≉ูグ஦ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈ࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࡢ⤖ᮎ࡜ࠗࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖ኵே࠘ୗ‫ە‬బࠎᮌ ᚭSasaki Toruඛ࡟ࠊ࢔࣭ࣥࢧࢵ࢝ࣞ࢖࣭ࣜࢵࢳ࣮ࡢⓎゝࢆᘬ࠸ࡓᚋ࡛ࠊ䛄 ࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࡣࣉࣟࢵࢺࡢ࡞࠸ᑠㄝࡢࡼ࠺࡞ࡶࡢࡔ࡜㏙࡭ࡓࠋఏ⤫ⓗ࡞≀ㄒᛶࢆ᤼㝖ࡋࡓᮏ᭩ࡢᙧᘧ࡟ࡘ࠸࡚ࠊࢪ࣮ࣙࢪ࣭ࣛࣥࢻ࢘ࡣࠊࢸࢽࢯࣥࡀ㛤ᣅࡋࡓࠕ࠸ࡃࡘ࠿ࡢࢡࣛ࢖࣐ࢵࢡࢫⓗ▐㛫ࢆ୪⨨ࡋࠊࡑࢀࢆ」㞧࡟⤌ࡳྜࢃࡏࡿࠖᵓ㐀ࢆࠊࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡣࡼࡾ⦆ࡸ࠿࡞ᙧ࡛㋃くࡋ࡚࠸ࡿ࡜ㄽࡌࠊࡇࡢᵓ㐀ࡣࣔࢲࢽࢬ࣒ࡢᑠㄝᐙࡀཷࡅ⥅࠸࡛࠸ࡃࡇ࡜࡟࡞ࡿ࡜㏙࡭࡚࠸ࡿࠋ

Tennyson . . . developed a poetic form in In Memoriamand The Idylls of the King . . . relying . . . upon complex
interweaving of juxtaposed climactic moments, visions, anddreams. In doing so, this supposedly conservative poet
managed to create the kind of narrative mode for which
Conrad, Faulkner, and Woolf generally receive credit inhistories of the novel. Praeterita, which had such a majorinfluence on Proust, relies upon a similar, if more diffuse,
21 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈21narrative mode. 84ࢥࣥࣛࢵࢻࠊࣇ࢛࣮ࢡࢼ࣮ࠊ࢘ࣝࣇࢆࡇࡢ⥺୍࡛ࡃࡃࡾ࡟ࡍࡿࡢࡣ࠿࡞ࡾ஘ᭀ࡞Ẽࡀࡍࡿࡀࠊࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࡀ࠸ࢃࡺࡿఏ⤫ⓗࣉࣟࢵࢺࢆḞ࠸ࡓࣔࢲࢽࢬ࣒ᑠㄝࢆ㐃᝿ࡉࡏࡿࠊ࡜࠸࠺Ẽᣢࡕࡣࡼࡃศ࠿ࡿࠋ࡜ࡇࢁࡀࠊࡇࡇ࡟ࡶྡ๓ࡀฟ࡚ࡃࡿࣉ࣮ࣝࢫࢺ࡜ࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘࡟ࡘ࠸࡚ࡢㄽ⪃ࡣ⤖ᵓ࠶ࡿࡶࡢࡢ㏆ᖺ࡛ࡣࢥ࢖ࣝࠊ࣑ࣝࣂࣥࢡ࡞࡝ ࠊࡇࡢ⮬ఏ࡜ⱥᅜࣔࢲࢽࢬ࣒ᑠㄝ࡜ࡢ㛵ಀ࡟ࡘ࠸࡚⪃ᐹࡋࡓㄽᩥࡣㄪ࡭࡚ࡶ࡞࠿࡞࠿ฟ࡚ࡇ࡞࠸ࠋ࡞ࡽࡤࠊࡑࡢ㛫㝽ࢆᇙࡵࡼ࠺࡜ࡍࡿࡢࡣỴࡋ࡚↓㥏࡞ດຊ࡛ࡣ࠶ࡿࡲ࠸ࠋ௨ୗࡣࡑࡢࡲࡇ࡜࡟ࡉࡉࡸ࠿࡞ヨࡳ࡛࠶ࡿࠋ
ࢪࣜ࢔࣭ࣥࣅ࢔ࡣࠊ࢘ࣝࣇ࡜ࣦ࢕ࢡࢺࣜ࢔ᮅᩥᏛࡢ㛵㐃࡟ࡘ࠸࡚⪃ᐹࡋࡓㄽᩥࡢ୰࡛ࠊ࢘ࣝࣇࡀࣛࢫ࢟ࣥ࡟ඹឤࡋࡓ࡛࠶ࢁ࠺Ⅼ࡜ࡋ࡚ࠊ᫬ࡢᶒຊ࡟ᑐࡍࡿ཯ᢠ⢭⚄ࡸࠊ⮬ᕫ▩┪ࡀከ࠸ࡇ࡜࡞࡝ࢆᣦ᦬ࡋࡓᚋࠊḟࡢࡼ࠺࡟㏙࡭࡚࠸ࡿࠋ

