GrahamGreene
, weareentertained, wemaymodifysomeviewswealreadyhold, butwearemorelikelytofindinbooksmerelyaconfirmationofwhatisinourmindsalready: asinaloveaffairitisourownfeaturesthatweseereflectedflatteringlyback.
Butinchildhoodallbooksarebooksofdivination, tellingusaboutthefuture, ? , butIcouldnevercomparethatmildexpectationofcivilizedpleasurewiththemissedheartbeat, theappalledgleeIfeltwhenIfoundonalibraryshelfanovelbyRiderHaggard, PercyWesterman, , itisinthoseearlyyearsthatIwouldlookforthecrisis, themomentwhenlifetookanewslantinitsjourneytowardsdeath.
IrememberdistinctlythesuddennesswithwhichakeyturnedinalockandIfoundIcouldread—notjustthesentencesinareadingbookwiththesyllablescoupledlikerailwaycarriages, -coveredwiththepictureofaboy, boundandgagged, danglingattheendofaropeinsideawellwiththewaterrisingabovethewaist—anadventureofDixonBrett, , asIbelieved: —thewheelshadnotbeguntoturn, butnowthefuturestoodaroundonbookshelveseverywherewaitingforthechildtochoose—thelifeofacharteredaccountantperhaps, acolonialcivilservant, aplanterinChina, asteadyjobinabank, happinessandmisery, eventuallyoneparticularformofdeath, , , foronthejourneyhomeIwaspresentedforthetrainwithanotherrealbook, acopyofBallantyne’sTheCoralIslandwithonlyasinglepicturetolookat, .
