On the Subject of Love
Henrik returns from his engagement with the Gracious Widow's chief enforcer very late at night--late enough that, although he considers ducking into Eris's shop, he feels himself sagging palpably at the prospect. His leaden feet drag upon the cobblestones, and he hurries past the lamplit windows, only pausing long enough to catch a faint breath of lilies as he goes.
Harold has locked up the premises for the night, and Henrik must fumble for his key to let himself in. He hangs up his hat and his coat by the entrance, then slips off his jacket and vest and slides his braces down over his shoulders. Exhausted as he is, he recognizes that it is only a tiredness brought on by prolonged social performance. He has had to represent himself as the same man whom the Widow had employed, more than half a year ago--the same man he was before his death. Henrik has come to understand that these two men (his past self and his present) are materially different, and perhaps will never be reconciled; his death represents an insoluble break.
Curling up in his favourite armchair, he settles in to read Northanger Abbey. The society romance, coupled with the tropes of the Gothic, soothes him and makes him charitable as nothing else can.
Harold has locked up the premises for the night, and Henrik must fumble for his key to let himself in. He hangs up his hat and his coat by the entrance, then slips off his jacket and vest and slides his braces down over his shoulders. Exhausted as he is, he recognizes that it is only a tiredness brought on by prolonged social performance. He has had to represent himself as the same man whom the Widow had employed, more than half a year ago--the same man he was before his death. Henrik has come to understand that these two men (his past self and his present) are materially different, and perhaps will never be reconciled; his death represents an insoluble break.
Curling up in his favourite armchair, he settles in to read Northanger Abbey. The society romance, coupled with the tropes of the Gothic, soothes him and makes him charitable as nothing else can.