick glance around.That obnoxious whistle had to be a joke, a prearranged farce—at least that was all he could grasp, for he looked over the shoulders of the group and saw they were laughing.A thick-lipped boy, with his hands in his trouser pockets, rolled up his coat indecently, even tilted his head openly at him, giggling... Just then Joachim came up.He greeted the group with the usual politeness of almost erecting himself, and bowed to them "at attention," and then walked up to his cousin with a pleasant face.

"Why are you so stern?" he asked. "The woman is whistling!" answered Hans Castorp. "She made a hissing sound in her stomach as she walked past me. Can you tell me what it is?" "Ah!" Joachim continued with a contemptuous smile: "It's not from the womb, you nonsense. Her name is Kleifelt, and her full name is Hermine Klefeldt. The voice is hers." From the pneumothorax." "From where?" asked Hans Castorp.He was very excited, but he didn't know why.Then he said ironically: "You can't expect me to understand your incision."

"Let me speak slowly!" said Joachim. "Let's talk as we go. Your foot looks like it's taken root! It's a surgical treatment, as you can imagine. It's a common operation here, Behrens." That sounds very handy. You see, if one lung is badly rotten and the other is not sick or healthy, then let the bad lung stop working for a while and let it rest...that is, they A stab here, a stab somewhere on the side of the body, I don't know exactly where, Behrens did a very good job. Then inject gas into the body, nitrogen or something, so that the bird The bad lungs like cheese can no longer breathe. Of course, this kind of gas stays in it for a short time, and after half a month, new ones have to be injected-this is like inflating a person, as you can imagine. In this way, If after a year or more all is well, the lungs are healed because they are rested. But of course it doesn't always heal, and it's even a bit risky. But with pneumothorax, it's done with good results. The ones you just saw all had pneumothorax. So did Mrs. Iltis, she was the freckled woman. And there was Miss Leffy, you remember she was skinny, she was lying in bed for a long time They're already organized, because pneumothorax and stuff like that bring people together quite naturally. They call themselves the 'Half-Lung Society' and they're famous for that. But Hermine Kleefeldt is the She can blow a whistle out of a pneumothorax. It is a talent of hers, and not everyone can do it. How she does it, I can't tell, not even herself. But when she's running fast, she makes a hiss internally; naturally, she uses this to frighten people, especially new patients. Also, I believe she uses up nitrogen when she vocalizes, because every eight days she You have to re-pneumothorax."

Then Hans Castorp laughed.While Joachim spoke, Hans passed from excitement to joy, covered his eyes and stooped as he walked; even his shoulders twitched from his giggling. "Are they registered too?" He asked with great difficulty.He tried his best not to laugh, so his voice sounded distressed and sad. "Do they have a charter? Too bad you're not one of them, or they could have admitted me as a guest of honor, or as a...alternate member...you should ask Behrens to give you a partial rest for your lungs too. Perhaps You'll hiss from your chest, too, if you feel like doing it. It's a lot of fun to learn that... it's the funniest thing I've ever heard in my life!" he said with a deep sigh. . "Forgive me for saying this, but your cheered up friends, they're in pretty good spirits too! Look at the way they came when they first came... and you've got to think, there's half a The Lung Association! She passed me 'shh-shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Joachim tried to find an answer. "My God," he said, "how free they are! I mean, they're young, time doesn't mean much to them, and they might die soon, so why should they put on such a face? Sometimes I think: sickness and death are nothing serious, they're just a way to go about your day. Only people down the mountain take life seriously. I think if you live on the mountain long enough, you'll understand this sooner or later." "That's true," said Hans Castorp, "I think I'll understand. I'm already interested in you people on the mountain. Isn't it true that if a person is interested, everything will come naturally." Understood. But my problem is just... this stuff doesn't smell right!" He stared intently at his cigar as he spoke. "These days I've been wondering what the hell is wrong with me, and now it looks like the problem is the Maria, which doesn't taste good. I assure you, it tastes like Papiermach, French, It should be papiermach, which means coagulated pulp. When a person has indigestion, he will have this smell. I really don't understand this! I do eat more breakfast than usual, but this can't be a reason, because if you It smells so good when you overeat. Do you think it's because I haven't slept well all night? Maybe it's why I'm not feeling well. No, I'll just throw the