Section: Reading

56) PROSE FICTION: This passage is taken from the novel Too Late the Phalarope by the South African author Alan Paton. In this scene, one character tries to help another overcome a bout of anger and depression.

Yes, I thought to myself, it's in the kitchen that work is done. My brother must have known it, but he never thought one would be touched by a word of thanks. I felt suddenly tired and old, and pitied myself, and remembered my lip and that no man had ever wanted me. I do not dwell on these things in my thoughts, you must not thinks it. I count my blessings, as they say. For the Lord gave me a good home, and a little money of my own, and a brother that for all his ways was an upright man, and just; and a sister-in-law for whom I would any time die. For she gave me her children to be as my own, especially the one, and knew I loved him perhaps beyond all wisdom, and never denied me. But one does not always count one's blessings; strange it is that one should go from sweet mood to black in one brief moment. I went to the pantry and sat down, and stared at the floor.

---Tante, what's wrong?

I stared at his voice, for I did not hear him come, but it was too late to put on another face. He came and stood by me, and lifted my rough hands, and turned them upwards and looked at them, and moved his thumbs over them with gentleness.

---What's wrong, he said.

But I would not look at him. He held my hands more tightly, but kept moving his thumbs over their roughness. Then he said, in a voice that meant he would not be silent, I asked you what was wrong.

I pulled my hands away from him.

---Ag, I said, I'm angry that I was born.

But he did not comfort or chide me, or tell me not be a fool, or say come back to the party, or say anything at all. He stood there, not saying anything, not touching me, and I knew that I had put the black mood into him also, and for shame I could not look at him.
Then he said, it's I that should be angry I was born.
But I said to him, not looking at him, what do you mean?
But he did not answer me. I got to my feet and took him by the arms, but he looked over me, and I was not tall enough to see his eyes.

--- Tell me, I said urgently, tell me.

---Ag, it's nothing, he said, it comes and it goes.

I tried to go back so that I could see his face, but he held me and would not let me, as though it were important I should not see it until he had time to recover, for he had opened the door of his soul and now repented it. And so strange was this for him, who was himself so strong and sure, and not a man for holding people unless he were in command of himself and them, that I knew it was true that he had opened the door, and that I had forced myself into it, and that he was forcing me out, so that he could shut it again. So I lost my sense, being myself tired and in the black mood, and forgot the bitter lessons that he himself had taught me in the past; and I was vasberade, that is I mean determined, to find out what was wrong. So I went to the pantry door and shut it, and knew the moment I had done it I had not shut myself in but had shut myself out. He might have said to me Tante, That's enough, or he might have said, must I teach you again, but he did not say that, seeing me standing at the door, and knowing I was already humbled and defeated.

---Tante, he said gently, I told you it comes and goes. What about some coffee?

The events in the passage take place: