The Little World

And how many scale modellers do, either.

The person who sits, day after day, completing tank tracks, or gluing branches on tiny pine trees, or copper plating the bottom of a wooden vessel will probably not say that they are having a whale of a time…unless the model ship is the PEAQUOD, and in that case you can call me Ishmael. The fact is they are working toward an end and sometimes they cannot see it approach too soon.

They are fatigued and bored and in pain – just as the marathon runner may be. And worse – they face the same danger that the runner does: when the entire task is finished there will be no reward for it.

The runner may save Greece or win a gold medal or at least have the satisfaction of dropping dead. The modeller gets a finished object that no-one else cares about but must be stored or displayed at their own expense. The best models break and the worst ones stay intact, but they both collect dust and murderous glances from the spouse.

You must love the building and the running, because the finish line awards no prize.