cigarette away!" he wrote. Said after a new try. "Every time I take a puff, it always disappoints me. There is no point in trying to smoke." He hesitated again, and threw the cigar into the damp pine forest at the foot of the hill. "Do you know what my discomfort has to do with it?" he asked. "The way I see it, it must have something to do with the damn fever on my face. I got up in bed and my face was so hot. I felt like I was flushed with embarrassment. What the hell! You just got here Have you ever had the same experience?" "Yes," said Joachim. "I was a little uncomfortable at first. Don't make a fuss. I told you it's not easy to get used to life here, but you'll be right again in no time. Look, this bench is a nice one. We can sit on it for a while." , and then go back to the hospital, I still have to do treatment." The road becomes smoother.It now stretches towards Davos Heights, which is about a third of the way up the mountain.Through a forest of tall, sparse, and rickety pine trees overlooking the village below, it was shining brightly with a silvery white brilliance.The rough benches on which they sat leaned against the cliff face.Near them, a spring gurgled down the valley. Joachim wanted to introduce to his cousin some of the cloud-shrouded peaks of the Alps that encircled the valley to the south, pointing him with his climbing stick.But Hans Castorp only glanced briefly.He sat hunched forward in his chair, drawing pictures in the sand with the metal tip of his silver-plated cane—a cane with an urban air.He also wanted to know something else. "What I want to ask you is—" he began, "didn't the sick man in the room just die when I came? Well, a lot of people have died since you went up the mountain?" "Several did die," replied Joachim. "But you know, they handle it carefully, people don't know it, or they only hear it later. They always keep a secret when someone dies in order to care for patients, especially women patients. Women tend to panic. If your next door When someone dies in the room, you don't even notice it. The coffin comes early in the morning, while you're asleep. And the dead are carried out at the right time, when you're eating, say." "Hum," said Hans Castorp, continuing to draw in the sand. "So they're doing it secretly." "Well, that's true. But lately, wait a minute... About eight weeks ago..." "Then you can't say it's recent," said Hans Castorp dryly and critically. "Why? Let's not talk about recent times. But you are too rigid. I just want to count the dates. Not long ago, I had a sneak peek at the inside story of this play by pure chance, and I still remember it New mile. Little Huyous - Barbara Huyous, a Catholic; I saw them put the last communion in front of her, you know, that's the Eucharist, which is the unction Li. When I came here, she could still get up, still happy, jumping up and down, like a little girl. But after a while, the disease progressed so fast that she couldn't get up. She lived in the same place as me They lived in three rooms apart. At this time her parents came, and then the priest also arrived. It happened to be afternoon when he came, and everyone was drinking tea, and there was no one in the corridor. But you see, I took a nap in bed and took a nap Over, didn't hear the gong, was a quarter of an hour late. At the critical moment, everyone was there, but I wasn't there, just got a glimpse, as you said. When I ran into the corridor, they happened to They were coming towards me, wearing lace shirts, and there was a cross leading the way in front of them, a golden cross with a lantern, like the crescent wand with a small bell tied in front of the Turkish Guards band." "Your analogy is neither fish nor fowl," Hans Castorp said gravely. "That's how it seems to me. I can't help but think of these crescent sticks. But listen to me again. They came to me like this, striding forward, walking very fast, and if I remember correctly, they came together. There were three people, the man with the cross in front, the priest with the pince-nez behind, and the young man with the censer. The priest held the last communion on his chest, covered by something. The priest tilted his head, They look very humble. Of course it is the most sacred thing for them." "Indeed," said Hans Castorp. "That's why I wonder why you talk about crescent sticks." "Well, well. Just stay a while. But if you were there, I wonder what look you'll have on your face when you look back afterwards. It's a real nightmare..." "What did you say?" "Here's the thing: I was thinking, what am I going to do in this situation. I'm not wearing a hat, I can't take it off." "Look at you!" interrupted Hans Castorp again. "Now you can see clearly that we should wear a hat! I am naturally surprised that no one wears a hat here on your mountain. You should wear one anyway, so that you can take it off at the right time. Well, what about the future? " "I was leaning against the wall," said Joachim, "well-behaved, and I bowed a little when they came up to me. We were just in front of the ward