Star Maker by Olaf Stapledon (bts book recommendations .txt) 📕

THE OTHER EARTH

1. ON THE OTHER EARTH

AS I slowly descended toward the surface of the little planet, I found

myself searching for a land which promised to be like England. But no

sooner did I realize what I was doing than I reminded myself that

conditions here would be entirely different from terrestrial conditions,

and that it was very unlikely that I should find intelligent beings at

all. If such beings existed, they would probably be quite

incomprehensible to me. Perhaps they would be huge spiders or creeping

jellies. How could I hope ever to make contact with such monsters?

After circling about at random for some time over the filmy clouds and

the forests, over the dappled plains and prairies and the dazzling

stretches of desert, I selected a maritime country in the temperate

zone, a brilliantly green peninsula. When I had descended almost to the

ground, I was amazed at the verdure of the country-side. Here

unmistakably was vegetation, similar to ours in essential character, but

quite unfamiliar in detail. The fat, or even bulbous, leaves reminded me

of our desert-flora, but here the stems were lean and wiry. Perhaps the

most striking character of this vegetation was its color, which was a

vivid blue-green, like the color of vineyards that have been treated

with copper salts. I was to discover later that the plants of this world

had indeed learnt to protect themselves by means of copper sulphate from

the microbes and the insect-like pests which formerly devastated this

rather dry planet.

I skimmed over a brilliant prairie scattered with Prussian blue bushes.

The sky also attained a depth of blue quite unknown on earth, save at

great altitudes. There were a few low yet cirrus clouds, whose feathery

character I took to be due to the tenuousness of the atmosphere. This

was borne out by the fact that, though my descent had taken place in the

forenoon of a summer’s day, several stars managed to pierce the almost

nocturnal sky. All exposed surfaces were very intensely illuminated. The

shadows of the nearer bushes were nearly black. Some distant objects,

rather like buildings, but probably mere rocks, appeared to be blocked

out in ebony and snow. Altogether the landscape was one of unearthly and

fantastical beauty.

I glided with wingless flight over the surface of the planet, through

glades, across tracts of fractured rock, along the banks of streams.

Presently I came to a wide region covered by neat, parallel rows of

fern-like plants, bearing masses of nuts on the lower surfaces of their

leaves. It was almost impossible to believe that this vegetable

regimentation had not been intelligently planned. Or could it after all

be merely a natural phenomenon not known on my own planet? Such was my

surprise that my power of locomotion, always subject to emotional

interference, now began to fail me. I reeled in the air like a drunk

man. Pulling myself together, I staggered on over the ranked crops

toward a rather large object which lay some distance from me beside a

strip of bare ground. Presently, to my amazement, my stupefaction, this

object revealed itself as a plow. It was rather a queer instrument, but

there was no mistaking the shape of the blade, which was rusty, and

obviously made of iron. There were two iron handles, and chains for

attachment to a beast of burden. It was difficult to believe that I was

many light-years distant from England. Looking round, I saw an

unmistakable cart track, and a bit of dirty ragged cloth hanging on a

bush. Yet overhead was the unearthly sky, full noon with stars.

I followed the lane through a little wood of queer bushes, whose large

fat drooping leaves had cherry-like fruits along their edges. Suddenly,

round a bend in the lane, I came upon a man. Or so at first he seemed to

my astounded and star-weary sight. I should not have been so surprised

by the strangely human character of this creature had I at this early

stage understood the forces that controlled my adventure. Influences

which I shall later describe doomed me to discover first such worlds as

were most akin to my own. Meanwhile the reader may well conceive my

amazement at this strange encounter. I had always supposed that man was

a unique being. An inconceivably complex conjunction of circumstances

had produced him, and it was not to be supposed that such conditions

would be repeated anywhere in the universe. Yet here, on the very first

globe to be explored, was an obvious peasant. Approaching him, I saw

that he was not quite so like terrestrial man as he seemed at a

distance; but he was a man for all that. Had God, then, peopled the

whole universe with our kind? Did he perhaps in very truth make us in

his image? It was incredible. To ask such questions proved that I had

lost my mental balance.