But another reason for her responsiveness to Ruskin is hiscountervailing immersion in the specific: his joyous zeal
in particularizing gives life to his writing in the modernist
era, particularly to Virginia Woolf in her search for the‘moment’, both evanescent and fully known. 146Ꮡᅾࡍࡿࠋࡔࡀࠊᮏㄽ࡛ࡣࡇࢀࡲ࡛㢳ࡳࡽࢀࡿࡇ࡜ࡢ࡞࠿ࡗࡓࠊࠗࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖ኵே࠘࡜ࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࢆ⤖ࡪ⥺࡟ࡘ࠸࡚⪃࠼࡚ࡳࡓ࠸ࠋ⯆࿡῝࠸ࡇ࡜࡟ࠊ࢘ࣝࣇࡣࠕࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࠖ࡜㢟ࡉࢀࡓ࢚ࢵࢭ࢖ࡢ୰࡛ ࠊࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࡢ㣭ࡽ࡞࠸ᩥయࡢࡼࡉࢆㄝࡁࠊṦ࡟⤖ᮎࡢ⨾ࡋࡉࢆᙉㄪࡋ࡚࠸ࡿࠋ

Compared with much of his writing, it is extremely simple
in style; but the simplicity is the flower of perfect skill. Thewords lie like a transparent veil upon his meaning. And thepassage with which the book ends, though it was written
when he could hardly write, is surely more beautiful thanthose more elaborate and gilded ones which we are apt to
cut out and admire. 462
ࡲࡓ࢘ࣝࣇࡣࠕࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡀே⏕ࢆ᣺ࡾ㏉ࡿࠖ࡜㢟ࡍࡿ࢚ࢵࢭ࢖࡟࠾࠸࡚ࡶࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࡢ⤖ᮎ࡟ゐࢀࠊḟࡢࡼ࠺࡟㏙࡭࡚࠸ࡿࠋ. . . and serenely as the pages run, they resound with theechoes of thunder and are lit with the reflections oflightning. For the old man who sits now babbling of hispast, was a prophet once and had suffered greatly. 505

ࡘࡲࡾࠊ▐㛫ࡢ⨾Ꮫ࡜࡛ࡶ࿧ࡪ࡭ࡁࡶࡢࢆࡇࡢ஧ேࡢసᐙࡀ
ඹ᭷ࡋ࡚࠸ࡿ࡜࠸࠺୺ᙇ࡛࠶ࡿࠋࡇࢀࡣᮏㄽ࡛᪤࡟ぢ࡚ࡁࡓࡇ࡜ࡀࡽ࡜ࡢ㛵㐃ୖࠊ㔜せ࡞୍Ⅼ࡛࠶ࡿࠋࣅ࢔ࡣ࣮ࠗ࢜ࣛࣥࢻ
࣮࠘࡜ࠗ㏆௦⏬ᐙㄽ࠘ࢆẚ㍑᳨ウࡋ࡚࠾ࡾࠊࡇࡢ௚࡟ࡶࠊࠗ࢜
࣮ࣛࣥࢻ࣮࠘࡜ࣛࢫ࢟ࣥ࡟ࡘ࠸࡚⪃ᐹࡋࡓ◊✲ㄽᩥࡣ࠸ࡃࡘ࠿

