A Voyage to Arcturus

by David Lindsay

those strange, arch...

her lover was no other than Shap...

the design of this love was not the continuance of the race but the immortality on earth of the individual. No ch...

the lover aerself was the ete...

aer flesh presented something of the character of a crystal, having plane surfaces in place of curves. The body looked as if it had not been ground down by the sea of ages into smooth and rounded regularity but had sprung together in angles and facets as the result of a single, sudden idea.

With his racial prejudices, Maskull found little beauty in it,

the ...

essentials of beauty: character, intelligen...

"Nowadays there are men and women, but in the olden times the world was peopled by 'phaens.'

"Faceny?"

You and I are of different creations. A phaen's body contains the whole of life, a man's body contains only the half of life—the other half is in woman.

"But if life comes from Faceny, how can it die at all?" "Life is the thoughts of Faceny, and once these thoughts have left his brain

they are nothing—mere dying embers." "This is a cheerless philosophy," said Maskull. "But who is Faceny himself, then, and why does he think at all?"

Faceny is of this nature. He faces Nothingness in all directions. He has no back and no sides, but is all face; and this face is his shape. It must necessarily be so, for nothing else can exist between him and Nothingness. His fa...

draws his inspirations from it; in no other way could he feel himself. For the same reason, phaens and even men love to be in empty places and vast so...

A draught of thought thus continuously flows from Nothingness to the inside of Faceny, which is the world.

The thoughts become shapes,

and people the world. This outer world, therefore, which is lying all around us, is not outside at all, as it happens, but inside. The visible universe is like a gigantic stomach, and ...

"What does he grant to me?" "To see him, and go on living. I shall die. But it's immaterial. Tomorrow both of us will be dead." Maskull impatiently shook himself free. "Your sensations may be reliable in your own case, but how do you know I shall die?" "Life is flaming up inside you," replied Leehallfae, shaking aer head. "But after it has reached its climax—perhaps tonight—it will sink

rapidly and you'll die tomorrow. As for me, if I enter Threal I shan't come out again. A smell of death is being wafted to me out of this hole."

The moment they stepped across the bubbling spring, the atmosphere altered. Without becoming stale or unpleasant, it grew cold, clear and refined, and somehow suggested austere and tomblike thoughts.

The air itself must have been luminous, for though it was as light as full moon on Earth, neither he nor Leehallfae cast a shadow. Another peculiarity of the light was that both the walls of the tunnel and their own bodies appeared colourless. Everything was black and white, like a lunar landscape. This intensified the solemn, funereal feelings created by the atmosphere.

strange metaphor for someone writing in 1920

"There has been no danger, for our destinies lie elsewhere. You are merely a ferryman, Haunte."

"Oh, I have my male stones. I am immune."

"So men and women here are hostile to each other, and love is unknown?"

Love between male and female is impossible. When Maskull loves a woman, it is Maskull's female ancestors who are loving her. But here in this land the men are pure males.

They have drawn nothing from the female side."

"There are two sets of three primary colours here," said Corpang, "but as one of the colours—blue—is identical in both sets, altogether there are five primary colours." "Why two sets?" "Produced by the two suns. Branchspell produces blue, yellow, and red; Alppain,

ulfire, blue, and jale."

another illustration of the necessary trinity of nature. Blue is existence. It is darkness seen through light; a contrasting of existence and nothingness. Yellow is relation. In yellow light we see the relation of objects in the clearest way. Red is feeling. When we see red, we are thrown back on our personal feelings.... As regards the Alppain colours, blue stands in the middle and

is therefore not existence, but relation. Ulfire is existence; so it must be a different sort of existence."

A thought came into his head and, snatching up the two male stones, he ran with them, laughing, through the upper doorway, into the open night air.

"When I was in Matterplay, I saw heavy clouds discharge themselves and change to coloured, living animals. In the same way, my black, chaotic pangs just now seemed to consolidate themselves and spring together as a new sort of joy. The joy would not have been possible without the preliminary nightmare. It is not accidental; Nature intends it so. The truth has just flashed through my brain.... You men of Lichstorm

don't go far enough. You stop at the pangs, Without realising that they are birth pangs."

"If this is true, you are a great pioneer," muttered Haunte. "How does this sensation differ from common love?" interrogated Corpang. "This was a...

She is not a woman, but a mass of pure sex. Your passion will draw her out into human shape, but only for a moment. If the change were permanent, you would have endowed her with a soul."

"To do that, it is not enough to desire her; she must desire you as well. But why should she desire you?"

In their richness, these lips seemed like a splash of vivid will on a background of slumbering protoplasm.

The light was perceptibly fading from Haunte's skin, as Maskull bent over. The man was dead. His face was unrecognisable. The head had

been split from the top downward into two halves, streaming with strange-coloured blood, as though it had received a terrible blow from an axe.

more phallic imagery

At first he failed to recognise her; it was not the woman he had kissed, but another. Then he gradually realised that her face was identical with that which Haunte's action had called into existence. A great

calmness came upon him; his bad sensations had disappeared. Sullenbode was transformed into a living soul. Her skin was firm, her features were strong, her eyes gleamed with the consciousness of power. She was tall and slight, but slow in all her gestures and movements. Her face was not beautiful. It was long, and palely lighted, while the mouth crossed the lower half like a gash of fire. The lips were as voluptuous as before. Her brows were heavy. There was nothing vulgar in her—she looked the kingliest of all

w...

"We women are endowed

with terrible power, but it is our only protection. We do not want these visits; we loathe them."

"We are following the steps of Lodd, who went there years ago, to find Muspel-light." "It's the light of another world." "The quest is grand. But cannot women see that light?" "On one condition," said Corpang. "They must forget their sex. Womanhood and love belong to life, while Muspel is above life."

"A magnanimous female lover is new in my experience."

We mustn't inquire whether the destination of single-minded men is as a rule worth arriving at."

Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an alluring girl and a half-infatuated man.

interesting and rare POV change--suddenly we're in Corpang's head, when we've been in Maskull's since chapter two

Sullenbode began kicking the snow about with her foot. "I picked up another piece of wisdom in my sleep, Corpang." "Tell it to me, then." "Men who live by laws and