While I appreciated the intention of "The Burning Servant," this one was much more my style. I thought it was rather brilliant. I agree that the horror didn't really come from impending death, but I'm not sure it came from a wasted life, either. After all, writing books isn't an inherently useless activity. I think the (admittedly very subtle) horror came from the protagonist's relentless self-obsession. He never seemed to actually regret his life, because I think he was too prideful for that. His life may have been severely limited by his dedication to academic scholarship, but I don't think he ever realized it.
More than anything, this reminded me of an Edward Gorey drawing. Some wan individual obsessed with books wanders out into the world and gets what's coming to him. I loved the descriptions of the cliffs as bookcases; even when he went out into nature, he couldn't stop seeing everything as academic. This was especially apparent when he started to compose his answer to a future questionnaire before knowing whether or not he would actually survive.
The words he scribbled down at the end were confusing in the audio format (I don't think they would have been in print). Did he write, "Myself: I have come to the conclusion." meaning that he had finally found it appropriate to quote himself, and that he had come to the conclusion of his life? Did he write, "Myself: I have come to the conclusion..." meaning that he meant to or did write more, but we aren't privy to what it was or would have been? Or did he write, "Myself, I have come to the conclusion." meaning that he had come to the conclusion that a cormorant is no different from himself?
The reason I thought it might be the last one is that the story said he wrote it as the entry for "cormorant" in his notebook, suggesting that he had decided to define the bird as “myself.” The irony, of course, would be that even in making this existential revelation, he’s completely self-focused. The horror is that even when we see ourselves as connected with other living things, we still can’t escape our own egos.
More like this one, please.