DORIS LESSING
549
of the subtle and esoteric sort from many cultures. Unlike the man on the
other side of London, he did not collect women, for he aimed to find at
last that woman who would be his sole companion in the ways of love,
because, he claimed, for real achievement in love, two bodies and hearts
and-he would insist--souls, as well, should be perfectly in tune with each
other, and this could take months, even years. He despised, could not take
seriously, people with several or many sex partners, or even more than one.
Mere amateurs: they understood nothing. His wife had been his colleague,
his ideal, but she had insisted on having children, and so with regret they
parted. She lived in a flat nearby, and he was a good father to the children,
but as he said, children do not go well with the erotic life. With her he had
sex of a utilitarian sort. I am of course tempted here to invent a chronicle
of amorous adventure, a diary of arcane delights, but I had to earn my liv–
ing, and there was a child to consider. My interesting friend understood the
problem well: the pursuit of real love needed a reliable private income and
childlessness, he said often. We met occasionally, before he left London for
Spain, for a meal and a chat, and I heard all about his present researches,
and occasionally did sigh a little, for surely there are few more delightful
ways of passing the time-but even to use that phrase explains why I could
never have been a suitable candidate. Besides, I must confess, perhaps
slightly ashamed, like someone who has failed a high examination, that
long-term I would get bored.
Truly he was right when he said that one had to
put one's whole heart into the thing, like searching for a Holy Grail or for
a key to a mysterious hidden realm-the growing point, in fact-or oth–
erwise expect the ravages of futility, a soured desert.
