Chapter 17 necessary purchase

"Is your summer over now?" Hans Castorp asked his cousin sarcasticly on the third day. The weather has gotten really bad these days. On the second day of the guest's stay on the mountain, the whole day was a gorgeous summer scene.Above the lance-tops of the fir-trees, the sun shone from the blue sky, and the villages in the valley shone blindingly in the heat of the sun.The air echoed with the lowing of the cows, both happy and sad; they swung slowly to and fro, nibbling the short weeds in the hot meadows on the hillsides.The ladies had already put on bright-coloured blouses while having breakfast, and some even wore open sleeves. Not everyone could fit such clothes.Mrs. Steele, for example, is ugly to wear, and the skin on the back of her hands is like a sponge, and she does not deserve to wear such fragrant clothes.The men in the nursing home also felt the fine weather, and they dressed up in various ways.Someone else wore brilliant jackets and linen, and Joachim wore flannel trousers of crisp white to complement his sky-blue coat.This set of clothes gave him a more military look.As for Setambrini, he had more than once indicated that he wanted to change his suit. "Damn it!" he had remarked when he and the cousins ​​walked down to the village after lunch. "What a hot sun! I think I'll have to wear light clothes." But despite his high-pitched words, he still wears a plush sweater with a lapel collar and checkered trousers, as before.Maybe that's all he has in his closet.

But on the third day, God seemed to encounter some misfortune, and everything was reversed.Hans Castorp could hardly believe his eyes.It happened twenty minutes after lunch, when everyone was taking a lunch break.At this time, the sun suddenly disappeared, and ugly gray-brown clouds shrouded the ridge in the southeast. A bone-chilling wind of unknown nature suddenly swept across the valley, as if blowing from somewhere in the world of ice and snow, and the temperature suddenly dropped. Come on, everything changes. "It's snowing," said Joachim from behind the glass partition.

"What do you mean 'snow'?" asked Hans Castorp. "Didn't you say it's going to snow now?" "It must be snowing," Joachim replied. "We know the temper of the wind. When the wind blows, people can sled." "Nonsense!" said Hans Castorp. "It's still early August, if I remember correctly." But Joachim knew the situation in this area well, and he was right.Within a few minutes, thunder rumbled and a blizzard came.The blizzard and snow were so fierce that there seemed to be white smoke everywhere, and it was almost impossible to see anything in the village and valley.The blizzard blew all afternoon.The heat was on again.Joachim could use his fur sleeping bag again, and continued his recumbent therapy, while Hans Castorp fled into the room, moved a chair to the radiator, and looked out the window at the Chaotic scenery, and shaking his head from time to time.The next morning the blizzard stopped.Although the temperature outside was a few degrees above freezing, the snow had already accumulated to a depth of a foot, so before the dazzled Hans Castorp, a pure winter scene unfolded.At this time, the heat was turned off again in the nursing home.The room temperature is six degrees above zero.

"Is your summer over now?" Hans Castorp sarcastically said to his cousin. "It's hard to say," said Joachim coldly. "If God is merciful, there will be some sunny summer days ahead, even in September. The fact is that the seasons here are not so different throughout the year, so to speak. They are intertwined, and the calendar is Not counting. In winter, the sun is often so strong that people sweat when they walk, and have to take off their coats. In summer, you can see it with your own eyes, as it is sometimes here in summer. When it snows, Everything is turned upside down. It snows in January, and it snows a lot in May, and it snows in August, as you have seen. On the whole, there is no month without snow, which has become the rule. In short, although there are winter and summer, spring and autumn here, but when it comes to the regular four seasons, we don’t have any in the mountains.”

"It's a real mess," said Hans Castorp.He put on galoshes and a winter coat and went downhill with his cousin to the village to buy blankets for reclining therapy, since the plaid poncho he was wearing was obviously not warm enough in the weather.Right now he was even debating whether to buy a fur sleeping bag, but decided against it.When I think of it, I feel a little scared in my heart. "No, no," he said, "let's just buy the blanket! I'll still need it on my descents, and I'll need blankets wherever I go. It's nothing new or exciting. But fur sleeping bags are very Chic! If I got one, I'd make a home here, sort of like one of you...you know what I mean? I don't want to say anything anyway. Just going to buy one for two or three weeks Fur sleeping bags, really not worth it."