ࡇࡢ⮬ఏࡢᮎᑿࡢ⨾ࡋ࠸㟼ㅧࡀ⬤࠸ࡶࡢ࡛ࠊ㞾㬆࡜✄ጔࡀ㏆࡙ࡃ≬Ẽࢆ࡯ࡢࡵ࠿ࡋ࡚࠸ࡿࡇ࡜࡟࢘ࣝࣇࡣẼ࡙࠸࡚࠸ࡿࠋᙼዪࡀࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘࡟㨩࠿ࢀࡿࡢࡣᩥᏛ⪅࡜ࡋ࡚ࡢࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡢឤཷᛶ࡟ඹឤࡍࡿ࠿ࡽ࡛࠶ࢁ࠺ࡀࠊ≉࡟ࡇࡢసရࡢ⤖ᮎ࡟ᑐࡋ࡚ぢࡏࡿ⯆࿡࡟↔Ⅼࢆ⤠ࡗ࡚⪃࠼ࡿ࡜ࠊࡑࢀࡣࠗࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖

22 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012

23 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈

22ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈23፬ே࠘࡟Ⓩሙࡍࡿࠊࢩ࢙ࣝࢩࣙࢵࢡࡢ࠾࠿ࡆ࡛ዶ᝿࡟ࡉ࠸࡞ࡲ
ࢀࡿࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫ࣭ࢫ࣑ࢫ࡜࠸࠺ே≀ࡢ๰㐀࡟㏻ࡌࡿࡢ࡛ࡣ࡞
࠸࠿࡜࠸࠺Ẽࡀࡋ࡚ࡃࡿࠋࡑࡇ࡛ࠊࡇࡢ௬ㄝࢆ᳨ドࡍࡿࡓࡵ࡟ࠊ௨ୗࣛࢫ࢟ࣥ࡜࢘ࣝࣇࡢ஧ࡘࡢࢸࢡࢫࢺࢆㄞࡳẚ࡭࡚ࡳࡓ࠸ࠋࡲࡎࠊ
ࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘᭱ᚋࡢẁⴠࢆ෌ᗘᘬ⏝ࡍࡿࠋHow things bind and blend themselves together ! The lasttime I saw the Fountain of Trevi, it was from Arthur’sfather’s room ̿ Joseph Severn’s, where we both took Joanie
to see him in 1872, and the old man made a sweet drawingof his pretty daughter-in-law, now in her schoolroom; hehimself then eager in finishing his last picture of theMarriage in Cana, which he had caused to take place undera vine trellis, and delighted himself by painting the crystal
and ruby glittering of the changing rivulet of water out of
the Greek vase, glowing into wine. Fonte Branda I last
saw with Charles Norton, under the same arches whereDante saw it. We drank of it together, and walked together
that evening on the hills above, where the fireflies among
the scented thickets shone fitfully in the still undarkened
air. How they shone ! moving like fine-broken starlightthrough the purple leaves. How they shone ! through thesunset that faded into thunderous night as I entered Siena
three days before, the white edges of the mountainous
clouds still lighted from the west, and the openly golden sky
calm behind the Gate of Siena’s heart, with its still goldenwords, “Cor magis tibi Sena pandit,” and the fireflies
everywhere in sky and cloud rising and falling, mixed withthe lightning, and more intense than the stars.
24 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈24⥆࠸࡚ ࠊࠗࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖ኵே࠘࠿ࡽࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢዶ᝿ࢆᥥ࠸ࡓ⟠ᡤࢆᘬࡃࠋ

A marvellous discovery indeed ̿ that the human voice incertain atmospheric conditions for one must be scientific,
above all scientific can quicken trees into life ! Happily
Rezia put her hand with a tremendous weight on his kneeso that he was weighted down, transfixed, or the excitementof the elm trees rising and falling, rising and falling with all
their leaves alight and the colour thinning and thickening
from blue to the green of a hollow wave, like plumes onhorses’ heads, feathers on ladies’, so proudly they rose andfell, so superbly, would have sent him mad. But he would
not go mad. He would shut his eyes; he would see no more.
But they beckoned; leaves were alive; trees were alive.
And the leaves being connected by millions of fibres withhis own body, there on the seat, fanned it up and down;when the branch stretched he, too, made that statement. The
sparrows fluttering, rising, and falling in jagged fountains
were part of the pattern; the white and blue, barred withblack branches. 3233ࡲࡎࠊ඲యࡢࠕព㆑ࡢὶࢀࠖⓗ࡞༳㇟ࡸ⧞㏉ࡋࢆຠᯝⓗ࡟⏝࠸ࡓᩥࡢࣜࢬ࣒࡟ຍ࠼࡚ࠊfountain ࡜ rising and falling ࡀ஧ࡘࡢᘬ⏝࡟ඹ㏻ࡍࡿせ⣲࡜ࡋ࡚┠ࢆᘬࡃࠋࡇࢀࢆᛕ㢌࡟⨨࠸࡚ࠊࡶ࠺୍⟠ᡤࠊࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢᚰ⌮ࢆᥥ࠸ࡓሙ㠃ࢆぢ࡚ࡳࡿࠋ

