A Voyage to Arcturus by David Lindsay (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📖

world—to Faceny. This underworld is not Faceny’s world, but Thire’s, and Faceny’s creatures cannot breathe its atmosphere. As this applies not only to whole bodies, but even to the last particles of bodies, the phaen has dissolved into Nothingness.”

“But don’t you and I belong to the outside world too?”

“We belong to all three worlds.”

“What three worlds—what do you mean?”

“There are three worlds,” said Corpang composedly. “The first is Faceny’s, the second is Amfuse’s, the third is Thire’s. From him Threal gets its name.”

“But this is mere nomenclature. In what sense are there three worlds?”

Corpang passed his hand over his forehead. “All this we can discuss as we go along. It’s a torment to me to be standing still.”

Maskull stared again at the spot where Leehallfae’s body had lain, quite bewildered at the extraordinary disappearance. He could scarcely tear himself away from the place, so mysterious was it. Not until Corpang called to him a second time did he make up his mind to follow him.

They set off from the rock wall straight across the airlit plain, directing their course toward the nearest trees. The subdued light, the absence of shadows, the massive shafts, springing grey-white out of the jetlike ground, the fantastic trees, the absence of a sky, the deathly silence, the knowledge that he was underground—the combination of all these things predisposed Maskull’s mind to mysticism, and he prepared himself with some anxiety to hear Corpang’s explanation of the land and its wonders. He already began to grasp that the reality of the outside world and the reality of this world were two quite different things.

“In what sense are there three worlds?” he demanded, repeating his former question.

Corpang smote the end of his staff on the ground. “First of all, Maskull, what is your motive for asking? If it’s mere intellectual curiosity, tell me, for we mustn’t play with awful matters.”

“No, it isn’t that,” said Maskull slowly. “I’m not a student. My journey is no holiday tour.”

“Isn’t there blood on your soul?” asked Corpang, eying him intently.

The blood rose steadily to Maskull’s face, but in that light it caused it to appear black.

“Unfortunately there is, and not a little.”

The other’s face was all wrinkles, but he made no comment.

“And so you see,” went on Maskull, with a short laugh, “I’m in the very best condition for receiving your instruction.”

Corpang still paused. “Underneath your crimes I see a man,” he said, after a few minutes. “On that account, and because we are commanded to help one another, I won’t leave you at present, though I little thought to be walking with a murderer.... Now to your question.... Whatever a man sees with his eyes, Maskull, he sees in three ways—length, breadth, depth. Length is existence, breadth is relation, depth is feeling.”

“Something of the sort was told me by Earthrid, the musician, who came from Threal.”

“I don’t know him. What else did he tell you?”

“He went on to apply it to music. Continue, and pardon the interruption.”

“These three states of perception are the three worlds. Existence is Faceny’s world, relation is Amfuse’s world, feeling is Thire’s world.”

“Can’t we come down to hard facts?” said Maskull, frowning. “I understand no more than I did before what you mean by three worlds.”

“There are no harder facts than the ones I am giving you. The first world is visible, tangible Nature. It was created by Faceny out of nothingness, and therefore we call it Existence.”

“That I understand.”

“The second world is Love—by which I don’t mean lust. Without love, every individual would be entirely self-centred and unable deliberately to act on others. Without love, there would be no sympathy—not even hatred, anger, or revenge would be possible. These are all imperfect and distorted forms of pure love. Interpenetrating Faceny’s world of Nature, therefore, we have Amfuse’s world of Love, or Relation.”

“What grounds have you for assuming that this so-called second world is not contained in the first?”

“They are contradictory. A natural man lives for himself; a lover lives for others.”

“It may be so. It’s rather mystical. But go on—who is Thire?”

“Length and breadth together without depth give flatness. Life and love without feeling produce shallow, superficial natures. Feeling is the need of men to stretch out toward their creator.”

“You mean prayer and worship?”

“I mean intimacy with Thire. This feeling is not to be found in either the first or second world, therefore it is a third world. Just as depth is the line between object and subject, feeling is the line between Thire and man.”

“But what is Thire himself?”

“Thire is the afterworld.”

“I still don’t understand,” said Maskull. “Do you believe in three separate gods, or are these merely three ways of regarding one God?”

“There are three gods, for they are mutually antagonistic. Yet they are somehow united.”

Maskull reflected a while. “How have you arrived at these conclusions?”

“None other are possible in Threal, Maskull.”

“Why in Threal—what is there peculiar here?”

“I will show you presently.”

They walked on for above a mile in silence, while Maskull digested what had been said. When they came to the first trees, which grew along the banks of a small stream of transparent water, Corpang halted.

“That bandage around your forehead has long been unnecessary,” he remarked.

Maskull removed it. He found that the line of his brow was smooth and uninterrupted, as it had never yet been since his arrival in Tormance.

“How has this come about—and how did you know it?”

“They were Faceny’s organs. They have vanished, just as the phaen’s body vanished.”

Maskull kept rubbing his forehead. “I feel more human without them. But why isn’t the rest of my body affected?”

“Because its living will contains the element of Thire.”

“Why are we stopping here?”

Corpang broke off the tip of one of the aerial roots of a tree, and proffered it to him. “Eat this, Maskull.”

“For food, or something else?”

“Food for body and soul.”