The Autobiography of an Idea by Louis H. Sullivan

Author:Louis H. Sullivan
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9780486141831
Publisher: Dover Publications
Published: 2012-10-12T16:00:00+00:00

Meanwhile a cloud no bigger than a man’s hand arose into the clear blue above the horizon of Henri List’s placid life. Early in 1871 Anna List, his wife, his prop, his anchor, his life’s mainstay, was taken with her first and last illness. Louis was forbidden her room. All was quiet; furtive comings and goings; whispered anxious words. The cloud arose, darkened the world and passed on. One morning, it was told that he, Louis, might see her. He went directly to her room, opened the door, and entered. The white shades were down and all was light within. On the bed he saw extended an object fully covered by a sheet. He advanced, drew aside the sheet, rashly pressed his lips upon the cold forehead, drew back as though stung.

Standing erect he gazed steadfastly down upon rigid features that seemed of unearthly ivory.

Grandmamma had vanished!

What signified this cold menace he now scanned? This stranger in the house—whence Grandmamma had gone forever?

What meant this effigy, this ivory simulacrum that had come here in her stead?

It could not see, it could not hear, it could not feel, it could not move, it could not speak, it could not love!

Grandmamma had vanished !

She had passed on with a great cloud that had cast its shadow.

And here, now before him lay a counterfeit, where once she was.

An object, a nothing, a something and a nothing, which Louis could not think or name; an ivory mask which repelled, which instantly he rejected, as a ghastly intrusion.

And they had said that he would see his Grandmamma !

Ah! then, was this petrified illusion his Grandmamma?

They lied I

His true Grandmamma was in his heart and would remain there till his own end should come. Whatever this object before him might be, it was not Gran’ma !

His Grandmamma had vanished !

He replaced the shroud. Dry-eyed, and as one filled with a cold light, he left the room.

Never before had Louis seen what Death, the cloud no bigger than a man’s hand, leaves behind it as it passes overhead and vanishes.

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