Up in the sky swallows swooping, swerving, flinging themselves
25 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012

ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈

25

in and out, round and round, yet always with perfectcontrol as if elastics held them; and the flies rising andfalling; and the sun spotting now this leaf, now that, inmockery, dazzling it with soft gold in pure good temper;and now and again some chime it might be a motor horntinkling divinely on the grass stalks ̿ all of this, calm andreasonable as it was, made out of ordinary things as it was,
was the truth now; beauty, that was the truth now. Beautywas everywhere. MD, 10405䛂⨾ࡣ┿ᐇ࡛࠶ࡾࠊ⨾ࡣ࠸ࡓࡿ࡜ࡇࢁ࡟࠶ࡿࠖ࡜ࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐
ࢫ࡟ゝࢃࡏࡿ᫬ࠊ࢘ࣝࣇࡣ࣮࢟ࢶࡼࡾࡶࡴࡋࢁࠊ⨾ࡢㄝᩍᖌࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࢆᛕ㢌࡟࠾࠸࡚࠸ࡓࡢ࡛ࡣ࡞࠿ࢁ࠺࠿ࠋࡇࡇ࡛ࡣ flies
rising and falling ࡜࠶ࡾࠊඛࡢᘬ⏝㒊ࡼࡾ୍ᒙࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘࡟㏆࡙࠸ࡓほࡀ࠶ࡿࠋࡇࡢ flies ࡀཝᐦ࡟࡝ࢇ࡞᪻⹸ࢆᣦࡋ♧ࡍࡢ࠿ࡼࡃศ࠿ࡽ࡞࠸ࡀࠊ flies ࡣ㣕ࡪ⹸ࡢ⥲⛠࡛ࡶ࠶ࡿ࠿ࡽࠊ⼚࠿ࡶࡋࢀ࡞࠸ࡋࠊ⼖࠿ࡶࡋࢀ࡞࠸ࠋ࠸ࡎࢀ࡟ࡏࡼࠊ᫬
㛫ࡶ᫨๓ࡢࡇ࡜࡛࠶ࡾࠊ⏕≀ᏛⓗほⅬ࠿ࡽࡍࢀࡤࠊ⺯࡜࠸࠺ྍ⬟ᛶࡣࡲࡎ࠶ࡿࡲ࠸ࠋࡋ࠿ࡋࠊᩥᏛⓗほⅬ࠿ࡽࠊࡇࡢ flies ࢆࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡢ fireflies ࡢ⏕ࡲࢀኚࢃࡾ࡜⪃࠼ࡿవᆅࡣ࡞࠸ࡔࢁ࠺
࠿ࠋ
ࡑࡢⓎ᝿ࡢ᰿ᣐࢆ⿵ᙉࡍࡿࡓࡵ࡟ࠊࡉࡽ࡟ḟࡢࣃࢵࢭ࣮ࢪࢆ
ぢ࡚ࡳࡼ࠺ࠋ

Traffic accumulated. And there the motor car stood, withdrawn blinds, and upon them a curious pattern like a tree,
Septimus thought, and this gradual drawing together ofeverything to one centre before his eyes, as if some horror
26 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈26

