But while Martin let his fancy wander thus, he knew quite clearly at the same time that under all these reveries lay nothing but desire—a young man’s hunger for a woman’s white body. And the further on into the night this lasted, while he lay awake and stared at the gray dawn light trickling in through the blinds, the more bitterly he regretted that he had said no to the other girl, the fat one.
VI
When one asks a young man who has just passed his school examinations, “What do you intend to be?” he cannot answer, “A poet.” People would turn away their heads and put their hands over their mouths. He may answer, a lawyer or a painter or a musician, for a man can train himself for all these fields at some public institution, and even in one’s apprenticeship one has a modest place in the community, a profession to follow, one already is something; a student at the university, or a pupil in the art school or the conservatory. It is not much, but still it is always a sop to throw to indiscreet questioners, and a conceivable future to point to in the case of these more kindly disposed. But he who is to become a poet is nothing but a mockery before God and man until he is recognized and famous. He must therefore during all his long prentice years hang a false sign over his door and pretend to be busy at something that people consider respectable.
This Martin realized, he found it perfectly natural and not to be altered, and so when his father asked him what he was to be, he answered not that he meant to become a poet but that he should like to work as an extra in a government office. His father was pleased with this answer, perceiving in it a sign that his son would be as sensible and happy as himself. He had feared that Martin might want to go to Uppsala and study aesthetics and he felt within himself that he could not have refused, but he trembled at all the outlay and trouble there would be for a poor father of a family to keep a son at the university. He was therefore delighted with the reply and had nothing to remark except that Martin ought to try to enter not one office but as many as possible. That evening he invited his son to go to Blanch’s café to hear the music and drink toddy.
But the very next day he put the affair in motion, speaking with his acquaintances in various departments and helping Martin to write applications.
VII
Martin had to attend upon the chief of the bureau to which he most desired to submit his services at eight o’clock in the morning in a frock coat and white necktie. Cold and hungry, for he had not had time to eat, he went up the steps of a quiet house in a fashionable street and rang at the door of the general director. An attendant in gold braid announced him and opened the door of a dark private room with curtains only half up. Various articles of dress lay scattered about here and there on the chairs, a great green laticlave hung on the mirror, and at the threshold stood a chamberpot, which he nearly tripped over but checked himself in time and stood there making an awkward bow. In the middle of the room stood a venerable old man in a purple-red satin dressing-gown, gesticulating with a razor, his chin covered with lather. Then out of the red satin and the white lather proceeded a voice, which said: “You have a fine student certificate, young gentleman, but don’t forget that honesty and diligence are and will continue to be the highest requisites in government service. You are accepted and may report tomorrow to begin your duties, if there is anything to do. Above everything, be honest! Goodbye.”
Martin assumed that this discourteous injunction was in accord with ancient custom and refused to be daunted. He went to the office of the department, where he was given a place at a table and a thick ledger to inspect. He added up column after column.