Joachim agreed, and they bought two camel-hair rugs, just like Joachim's, in a nice, well-stocked store in the English Emporium.It is a long and wide undyed fabric that is soft and comfortable.They ordered the store to immediately send these blankets to the nursing home—Room 34 of the Shanzhuang International Sanitarium. This afternoon Hans Castorp was going to use it for the first time. Naturally, they bought blankets after the second breakfast, otherwise, according to the schedule of work and rest, they would never have the opportunity to go down the mountain to the streets.At this time, it began to rain, and the snow on the street had turned into icicles, which splashed away when one stepped on it.On their way back to the hospital they caught up with Setambrini, who was also climbing the mountain path leading to the sanatorium with an umbrella (though no hat).The spaghetti was disheveled and moody.He complained in elegant terms that it was cold and wet, and that he had suffered so much in such weather.How nice it would be to have heating!But as soon as the snow stops, the hateful authorities turn off the heat. What a stupid regulation, a vicious caricature of human reason!When Hans Castorp contradicted him—Hans believed that a lukewarm room temperature was convalescent, apparently in order to keep the patient from being overly coddled—Setambrini replied Then he taunted him severely.Well, the principles of healing actually count for nothing.Are the healing principles sacrosanct? Hans Castorp has a point when he speaks of them, but that means nothing but blind faith and submission.It is a pity that one thing stands out (although it is extremely comforting): those rules and regulations that people obey like gods coincide with the economic interests of those in power, while those institutions that have little stake, they open their eyes. Close... When the cousin laughed at these words, Sethambrini talked about his dead father; when talking about the heat he longed for, he thought of his father.

"My father," he said slowly and reverently, "was a remarkable man, sensitive both in body and mind. How he loved his little warm study in the winter! He loved it with all his heart. In it, the indoor fire is burning red, so it can always maintain a temperature of 20 degrees. Sometimes the weather is wet and cold, and there is a piercing wind from a foreign land. At this time, if you enter this study through the corridor, you You will feel as warm as spring, as if wrapped in a soft shawl. Tears of happiness will fill your eyes. The little study is filled with books and manuscripts of all kinds, some of which are very precious. He Standing at the little table in his blue flannel pajamas, surrounded by his spiritual treasures, and burying his head in his manuscript. He is small in stature. Come to think of it, he is a head shorter than I am! But on his temples Thick and grizzled locks of hair, and a long, straight nose, gentlemen! What a knowledge of ancient Roman culture he was! He was second to none in his day, and few men were as proficient in the native language as he was. He wrote Latin from one body, no one can match him. He is really Giovanni Boccaccio (Giovanni Boccaccio, 1313-1375), a famous Italian writer during the Renaissance, is his masterpiece. He His works had a great influence on later European literature. The ideal uomo letterato is Italian, which means a scholar or a literati. Many scholars have traveled thousands of miles to exchange opinions with him, some of which come from the Swedish place name of Haparanda, which is Sweden The northernmost city., some from Krakow, Poland., They came to our hometown, Padua, Italy. City, obviously to pay homage to him. He always received them with kindness and dignity. He He is also an outstanding poet. He also writes stories in the beautiful Italian region name of Tuscany when he is free. Setambrini said triumphantly, slowly rolling his tongue in his native accent while shaking his head back and forth. "He has set up his little garden after Virgil," he went on, "and what he says is both reasonable and beautiful. But his little study must be warm and warm, or he will shiver with cold; let him freeze He will weep with rage. Now think, engineer, think, Lieutenant, that this father's son has to suffer in this savage, damned place, shivering in the middle of summer, And in the face of this humiliating spectacle, mental torments are often too! Oh, what a torture! What characters surround us! Consultants, Krokowskis, foolish monsters... "Speaking of which, Setambrini seemed to hesitate to speak. "Krokowski, the confessor is ashamed, he hates me because I uphold the dignity of the human being and don't allow him to blabber about dogmatically... At my table... I have to sit at the same table What a group of people! The place on my right is Halle, in what is now Germany. The brewer is called Magnus, and he has a mustache like a bundle of hay!' Please Don't you talk to me about literature,' he said. 'What's the use of literature? It's just beautiful words! What have I to do with beautiful words? I'm a practical person, and beautiful words are almost Doesn't exist!' That's how he sees it. Beautiful words... Alas, Holy Mother! His wife sits across from him, less and less fleshy, and more and more stupid. It's mean and disgusting Pity……"

