'
'No,' he said, outspoken with anger. 'I want you to drop your assertive
WILL, your frightened apprehensive self-insistence, that is what I
want. I want you to trust yourself so implicitly, that you can let
yourself go.'
'Let myself go!' she re-echoed in mockery. 'I can let myself go, easily
enough. It is you who can't let yourself go, it is you who hang on to
yourself as if it were your only treasure. YOU--YOU are the Sunday
school teacher--YOU--you preacher.'
The amount of truth that was in this made him stiff and unheeding of
her.
'I don't mean let yourself go in the Dionysic ecstatic way,' he said.
'I know you can do that. But I hate ecstasy, Dionysic or any other.
It's like going round in a squirrel cage. I want you not to care about
yourself, just to be there and not to care about yourself, not to
insist--be glad and sure and indifferent.'
'Who insists?' she mocked. 'Who is it that keeps on insisting? It isn't
ME!'
There was a weary, mocking bitterness in her voice.
Pages:
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525