The Weight of the Evidence by Michael Innes Read Free Book Online Page B

move abruptly across the room as if in search of something. But the sunbeam was now high overhead and inaccessible, so he had to content himself with simply sitting down again at his desk. ‘You mistake me,’ he said patiently. ‘What iss mysterious iss that he should choose that way.’
    ‘Ah.’ Appleby nodded understandingly. ‘It does take some explaining, sir.’
    ‘And yet I think I haf an idea.’ Sir David looked with penetration at his visitors, as if sizing up their ability to do Advanced Work. ‘You haf heard of the Oedipus Complex?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And of the Electra Complex?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And of the Sisyphus Complex?’
    This time Appleby shook his head. ‘I don’t think I have.’
    ‘Good!’ Sir David was delighted. ‘That is very good. Up to now there has not peen such a thing, look you. I haf just discovered it. Pluckrose suffered from the Sisyphus Complex.’
    Hobhouse groaned. This, on top of Galileo and the Law of Falling Bodies, was too much. Forgetful of the respect ever due to the upper classes, Hobhouse was suddenly aggressive. ‘And how could Pluckrose have suffered from something you’ve just invented? It doesn’t make sense.’
    For a moment benevolence removed itself from the features of Sir David Evans and severity held sway instead. And then again he smiled, pardoning not only impertinence but bad logic as well. ‘I haf distinguished the condition and given it a name. Surely you haf heard of Sisyphus?’
    Appleby decided that this exercise might as well be his. ‘Sisyphus was an avaricious king who was punished in the lower world, where he had to roll uphill a huge stone which kept on tumbling down again.’
    ‘Exactly! The stone was beyond Sisyphus’ weight. It was something he worked away at, but which he had not the necessary power to cope with. So it iss with the professors who do work too hard for them and haf preakdowns. They pecome conscious of their impotence and develop the Sisyphus Complex.’ Sir David was evidently highly pleased. ‘And so it was with Pluckrose, to be sure.’
    Appleby stared at him. ‘But you can hardly mean–?’
    The Vice-Chancellor raised a finger. ‘Things to remember about myths,’ he said.
    Hobhouse put his notebook in his pocket. Sir David ignored this act of insubordination.
    ‘Efery man has his myth, mark you. Long ago the myths provided opjective equivalents’ – Sir David paused and considerately repeated this hard phrase – ‘provided opjective equivalents of efery possible human situation. Sooner or later efery educated man discovers his own myth. Pluckrose discovered that his myth was that of Sisyphus. Never would he get the stone to the top of the hill. Always – crash! – it would fall pack again. Pluckrose was haunted by the myth and then there was a preakdown and he proke up. In his death he concretized the myth which now opsessed him. Up he went with his great stone. And down it came and crushed him.’ Sir David Evans, delivering himself of this remarkable psychological analysis with great power and conviction, almost deliquesced in kindly feeling. He bore the late Pluckrose no grudge on account of the quaint absurdity of his proceedings.
    ‘But,’ said Appleby, ‘Sisyphus wasn’t crushed. He just had to go on trying.’
    ‘Nefer mind, nefer mind! It is near enough. Here always is the great stone hanging over him, threatening destruction. It iss in his dreams, consider you. Always the great weight, ready to come crashing down. And always–’
    ‘Do you mean he arranged it?’ Hobhouse was bewildered and shocked to the point of positive interruption. ‘Do you mean that he arranged for this meteorite to come tumbling down and then went and sat under it?’
    ‘Always Sisyphus is in his dreams. The great stone is there in his dreams, and in his waking dreams. It pecomes a muscular fact, pressing on him. He walks with his shoulders pent. Any mass – a puilding, a pus – terrifies him. The timing haunts