had come almost to the surface and was about to burst intoflames, terrified him. MD, 21
ࡇࡇࡢ drawing together of everything ࡜࠸࠺ឤぬࡣࠗࣉࣛ ࢚ ࢸ ࣜ ࢱ ࠘ ᭱ ⤊ ẁ ࡢ ᭩ ࡁ ฟ ࡋ ࠊ things bind and blend
themselves together ࢆ᝿㉳ࡉࡏࡿࠋࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡢࡇࡢ⾲⌧࡟ࡘ࠸࡚ࡣࠊ௨ୗ࡟ᘬࡃࡼ࠺࡟ࠊ࢔ࣟ࢘ࢫ࣑ࢫࡢ⯆࿡῝࠸ᣦ᦬ࡀ࠶
ࡿࠋThe intricacy of binding here, whether these concinnities
are deliberate or the work of ‘dream-gifted’ association ina mind nearing madness, is close to miraculous. Ruskin’sthings ‘How things bind and blend . . . ’ suggests that
here things ̿ active memories ̿ are in control; thatthe narrator’s mind is merely a chain on which thesememories thread themselves and collect, imposing their own
apparently adventitious unity on the musing mind whose
past they casually glean. 208
ே㛫ࡢㄆ㆑ࢆࢥࣥࢺ࣮ࣟࣝࡍࡿࡢࡀே㛫⮬㌟࡛ࡣ࡞ࡃࠊࡲࢃ
ࡾࡢࡶࡢࡔ࡜࠸࠺ ࡶࡋ࠿ࡋࡓࡽ㏆࡙ࡃ≬Ẽࢆ♧၀ࡍࡿࡢ࠿ࡶ
ࡋࢀ࡞࠸ ឤぬࡣࠊࡲࡉ࡟ࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢࡑࢀ࡟㔜࡞ࡿࡶࡢ࡛
࠶ࡿࠋࡉ ࡽ ࡟ ࡇ ࡇ ࡛ ࢔ ࣟ ࢘ ࢫ ࣑ ࢫ 220㸬㸬㸬ࡢᣦ᦬ࡍࡿࠊࢲࣥࢸࡢ
䛄ᆅ⊹⠍࠘࡟࠾ࡅࡿࠊ⅖࡟ໟࡲࢀ࡚⇞࠼ࡿ⨥ேࢆ⾲ࡍ⺯ࢆᛮ࠸ฟࡑ࠺ࠋࡇࢀࢆ⪃៖࡟ධࢀࢀࡤ
ࠊࠕࡍ࡭࡚ࡀ୍Ⅼ࡟ᐤࡾ㞟ࡲࡗ㸬㸬㸬࡚ࡁ࡚⇞࠼ࡿࠖ࡜࠸࠺ࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫ࡜ࡢぶ㏆ᛶࡣࡲࡍࡲࡍᙉࡃ
࡞ࡿࠋࡁࢃࡵ࡚⯆࿡῝࠸ࡇ࡜࡟ࠊࡇࡢே≀ࡣࣟࣥࢻ࡛ࣥࠗᆅ
27 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈27⊹⠍࠘ࢆㄞࢇ࡛࠸ࡿࡢ࡛࠶ࡿ “Septimus, do put down yourbook,” said Rezia, gently shutting the Inferno; 133 ࠋࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢࡳ࡞ࡽࡎࠊࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖ኵேࢆᥥࡃሙ㠃࡟ࡶ䛄ࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࢆᛮ࠸ฟࡉࡏࡿ࡜ࡇࢁࡀ࠶ࡿࠋᑠㄝࡢጞࡲࡾ
㏆ࡃࠊࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢព㆑࡟ヰࡀ⛣ࡿ┤๓ࠊࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖ኵேࡣⰼᒇࢆゼࢀࡿࠋ