As I was a mere disembodied viewpoint, I was able to observe without

being observed. I floated about him as he strode along the lane. He was

an erect biped and in general plan definitely human. I had no means of

judging his height, but he must have been approximately of normal

terrestrial stature, or at least not smaller than a pigmy and not taller

than a giant. He was of slender build. His legs were almost like a

bird’s, and enclosed in rough narrow trousers. Above the waist he was

naked, displaying a disproportionately large thorax, shaggy with

greenish hair. He had two short but powerful arms, and huge shoulder

muscles. His skin was dark and ruddy, and dusted plentifully with bright

green down. All his contours were uncouth, for the details of muscles,

sinews and joints were very plainly different from our own. His neck was

curiously long and supple. His head I can best describe by saying that

most of the brain-pan, covered with a green thatch, seemed to have

slipped backwards and downwards over the nape. His two very human eyes

peered from under the eaves of hair. An oddly projecting, almost

spout-like mouth made him look as though he were whistling. Between the

eyes, and rather above them, was a pair of great equine nostrils which

were constantly in motion. The bridge of the nose was represented by an

elevation in the thatch, reaching from the nostrils backwards over the

top of the head. There were no visible ears. I discovered later that the

auditory organs opened into the nostrils.

Clearly, although evolution on this Earthlike planet must have taken a

course on the whole surprisingly like that which had produced my own

kind, there must also have been many divergencies.

The stranger wore not only boots but gloves, seemingly ol tough leather.

His boots were extremely short. I was to discover later that the feet of

this race, the “Other Men,” as I called them, were rather like the feet

of an ostrich or a camel. The instep consisted of three great toes grown

together. In place of the heel there was an additional broad, stumpy

toe. The hands were without palms. Each was a bunch of three gristly

fingers and a thumb.

The aim of this book is not to tell of ray own adventures but to give

some idea of the worlds which I visited. I shall therefore not recount

in detail how I established myself among the Other Men. Of myself it is

enough to say a few words. When I had studied this agriculturalist for a

while, I began to be strangely oppressed by his complete unawareness, of

myself. With painful clearness I realized that the purpose of my

pilgrimage was not merely scientific observation, but also the need to

effect some kind of mental and spiritual traffic with other worlds, for

mutual enrichment and community. How should I ever be able to achieve

this end unless I could find some means of communication? It was not

until I had followed my companion to his home, and had spent many days

in that little circular stone house with roof of mudded wicker, that I

discovered the power of entering into his mind, of seeing through his

eyes, sensing through all his sense organs, perceiving his world just as

he perceived it, and following much of his thought and his emotional

life. Not till very much later, when I had passively “inhabited” many

individuals of the race, did I discover how to make my presence known,

and even to converse inwardly with my host.

This kind of internal “telepathic” intercourse, which was to serve me in

all my wanderings, was at first difficult, ineffective, and painful. But

in time I came to be able to live through the experiences of my host

with vividness and accuracy, while yet preserving my own individuality,

my own critical intelligence, my own desires and fears. Only when the

other had come to realize my presence within him could he, by a special

act of volition, keep particular thoughts secret from me.

It can well be understood that at first I found these alien minds quite

unintelligible. Their very sensations differed from my familiar

sensations in important respects. Their thoughts and all their emotions

and sentiments were strange to me. The traditional groundwork of these

minds, their most familiar concepts, were derived from a strange

history, and expressed in languages which to the terrestrial mind were

subtly misleading.

I spent on the Other Earth many “other years,” wandering from mind to

mind and country to country, but I did not gain any clear understanding

of the psychology of the Other Men and the significance of their history

till I had encountered one of their philosophers, an aging but still

vigorous man whose eccentric and unpalatable views had prevented him

from attaining eminence. Most of my hosts, when they became aware of ‘my

presence within them, regarded me either as an evil spirit or as a

divine messenger. The more sophisticated, however, assumed that I was a

mere disease, a symptom of insanity in themselves. They therefore

promptly applied to the local “Mental Sanitation Officer.” After I had

spent, according to the local calendar, a year or so of bitter

loneliness among minds who refused to treat me as a human being, I had

the good fortune to come under the philosopher’s notice. One of my

hosts, who complained of suffering from “voices,” and visions of

“another world,” appealed to the old man for help. Bvalltu, for such

approximately was the philosopher’s name, the “11” being pronounced more

or less as in Welsh, Bvalltu effected a “cure” by merely inviting me to

accept the hospitality of his own mind, where, he said,