Joachim and Hans Castorp agreed that this statement made sense and was only tacit.They found his words both sentimental and provocative, with a hint of rebellion in their sharp tone, and they were interested and even instructive.Hans Castorp could not help smiling kindly at hearing him say things like "a beard like a bundle of hay" and "beautiful writing."It was not so much that Hans laughed at this, but rather because of the funny and dejected look on Sethambrini's face when he said such things.Then he said: "For God's sake, that's how people in society come together to form a group. You can't choose who you dine with, or God knows what the outcome will be. We also had a lady at our table... Mrs. Steele , I think you know her too? It can be said that she has no education at all. Sometimes when she babbles, people's eyes don't know where to look. But she often complains about the bad weather, which makes her Always lazy, I'm afraid she's sick. That's kind of weird—sick and stupid: I don't know if that's the right way to say it. But I've always had a weird idea that if a person Stupid and sick, both, then it's the saddest thing in the world. People don't know how to deal with such people at all, don't they, and the sick have to be respected after all. As for the sick, People always take it with some respect - if I may say so. However, if a person is so stupid that 'fomulus' plausible Latin, Mrs. Steele's invention or misspelling. And 'universe store' here is The "cosmetics store" mistake, because the two words are spelled similarly. And so on. It's ridiculous, and people's moods get into a certain kind of trouble; it's a sad situation, I It's just indescribable. I mean, it's incongruous. It's irrelevant. People are not used to such associations. People think that stupid people must be healthy and ordinary, but disease can make people refined and intelligent. , out of the ordinary. That's what people tend to think, don't they? I may have said more than I should have said," he concluded. "It's just because we talk about it now and then..." He was at a loss now.

Joachim was also a little uncomfortable.At this moment Setambrini raised his eyebrows and said nothing, as if politely waiting for the conversation to end.In fact, he cut it off on purpose in order to confuse Hans Castorp.Then he said: "Sapristi expresses the modal particle of exclamation, meaning "Oops! ", Engineer, you have shown a remarkable philosophical talent, which I never thought you had! From your theory, you must be less healthy than you look, because you read this with obvious vigor. But please Allow me to be blunt: I disagree with your reasoning, I deny it, I even disapprove of it, you can see that I am a little impatient with matters of reason, and I would rather be dismissed as pedantic than submissive I succumb to your point of view. The point of view you have formulated seems to me to be quite necessary to refute..."

"However, Monsieur Sethambrini..." "Please... you allow me... I understand what you're trying to say. You're trying to say that you don't mean it in a serious way, that the views you represent aren't necessarily your own, they just seem to be floating in the air Take a chance and take your chances without any responsibility. At your age, this is quite appropriate. There is no fixed opinion of adults here. You can pre-assess with various opinions Try. Placet experiri Latin: try it out.," he said, softly saying the "C" in an Italian accent. "That's an aphorism. What puzzles me is the fact that your experiments are going in exactly that direction. I doubt it's accidental. I'm afraid there will be a tendency which, if left unchecked, will There is a danger of deep-rooted formation. I therefore feel it my duty to correct you. You say that sickness and stupidity combined are the saddest thing in the world. I admit it. I would rather have a patient with a rich mind than a A consumptive fool. But when you see sickness and stupidity combined as an aesthetic incongruity, a blight on nature, or, as you like to say, a certain kind of distress in the minds of men, then I There is an objection. You see disease as something noble and, as you say, something respectable, which has nothing to do with stupidity. That's what you say. I don't think so! Disease It's not at all refined, it's not at all respectable. Such a view is itself morbid, or tends to be morbid. If I told you how banal and ugly the idea is, it might turn you off. It It originated from the era when human beings worshiped superstition and only knew how to confess their sins. At that time, people's ideological realm was very low, and they only knew how to imitate clumsily. It was an extremely terrible era, and people regarded harmony and health as suspicious and evil things. As for sickness, it was like a license to heaven at that time. But later, rationality and enlightenment education dispelled these shadows in the human mind, but not completely, and we are still fighting with them today. Struggle. This struggle, sir, is called work, work for the world, for honor, for the good of mankind, in which men are daily retrained, and these are the forces that will liberate man completely and bring him to progress and On the road of civilization, let them obtain a brighter, gentler, and purer aura."