And then, opening her eyes, how fresh like frilled linen
clean from a laundry laid in wicker trays the roses looked;
and dark and prim the red carnations, holding their heads
up; and all the sweet peas spreading in their bowls, tinged
violet, snow white, pale ̿ as if it were the evening and girls
in muslin frocks came out to pick sweet peas and roses
after the superb summer’s day, with its almost blue-blacksky, its delphiniums, its carnations, its arum lilies was over;and it was the moment between six and seven when every
flower ̿ roses, carnations, irises, lilac ̿ glows; white,violet, red, deep orange; every flower seems to burn by
itself, softly, purely in the misty beds; and how she loved
the grey-white moths spinning in and out, over the cherrypie, over the evening primroses ! 18ࡇࡢࣃࢵࢭ࣮ࢪࡢᜥࡢ㛗࠸ᩥᵓ㐀ࡸࡑࡢࣜࢬ࣒ࡣ௒ࡲ࡛ࡢᘬ⏝௨ୖ࡟ࣛࢫ࢟ࣥⓗ࡛࠶ࡿࠋࡑࡋ࡚ࠊ
ࠕኤ㜌ࠖࢆ⫼ᬒ࡟ⰼࡀ䛂㍤ࡁ ࠖࠊ㟼࠿࡟ࠕ⇞࠼ࡿࠖࠊ࡜࠸࠺ࡢࡣࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࡢ⤖ᮎࡢ⺯࡟ࡲࡘࢃࡿ୺せ࡞せ⣲ࢆᛮ࠸㉳ࡇࡉࡏࡿ ࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡀ⺯࡟࡜ࡾࡘ࠿ࢀ࡚࠸ࡿࡼ࠺࡟ࠊ࢘ࣝࣇࡣ⻍࡟ࡇࡔࢃࡿ࠿ࡽࠊࡑࢀࡀࡇࡇ࡟Ⓩሙࡍࡿ࡜࠸࠺஦ᐇࡣࡇࡢࡃࡔࡾࡢࡦࡑ࠿࡞㔜せᛶࢆ28 Web ⱥㄒ㟷ᖺ June , 2012ㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈28ᬯ♧ࡋ࡚࠸ࡿ࠿ࡶࡋࢀ࡞࠸ ࠋࡇࡢሙ㠃࡟ぢࡽࢀࡿ㟼ᐢࡣࡍࡄᚋ࡟⥆ࡃࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢ≬Ẽ࡜⾲⿬୍యࢆ࡞ࡍࠋ࣮࣭ࣝ࣋ࣥࣈࣛ࢘࢔࣮ࢆࡣࡌࡵከࡃࡢ◊✲⪅ࡀᣦ᦬ࡍࡿࡼ࠺࡟ࠊࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡣࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖ኵேࡢศ㌟࡛࠶ࡾࠊ஧ேࡀࠗࢩࣥ࣋ࣜࣥ࠘ࡢ୍
⠇͆ Fear no more͇ࢆඹ᭷ࡍࡿ࡞࡝ࠊወጁ࡞ࢥ࣑ࣗࢽࢣ࣮ࢩ
