I don't
know whether you've ever noticed how lonesome one feels on these
Carnival days amidst the throngs of people. This solitude in the crowd
is far more intense than solitude in a forest. It brought to my mind
the thousand absurdities one commits; the sterility of my own life.
'I'm going to waste my life in some grubbing profession,' I said to
myself. 'I'll wind up by becoming a teacher, a sort of English
instructress. No; never that. I must seek an opportunity and the means
to emancipate myself from this petty existence, or else plunge into
tragic life.' It also occurred to me that it was very possible that
the opportunity had come to me without my knowing how to take
advantage of it, and at once I recalled my conversation with that
book-binder. I decided to go into the matter until I saw it more
clearly. Without any hope, you'll understand, but simply as an
exercise of the will. 'I need more will-power,' I said to myself,
'with which to conquer the details that come up every moment rather
than to perform some great sacrifice or be capable of an instant of
abnegation. Sublime moments, heroic acts, are rather the deeds of an
exalted intelligence than of the will; I have always felt it in me to
perform some great deed such as taking a trench or defending a
barricade or going to the North Pole; but, would I be capable of
finishing a daily stint, composed of petty provocations and dull
routine? Yes,' said I to myself, and with this resolution I mingled
with the masked merrymakers and returned to Madrid while the rest were
at the height of their fun.
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