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His life was a constant war with insensate objects that fell apart, or attacked him, or refused to function, or viciously got themselves lost as soon as they entered the sphere of his existence.
Some people – and I am one of them – hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm. Doom should not jam. The avalanche stopping in its tracks a few feet above the cowering village behaves not only unnaturally but unethically.
‘It is nothing but a kind of microcosmos of Communism – all that psychiatry,’ rumbled Pnin, in his answer to Chateau. ‘Why not leave their private sorrows to people? Is sorrow not, one asks, the only thing in the world people really possess?’
St Bart’s was not particularly pleased either with Lake’s methods or with their results, but kept him on because it was fashionable to have at least one distinguished freak on the staff.