ࣙࣥࢆ஺ࢃࡍࡇ࡜ࡣᑠㄝࡢ᰾ᚰࢆ࡞ࡋ࡚࠸ࡿࠋࡑࡢⅬ࡟ຍ࠼࡚ࠊᮏ✏᳨࡛ドࡋ࡚ࡁࡓᘬ⏝ࢆ㢌࡟ධࢀ࡚ୖࡢ⟠ᡤࢆㄞࡴ࡜ࠊࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡢࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸࣜࢱ࠘ࢆศ࠿ࡕྜ࠺࡜࠸࠺ᙧ࡛ࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘
࢖ኵே࡜ࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫࡢᚰࡀ㏻ࡌྜࡗ࡚࠸ࡿࡇ࡜࡟ᡃࠎࡣẼ࡙ࡃ࡛࠶ࢁ࠺ࠋ࢘ࣝࣇࡢࠕࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࠖ࡜࠸࠺࢚ࢵࢭ࢖ࡣᇳ➹᫬ᮇࡀ୙࡛᫂࠶
ࡿࡀࠊ᭱㏆ฟ∧ࡉࢀࡓ࣮࣍࢞ࢫ࣭ࣉࣞࢫࡢ㝶➹㞟ࡢ⦅⪅ࢫࢸࣗ࢔࣮ࢺ࣭ࢡ࣮ࣛࢡࡣࠊࡑࡢᩥయ࠿ࡽᚋᮇࡢసရࡔࢁ࠺࡜᥎ᐃࡋ࡚࠸ࡿࠋ୍᪉ࠊࠕࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡀே⏕ࢆ᣺ࡾ㏉ࡿࠖࡣ 1927 ᖺ 12 ᭶࡟Ⓨ⾲ࡉࢀࡓࡶࡢ࡛࠶ࡿࠋࡋࡓࡀࡗ࡚ࠊ࡝ࡕࡽࡶࠗࢲ࢙ࣟ࢘࢖
ኵே࠘ 1925 ࡼࡾᚋ࡟᭩࠿ࢀࡓ࡜⪃࠼ࡽࢀࡿࠋࡓࡔࠊ
ࠕࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡀே⏕ࢆ᣺ࡾ㏉ࡿࠖࡣࠗ㏆௦⏬ᐙㄽ࠘ࡢ⦰⣙∧ࡀฟࡓࡇ࡜ࢆ
ዎᶵ࡟᭩࠿ࢀࡓࡶࡢ࡛࠶ࡾ࡞ࡀࡽࠊࡇࡢసရࡼࡾࡶࠗࣉ࢚ࣛࢸ
ࣜࢱ࠘ࡢ᪉ࡀぶࡋࡳࡸࡍ࠸࡜ゝࡗ࡚ࠊᚋ⪅࡟ࡘ࠸࡚⁧ࠎ࡜㏙࡭
ࡿ࡜࠸࠺ෆᐜ࡛ࠊࡑࡇ࠿ࡽࡣᙼዪࡀࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࡢ⮬ఏࢆ᪤࡟⇍▱ࡋ࡚࠸ࡓࡇ࡜ࡀ┳ྲྀ࡛ࡁࡿࠋ
ࢡ࢙࢘ࣥࢸ࢕࣭ࣥ࣋ࣝࡢఏグ࡟ࡼࡿ࡜ࠊ࢘ࣝࣇࡢፉ᫬௦࡟ࡣ
∗ぶࡢࣞࢬ࣮࣭ࣜࢫࢸ࢕࣮ࣦࣥࡀᙼዪࡢㄞࡴᮏࢆ㑅ࢇ࡛࠸ࡓࡽࡋ࠸ 51 ࠋࡑࡢࢫࢸ࢕࣮ࣦࣥࡣࠊࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࢆ㏣᝚ࡍࡿ࢚ࢵ
ࢭ࢖ࡢ୰࡛ᙼࡢᥥ෗ຊࢆ⛠㈶ࡋࠊ࢔ࣝࣉࢫ࣭ࢡࣛࣈ Alpine
Club ࡢ఍㛗ࢆົࡵࡿ࡯࡝⇕ᚰ࡞Ⓩᒣᐙ࡛࠶ࡗࡓ⮬ศ⮬㌟ࡢᒣ
࡬ࡢ᝟⇕ࡣࠗ㏆௦⏬ᐙㄽ࠘ࡢ࢔ࣝࣉࢫࡢᥥ෗࡟㈇࠺࡜ࡇࢁࡀ኱
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ࡁ࠸࡜࿌ⓑࡋ࡚࠸ࡿ 242 ࠋࡑ࠺࠸࠺ᙼࡀፉ࡟ࣛࢫ࢟ࣥࢆ⸀ࡵ࡞࠿ࡗࡓ࡜ࡣ⪃࠼࡟ࡃ࠸ࠋ࢘ࣝࣇࡣ┦ᙜ᪩࠸᫬ᮇ࠿ࡽࣛࢫ࢟ࣥ࡟ぶࡋࢇ࡛࠸ࡓ࡟ࡕࡀ࠸࡞࠸ࠋࢭࣉࢸ࢕࣐ࢫ࡜࠸࠺ே≀ࡢ๰㐀࡟ࡣ࢘ࣝࣇ⮬㌟ࡢࣀ࢖࣮ࣟࢮ
ࡀᢞᙳࡉࢀ࡚࠸ࡿ࡜ࡼࡃゝࢃࢀࡿࡀࠊ൅ࡣࡑࡇ࡟ᙼዪࡢࣛࢫ࢟ࣥ࡟ࡲࡘࢃࡿㄞ᭩ࡢグ᠈ࡀ࠶ࡗࡓ࡜ክ᝿ࡋࡓ࠸ࡢ࡛࠶ࡿࠋ
ᮏ✏ࡣࠊ 2010 ᖺ 5 ᭶ 29 ᪥࡟⚄ᡞ኱Ꮫ࡛⾜ࢃࢀࡓ᪥ᮏⱥᩥᏛ఍➨ 82 ᅇ඲ᅜ኱఍ࡢࢩ࣏ࣥࢪ࣒࢘ ࠊࠕ Victoria ᮅࡢ⮬ఏࢆㄞࡴࠖ࡟࠾ࡅࡿⓎ⾲࡟ᇶ࡙ࡃࠋ䚾ཧ⪃ᩥ⊩ࠒ
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Stephen, Leslie. “John Ruskin”. The National Review 35
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