Good fellow! thought Hans Castorp, startled and ashamed.What a high pitch he sings! How on earth did I elicit these words just now? It sounds somewhat dull to me.He is always talking about work.He talked about work over and over again, but in fact something was wrong.But Hans said: "You are very eloquent, Monsieur Settembrini. Everything you have just said is worth learning. I don't think it will be spoken...with the same eloquence as you." "Back," Settembrini said. Ney went on, waving his umbrella over the head of a passerby as he spoke, "Going back mentally to that dark and miserable time, engineer, believe me, it's a disease, a disease people have studied. A tired disease. Science has given it many names: aesthetics and psychology have given it one, politics another. These are academic terms, unrealistic, and it is better not to talk about them. But in spiritual life everything is connected, and one thing leads to another, and one does not hold out one's little finger to the devil, lest the devil seize the whole hand and the whole body... On the other hand, sound principles But always produces healthy results, whatever your starting point. So you have to remember that illness is far from being a refined and overly respectable thing, nor is it regrettably inextricably linked with stupidity, It signifies nothing more than a humiliation; yes, it is a painful and embarrassing humiliation of mankind, which can be sympathized with in individual cases, but it would be a great mistake to pay homage to it! You should remember this! That's where going astray, that's the beginning of insanity. That woman you just mentioned - I can't remember her name, oh, thank you, it was Mrs. Stahl - is a ridiculous woman; in my opinion Come on, doesn't she put people's minds in a bind, as you say? She's sick and stupid, a poor wretch. It's very simple. In short, people can only sympathize with this type of person, or shrug Shoulders. Sir, when nature is so cruel and merciless that it breaks the harmony of the human body, or in the first place makes people impotent, and makes the noble and enthusiastic mind unable to adapt to life, then the dilemma, that is, the tragedy begins. Engineer, may you Get to know Leopardi Leopardi (Giacomo Leopardi, 1798-1837), a famous Italian poet and scholar in the 19th century, was weak and sickly since childhood, and suffered ups and downs in his life, preparing for hardships. "To Italy", "To Silvia" and other poems are his famous works. His poems have a place in Italian literature.? Or you, Lieutenant? This is one of our unfortunate poets, a hunched and sickly Man, born with a noble soul, is often humiliated and mocked because of many disasters in his body. His suffering is really painful. Listen to this!" So Setambrini began to recite something in Italian, letting the beautiful syllables flow from his tongue, shaking his head as he recited, sometimes with his eyes closed, even though his companions didn't say a word. Understood, he didn't care.He did this, apparently for the self-admiration of his memory and pronunciation, and also to show off before listening to his mates.Finally he said: "But you don't understand this. You listen, but you don't understand the pathos. Gentlemen, what the crippled Leopardi lacks chiefly is the love of women, and perhaps that makes him all the more irrepressible." Anguish of the heart, do you fully understand such feelings? Honor and virtue are paled before him, and nature seems to have malice for him--it is, and it is simply evil and stupid, and I agree with him. —He is pessimistic, it is painful to say; he has even despaired of science and progress! Engineer, that is the tragedy. Your so-called 'dilemma of people's mood' I think is this, and there It's not the same thing with a woman like her, and as for her name, forgive me... For God's sake, please don't talk to me about 'spiritual improvement' after being sick! Don't talk about it! No The soul of a body is as inhuman and as terrible as a body without a soul, though the former is a rare exception and the latter is commonplace. Generally speaking, the body grows, prospers, and transfers all important and rich things to life. The living thing attracts, and can get rid of the soul, and exists repulsively. Anyone who lives as a sick person is just a body, which is both unnatural and humiliating-in most cases, It's just the walking dead..." "That's very interesting," Joachim interrupted suddenly.He bowed