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ThinkingasaHobbybyWilliamGoldingWhileIwasstillaboy,Icametotheconclusionthattherewerethreegradesofthinking;andsinceIwaslatertoclaimthinkingasmyhobby,Icametoanevenstrangerconclusion-namely,thatImyselfcouldnotthinkatall.Imusthavebeenanunsatisfactorychildforgrownupstodealwith.Irememberhowincomprehensibletheyappearedtomeatfirst,butnot,ofcourse,howIappearedtothem.Itwastheheadmasterofmygrammarschoolwhofirstbroughtthesubjectofthinkingbeforeme-thoughneitherintheway,norwiththeresultheintended.Hehadsomestatuettesinhisstudy.Theystoodonahighcupboardbehindhisdesk.Onewasaladywearingnothingbutabathtowel.Sheseemedfrozeninaneternalpaniclestthebathtowelslipdownanyfarther,andsinceshehadnoarms,shewasinanunfortunatepositiontopullthetowelupagain.Nexttoher,crouchedthestatuetteofaleopard,readytospringdownatthetopdrawerofafilingcabinetlabeledA-AH.Myinnocenceinterpretedthisasthevictim'slast,despairingcry.Beyondtheleopardwasanaked,musculargentleman,whosat,lookingdown,withhischinonhisfistandhiselbowonhisknee.Heseemedutterlymiserable.Sometimelater,Ilearnedaboutthesestatuettes.Theheadmasterhadplacedthemwheretheywouldfacedelinquentchildren,becausetheysymbolizedtohimtowholeoflife.ThenakedladywastheVenusofMilo.ShewasLove.Shewasnotworriedaboutthetowel.Shewasjustbusybeingbeautiful.TheleopardwasNature,andhewasbeingnatural.Thenaked,musculargentlemanwasnotmiserable.HewasRodin'sThinker,animageofpurethought.Itiseasytobuysmallplastermodelsofwhatyouthinklifeislike.IhadbetterexplainthatIwasafrequentvisitortotheheadmaster'sstudy,becauseofthelatestthingIhaddoneorleftundone.Aswenowsay,Iwasnotintegrated.Iwas,ifanything,disintegrated;andIwaspuzzled.Grownupsnevermadesense.WheneverIfoundmyselfinapenalpositionbeforetheheadmaster'sdesk,withthestatuettesglimmeringwhitelyabovehim,Iwouldsinkmyhead,claspmyhandsbehindmyback,andwritheoneshoeovertheother.Theheadmasterwouldlookopaquelyatmethroughflashingspectacles.Whatarewegoingtodowithyou?Well,whatweretheygoingtodowithme?Iwouldwrithemyshoesomemoreandstaredownatthewornrug.Lookup,boy!Can'tyoulookup?ThenIwouldlookatthecupboard,wherethenakedladywasfrozeninherpanicandthemusculargentlemancontemplatedthehindquartersoftheleopardinendlessgloom.Ihadnothingtosaytotheheadmaster.Hisspectaclescaughtthelightsothatyoucouldseenothinghumanbehindthem.Therewasnopossibilityofcommunication.Don'tyoueverthinkatall?No,Ididn'tthink,wasn'tthinking,couldn'tthink-Iwassimplywaitinginanguishfortheinterviewtostop.Thenyou'dbetterlearn-hadn'tyou?Ononeoccasiontheheadmasterleapedtohisfeet,reachedupandplonkedRodin'smasterpieceonthedeskbeforeme.That'swhatamanlookslikewhenhe'sreallythinking.Isurveyedthegentlemanwithoutinterestorcomprehension.Gobacktoyourclass.Clearlytherewassomethingmissinginme.Naturehadendowedtherestofthehumanracewithasixthsenseandleftmeout.Thismustbeso,Imused,onmywaybacktotheclass,sincewhetherIhadbrokenawindow,orfailedtorememberBoyle'sLaw,orbeenlateforschool,myteachersproducedmeone,adultanswer:Whycan'tyouthink?AsIsawthecase,IhadbrokenthewindowbecauseIhadtriedtohitJackArneywithacricketballandmissedhim;IcouldnotrememberBoyle'sLawbecauseIhadneverbotheredtolearnit;andIwaslateforschoolbecauseIpreferredlookingoverthebridgeintotheriver.Infact,Iwaswicked.Weremyteachers,perhaps,sogoodthattheycouldnotunderstandthedepthsofmydepravity?Weretheyclear,untormentedpeoplewhocoulddirecttheireveryactionbythismysteriousbusinessofthinking?Thewholethingwasincomprehensible.Inmyearlieryears,IfoundeventhestatuetteoftheThinkerconfusing.Ididnotbelieveanyofmyteacherswerenaked,ever.Likesomeoneborndeaf,butbitterlydeterminedtofindoutaboutsound,Iwatchedmyteacherstofindoutaboutthought.TherewasMr.Houghton.Hewasalwaystellingmetothink.Withamodestsatisfaction,hewouldtellthathehadthoughtabithimself.Thenwhydidhespendsomuchtimedrinking?Orwastheremoresenseindrinkingthanthereappearedtobe?Butifnot,andifdrinkingwereinfactruinoustohealth-andMr.Houghtonwasruined,therewasnodoubtaboutthat-whywashealwaystalkingaboutthecleanlifeandthevirtuesoffreshair?Hewouldspreadhisarmswidewiththeactionofamanwhohabituallyspenthistimestridingalongmountainridges.Openairdoesmegood,boys-Iknowit!Sometimes,exaltedbyhisownoratory,hewouldleapfromhisdeskandhustleusoutsideintoahideouswind.Now,boys!Deepbreaths!Feelitrightdowninsideyou-hugedraughtsofGod'sgoodair!Hewouldstandbeforeus,rejoicinginhisperfecthealth,anopen-airman.Hewouldputhishandsonhiswaistandtakeatremendousbreath.Youcouldhearthewindtrappedinthecavernofhischestandstrugglingwithalltheunnaturalimpediments.Hisbodywouldreelwithshockandhisruinedfacegowhiteattheunaccustomedvisitation.Hewouldstaggerbacktohisdeskandcollapsethere,uselessfortherestofthemorning.Mr.Houghtonwasgiventohigh-mindedmonologuesaboutthegoodlife,sexlessandfullofduty.Yetinthemiddleofoneofthesemonologues,ifagirlpassedthewindow,tappingalongonherneatlittlefeet,hewouldinterrupthisdiscourse,hisneckwouldturnofitselfandhewouldwatchheroutofsight.Inthisinstance,heseemedtomerulednotbythoughtbutbyaninvisibleandirresistiblespringinhisnape.Hisneckwasanobjectofgreatinteresttome.Normallyitbulgedabitover