a category of the exceptional
Unexpectedly Ellena said, “His life has been a chain of unfortunate circumstances. He has always been poor. He couldn’t even manage to get a position as a clerk, although he is very gifted. He didn’t lack opportunities to prove himself; he demanded certain duties and was given them. But they always ended unfortunately for him. Not that he didn’t succeed or that he disappointed his employers. But their satisfaction with him brought him no reward. They never chose to give him the recognition he deserved. The work he was given to do was either unseemly for one so young, and one of his superiors felt afterwards that he had to take all the responsibility, or the undertaking was so difficult that nobody was interested in its success but expected only that it would fail. If it turned out to be the other way around, they were perplexed rather than grateful. Anyway, the relief that came as a consequence was aimed solely at the fact that the whole thing was over and done with, and the efforts of the man who had done the job were forgotten because nobody even wanted them aired. And this ingratitude or failure—whatever you want to call it—increased the demands George Lauffer made of himself. It drove him to outdo himself every time. And that is why he was always asked to do the extraordinary. You might almost say that a category of the exceptional was invented for him. They never took into consideration whether a thing was easy or difficult to do, whether it was dangerous or not. Everybody thought of George Lauffer when others were unwilling to take the risk. And so he slowly got the reputation of a free-lancer who carried out secret missions, an enemy of all those whom he could not enlighten. Now he is always prepared for the worst. He is bitter, he fears his fellow men. He wants to get the better of them, at any rate to the extent that they leave him alone. Everybody is a temptation to him to reveal something of himself, and when he remains adamant, they are suspicious of him. And it is quite possible that he lies less than most people; he is only more silent. And he had made his face merciless because he needs a disguise, since he hasn’t any faith in a gun.”
- from The Ship (Hans Henny Jahnn)