IN PRISON
7
thingsinto consideration and consoling and inspirational as that
reenemay have been, I do not feel that what is suited to an asylum
isnecessarilysuited to a prison. That is, because I expect to go to
prisonin full possession of my "faculties,"-in fact it is not until I
amsecurely installed there that I expect fully to realize them,-I
feelthat something a little less rustic, a little harsher, might be of more
useto me personally. But it is a difficult question, and one that is
probablybest decided, as of course it must be, by chance alone.
What I should like best of all, I might as well confess, would
be a view of a court-yard paved with stone. I have a fondness for
stonecourt-yards that amounts almost to a passion. If I were not to
be imprisoned I should at least attempt to make that part of my
dreama reality; I should want to live in a farm house such as I have
IeeIlin foreign countries, a farm-house with an absolutely bare stone
platform attached to it, the stones laid in a simple pattern
of squares or diamonds. Another pattern I admire is interlocking
cobble-stonefans, with a border of larger stones set around the edge.
Butfrom my cell window I should prefer, say, a lozenge design, out-
&nedby long stones, the interior of the lozenges made of cobbles, and
the pattern narrowing away from my window towards the distant
wallof the prison-yard. The rest of my scenery would be the responsi-
bilityof the weather alone, although I should rather face the east
thanthe west since I much prefer sunrises to sunsets. Then, too, it is
by
lookingtowards the east that one obtains the most theatrical effects
froma sunset, in my opinion. I refer to that fifteen minutes or half
an hour of heavy gold in which any object can be made to look
magicallysignificant. If the reader can tell me of anything more
beautifulthan a stone court-yard lit obliquely in this way so that
theshallowly rounded stones each cast a small shadow but the general
surfaceis thickly sanded with gold, and a pole casts a long, long
shadowand a limp wire an unearthly one,-I beg him to tell me
whatit is.
I understand that most prisons are now supplied with libraries
andthat the prisoners are expected to read the
Everyman's Library
andother books of educational tendencies. I hope I am not being too
reactionarywhen I say that my one desire is to be given one very
dullbook to read, the duller the better. A book, moreover, on a sub-
ject completely foreign to me; perhaps the second volume, if the first
wouldfamiliarize me too well with the terms and purpose of the
work.Then I shall be able to experience with a free conscience the
pleasure,perverse, I suppose, of interpreting it not at all according
toits intent. Because I share with Valery's
M. Teste
the "knowledge
thatour thoughts are reflected back to us, too much so, through ex-
