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Doris Lessing (1919-)
Doris Lessing is a British writer, born in Persia. In 1924 her family moved to
Rhodesia to farm there. She began to write while living in Rhodesia but did not become a
professional author until after moving to Britain in 1949. Many of her novels and stories
are based on her experience of Southern Africa and its racial problems. One of the best
known is `TheGrass is Singing' (1950). She is also interested in exploring relationships
between men and women and the life of independent women in contemporary western
society. Her novels also include `The Golden Notebook' (1962), the `Children of Violence'
series (1952-69), `Briefing for a Descent into hell' (1971) and `The Summer Before the
Dark' (1973). She has written a number of short stories whichappear in the following
collections: `Five' (1953), `African Stories' (1964), `The Story of a Non-Marrying Man'
(1972) and `The Habit of Loving' (1957), from which `Through the Tunnel' is taken.

The story
Jerry is on holiday abroad with his widowed mother. He meets a group of local
youths, older than himself. lie becomes obsessed with the need to be more like them and
his desire takes theform of a trial of endurance - swimming through an underwater tunnel.
The tunnel is long and dangerous; if he fails he will certainly drown.

Through the Tunnel
Going to the shore on the first morning of the holiday, the young English boy
stopped at a turning of the path and looked down at a wild and rocky bay,* and then over
to the crowded beach he knew so well from other years. 13is motherwalked on in front of
him, carrying a bright-striped bag in one hand. 1-Ier other arm, swinging loose, was very
white in the sun. The boy watched that white, naked arm, and turned his eyes, which had a
frown behind them, toward the bay and back again to his mother. When she felt he was not
with her, she swung around. `Oh, there you are, Jerry!' she said. She looked impatient, then
smiled. `Why,darling, would you rather not come with me? Would you rather-' She
frowned, conscientiously worrying over what amusements he might secretly be longing for
which she had been too busy or too careless to imagine. He was very familiar with that
anxious, apologetic smile. Contrition* sent him running after her. And yet, as he ran, he
looked back over his shoulder at the wild hay; and all morning,as he played on the safe
beach, he was thinking of it.
Next morning, when it was time for the routine of swimming and sunbathing, his
mother said, `Are you tired of the usual beach, Jerry? Would you like to go somewhere
else?'
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`Oh, no!' he said quickly, smiling at her out of that unfailing impulse of contrition*
- a sort of chivalry. Yet, walking down the path with her, heblurted out, `1 'd like to go and
have a look at those rocks down there.'
She gave the idea her attention. It was a wild-looking place, and there was no one
there, but she said, `of course, Jerry. When you've had enough come to the big beach. Or
just go straight back to the villa, if you like.' She walked away, that bare arm, now slightly
reddened from yesterday's sun, swinging. And he almostran after her again, feeling it
unbearable that she should go by herself, but he did not.
She was thinking, Of course he's old enough to be safe without me. Have I been
keeping him too close? He mustn't feel he ought to be with me. 1 must be careful. He was
an only child, eleven years old. She was a widow. She was determined to be neither
possessive nor lacking in devotion.* She went worryingoff to her beach.
As for jerry, once he saw that his mother had gained her beach, he began the steep
descent to the bay. From where he was, high up among red-brown rocks, it was a scoop of
moving bluish green fringed with white. As he went lower, he saw that it spread among
small promontories and inlets* of rough, sharp rock, and the crisping, lapping surface
showed stains of purple and...