Gloomy

Sunday, January 8th., Cadogan Square, London.

Enfeebled, gloomy. I wrote a lot more of my story, and then supplanted the cook in Dorothy's audience chamber, and arranged to go for a walk with her at noon. Part of Grosvenor Road, the interesting part near the Tate Gallery, was barricaded. Crowds of gazers. We went on to Vauxhall Bridge. Nothing to be seen anywhere except mud on the footpath of Grosvenor Road, and the damp interior of the Riviera Club, which had been flooded out. Only a couple of days ago my barber was telling me how he had been to watch skate-waltzing on the rink at Grosvenor Road.

It is reported that at least a dozen people have been killed in the floods and many thousands made homeless. Part of Chelsea embankment has collapsed. Apparently it is all to do with a great volume of water coming downriver, coinciding with a particularly high tide. The reason for all the downstream water is the melting of the recent heavy snow plus torrential rain inland near the source of the Thames. Just goes to show how quickly things can change and how fragile really is our tenure of the planet. We think we are all-powerful but in the face of the might of nature we are simply children. I hope something will be done at least about Thames flood defences but how would we protect a whole coastline if the waters rose?

I have finished reading "The Optimists" by Andrew Miller. Very powerful book which will stay with me for some time. Essentially the story, such as it is, is about a photographer who witnesses the aftermath of an atrocity in Africa. He suffers a breakdown in consequence, trying to come to terms with what he has witnessed. How should he respond? Revenge? Reporting? Suicide? Forgetting? And in his groping after some sort of response he is brought to realise that guilt is universal, that nobody is innocent, that we are all complicit if not actually evil ourselves. Not a cheery tale, but something that needs saying. The writing is uneven but  relentless, and no satisfactory conclusion is offered, which is as it should be for such a subject. There is just the glimmer of light at the end but knowing what we know about the central character it seems unlikely that he will be guided by it. Why the title? I haven't been able to make sense of that so far; surely not simply ironic? I expect to have this on my mind for some time to come.