where little Huius lived, and it was the second Room No. 18. I think the priest must have been very pleased to see me leaning over to greet him. He thanked me very politely and took off his hat. But at the same time they stopped, and the young assistant with the censer knocked The door, the doorknob turned and the door opened, and they let the priest into the room. Now imagine my feelings and fears! As soon as the priest's feet stepped into the room, there was a cry of help and screams. , You have never heard this kind of sound before. The yelling came three or four times in succession, and then there was a continuous wail of 'ah-ah'. When he yelled, he obviously opened his mouth wide, and his voice was full of pain, terror and resistance. , It is simply indescribable. There is also a pleading sound in the cry, which makes people feel horrified. Then, the sound suddenly became hoarse and low, as if it had sunk into the ground, and it seemed to come from the cellar." Hans Castorp turned sharply and stared at his cousin. "Is that the voice of Juus?" he asked angrily. "Why did the sound come from the cellar?" "Her head is under the covers!" said Joachim. "Think about how I felt at that time! The priest stood by the threshold, saying some comforting words. I still seem to see him sticking his head out at first, and then retracting. The man with the cross and his assistant are still at the door Standing hesitantly, unable to go in. From among them I could see the outline of the room. In fact, this room is like yours and mine. The hospital bed is placed by the side wall to the left of the door, and a group of people are standing at the head of the bed, Of course it was relatives, parents, and they also bowed their heads towards the hospital bed to say some comforting words. Looking at the bed, she no longer looked like a human being, she seemed to be just a lump; legs." "You said she kicked her legs?" "She's trying her best! But it's not going to work, she has to take the last communion. The priest approaches her, the other two enter the room, and the door closes. But before I do, I have time to see Juus's head flashing." All of a sudden, the light-blond hair was disheveled, and he stared at the priest with wide-open eyes, the eyes were bloodless, and then he screamed and got under the quilt." "Is this the first time you're speaking to me now?" said Hans Castorp after a pause. "I don't know why you didn't say it last night. My God, she must have had a fair amount of strength to defend herself, and that takes strength. A man shouldn't call a priest until he's exhausted." "She is very weak indeed," replied Joachim. "Well, there's a lot to talk about, but the words are hard... She was weak already, but the terror gave her so much strength. She was terrified then, because she saw she was going to die. She Still a young girl, we've got to forgive her. But grown-ups are sometimes like that too, and it's unforgivably weak. Behrens knows how to deal with them; and in this case, his tone is just right. .” "How does he sound?" asked Hans Castorp, frowning. "He always said 'Please don't do this!'" Joachim replied. "At least he's said that recently. We heard it from the head nurse. The head nurse was there to help the dying patient. The patient was very noisy until he died, and didn't want to die at all. At this moment, Beren Si approached him and said: 'Please don't do this!' The patient immediately quieted down and died without a sound." Hans Castorp clapped his hands on his thighs, leaned back on the back of the bench, and looked up at the sky. "Well, I say, that's too much," he said aloud. "Going up to a dying man and just saying, 'Please don't do that!' That's really too much! A dying man is somewhat respectable. We can't be inhumane to him. I really do. I want to say that dying people are simply holy!" "I don't deny that," said Joachim. "But when the patient is so feeble..." "No!" insisted Hans Castorp, speaking with a passion not in the least commensurate with the resistance he met. "I insist that a dying man is better than any grinning, loafing, rough guy earning a few bucks to feed himself! That's not very nice..." he said quizzically, his voice trembling. "It's not good to be so ruthless to a dying person..." He suddenly stopped talking at this point, and then let out a burst of uncontrollable laughter. This laughter was as impulsive and long-winded as when he laughed yesterday. Uncontrollable, even the body trembled, so he closed his eyes, and tears rolled down his eyelids. "Hush!" Joachim stopped him suddenly. "Shut up!" He said softly, and at the same time secretly pushed the waist of his cousin who kept laughing.Hans Castorp looked up with tearful eyes. A stranger is coming from the road on the left.He was a dark, well-mannered gentleman with a handsome, black curled-up moustache, and light check trousers.As he approached, he exchanged good mornings with Joachim, who pronounced it with precision and intonation.With his legs crossed and his cane leaning on him, he stood calmly before Joachim.