forward and stared blankly at his cousin, who was walking beside Settambrini at the moment. "Some things are similar to what you said recently." "Really?" said Hans Castorp. "Yes, I may have had similar thoughts in my mind." They continued to walk a few steps forward, and Setambrini did not make a sound.Then he said: "It's better like this, my sir. If it's true, it's better. I don't want to preach to you any ingenious philosophy. It's not my job. If our engineer and my point of view Again, that only confirms my hypothesis: that he is intellectually undeveloped. Like any other talented young man, he is just experimenting with ideas at the moment. A talented young man is not a blank slate. He is like a piece of paper written with sympathetic ink, on which both "good" and "evil" are written; 'Evil' will be eradicated forever through appropriate means. Are you two gentlemen buying something just now?" He asked in another lighter tone. "No, nothing," said Hans Castorp, "it's just..." "We're just getting two blankets for our cousin," replied Joachim coldly. "It's for recumbent therapy... It's terribly cold... I've got another two or three weeks," Hans Castorp said with a smile, looking down at the ground. "Oh, blankets, recumbent therapy," said Sethambrini, "yes, well, well, eh, eh, eh. In fact, try it." He repeated the latter in an Italian accent Latin, and farewell, as by this time they had entered the gates of the sanatorium, and greeted the limping porter.In the lobby, Setambrini turned and went into the reception room, where he said he would sit at the table and read the newspaper.Apparently, he wanted to avoid the first reclining session. "Thank goodness!" said Hans Castorp, as they boarded the elevator together with Joachim. "He's a real moralist. He's said himself lately that he has something of a moralist about him. Be careful not to talk too much in your dealings with him, lest he nag you. But he His words are beautiful, and he speaks clearly, and every word that comes out of his mouth is smooth and attractive. When I listen to him, I feel as if many fresh buns are rolled out one by one." Joachim laughed. "You'd better not talk to him like that. I'm sure he'll be disappointed if you imagine his teachings as buns." "Do you think so? I can't say for sure. I always think that his purpose is not just to spread his great truth. Maybe this is his secondary purpose; the main purpose is to speak itself, so that people Listen to how every word rolls out of his mouth... How elastic his words are, almost like rubber balls! He is quite pleased when people notice this. Magnus the brewer said 'beautiful ', that's a bit stupid, but I'm afraid Sethambrini also said something about the actual place of literature in life. I don't want to ask questions, lest I make a fool of myself, I don't know much about it , I never met a man of letters before. But if they don't mean beautiful typefaces, they obviously mean beautiful words, that's the impression I got in Setambrini's circle. He used What a vocabulary! He speaks the word 'virtue' so freely, God knows! I've never had that word on my lips in my life, except at school, when the word 'morality' came up in the books , we always just say 'brave'. I must say, I feel very uncomfortable at the moment. When I hear him yelling about how cold it is, and yelling at Berens and Mrs. Magnus—on this lady It's just that she's lost weight—I'm not always comfortable with yelling at everything anyway. He's against everything, I can see that right away. He hates every existing system, and I can't help thinking that he's a Unscrupulous people." "You may say so," replied Joachim thoughtfully, "but there is also a certain pride in him that cannot be regarded as unbridled. On the contrary, this man has great respect for himself and for all mankind. Puts me in a certain liking for him; it's a merit in my mind." "You're right," said Hans Castorp. "He's even a little stern, which is often unpleasant because it puts—how should I put it—constraints, well, that's not a bad way of expressing it. Sleeping blankets seem to be unappreciative, highly disapproving, and obsessed with the matter, do you feel the same?" "No," said Joachim, after a moment's thought, surprised. "How is this possible? I don't think so." So he took the thermometer in his mouth and went to bed with all his belongings.Hans Castorp began at once to wash and dress, and to prepare lunch, which was still less than an hour away.