An Emptied Shelf

It can be soul-shattering to have to sell your life’s passion in exchange for your life. I have never had to commit such a difficult trade, but I am sure that if I would have, then my gained life would be hollow and without meaning, much like Bois’s was after he had to sell his books in order to sustain his family. He didn’t precisely have to sell his passion as a whole, because his knowledge still remained with him, something priceless and unsellable. Nevertheless, Bois’s obligation did hurt him deeply and gave him a sense of defeat. I have seen cases of people who transform, or sell their personalities to be able to fit in. Their desire is so great, that they believe acceptance simply costs a personality. This is a greatly overpriced act of desperation which only leads to regret. The murder of Bois’s “darling” can be witnessed in the paragraph which states that “not so much imagination is needed to envisage the terrible scene in the Boxworth parsonage, the anger and resentment on both sides, the books being loaded into a cart to be taken back to the Cambridge booksellers, the dusty nothing left in the vacated shelves, the atmosphere in the house of failure and betrayal.” Pg. 206 Upon tossing your personality, all that is left is a dusty outline on an empty shelf.