Star Maker - Olaf Stapledon (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) 📗
- Author: Olaf Stapledon
- Performer: -
Book online «Star Maker - Olaf Stapledon (the top 100 crime novels of all time .TXT) 📗». Author Olaf Stapledon
could not, for instance, make twice two equal five. In his early phase
he was limited also by his immaturity. He was still in the trance of
infancy. Though the unconscious source of his consciously exploring and
creating mentality was none other than his own eternal essence,
consciously he was at first but the vague blind hunger of creativity.
In his beginning he immediately set about exploring his power. He
objectified from himself something of his own unconscious substance to
be the medium of his art, and this he molded with conscious purpose.
Thus again and again he fashioned toy cosmos after toy cosmos.
But the creative Star Maker’s own unconscious substance was none other
than the eternal spirit itself, the Star Maker in his eternal and
perfect aspect. Thus it was that, in his immature phases, whenever he
evoked from his own depth the crude substance of a cosmos, the substance
itself turned out to be not formless but rich in determinate
potentialities, logical, physical, biological, psychological. These
potentialities were sometimes recalcitrant to the conscious purpose of
the young Star Maker. He could not always accommodate, still less fulfil
them. It seemed to me that this idiosyncrasy of the medium itself often
defeated his plan; but also that it suggested again and again more
fertile conceptions. Again and again, according to my myth, the Star
Maker learned from his creature, and thereby outgrew his creature, and
craved to work upon an ampler plan. Again and again he set aside a
finished cosmos and evoked from himself a new creation.
Many times in the early part of my dream I felt doubt as to what the
Star Maker was striving to accomplish in his creating. I could not but
believe that his purpose was at first not clearly conceived. He himself
had evidently to discover it gradually; and often, as it seemed to me,
his work was tentative, and his aim confused. But at the close of his
maturity he willed to create as fully as possible, to call forth the
full potentiality of his medium, to fashion works of increasing
subtlety, and of increasingly harmonious diversity. As his purpose
became clearer, it seemed also to include the will to create universes
each of which might contain some unique achievement of awareness and
expression. For the creature’s achievement of perception and of will was
seemingly the instrument by which the Star Maker himself, cosmos by
cosmos, woke into keener lucidity.
Thus it was that, through the succession of his creatures, the Star
Maker advanced from stage to stage in the progress from infantile to
mature divinity.
Thus it was that in the end he became what, in the eternal view, he
already was in the beginning, the ground and crown of all things.
In the typically irrational manner of dreams, this dream-myth which
arose in my mind represented the eternal spirit as being at once the
cause and the result of the infinite host of finite existents. In some
unintelligible manner all finite things, though they were in a sense
figments of the absolute spirit, were also essential to the very
existence of the absolute spirit. Apart from them it had no being. But
whether this obscure relationship represented some important truth or
was merely a trivial dream-fiction, I cannot say.
THE MAKER AND HIS WORKS
1. IMMATURE CREATING
ACCORDING to the fantastic myth or dream that was evoked from my mind
after the supreme moment of experience, the particular cosmos which I
had come to regard as “myself” falls somewhere neither early nor late in
the vast series of creations. It appeared to be in some respects the
Star Maker’s first mature work; but in comparison with later creations
it was in many ways juvenile in spirit.
Though the early creations express the nature of the Star Maker merely
in his immature phase, for the most part they fall in important respects
aside from the direction of human thought, and therefore I cannot now
recapture them. They have left me with little more than a vague sense of
the multiplicity and diversity of the Star Maker’s works. Nevertheless a
few humanly intelligible traces remain and must be recorded.
In the crude medium of my dream the first cosmos of all appeared as a
surprisingly simple thing. The infant Star Maker, teased, as it seemed
to me, by his unexpressed potency, conceived and objectified from
himself two qualities. With these alone he made his first toy cosmos, a
temporal rhythm, as it were of sound and silence. From this first simple
drum-beat, premonitory of a thousand creations, he developed with
infantile but godlike zest a flickering tattoo, a changeful complexity
of rhythm. Presently, through contemplation of his creature’s simple
form, he conceived the possibility of more subtle creating. Thus the
first of all creatures itself bred in its creator a need that itself
could never satisfy. Therefore the infant Star Maker brought his first
cosmos to a close. Regarding it from outside the cosmical time which it
had generated, he apprehended its whole career as present, though none
the less a flux. And when he had quietly assessed his work, he withdrew
his attention from it and brooded for a second creation.
Thereafter, cosmos upon cosmos, each more rich and subtle than the last,
leapt from his fervent imagination. In some of his earliest creations he
seemed to be concerned only with the physical aspect of the substance
which he had objectified from himself. He was blind to its physical
potentiality. In one early cosmos, however, the patterns of physical
quality with which he played simulated an individuality and a life which
they did not in fact possess. Or did they possess it? In a later
creation, certainly, true life broke out most strangely. This was a
cosmos which the Star Maker apprehended physically much as men
apprehended music. It was a rich sequence of qualities diverse in pitch
and in intensity. With this toy the infant Star Maker played
delightedly, inventing an infinite wealth of melody and counterpoint.
But before he had worked out all the subtleties of pattern implied in
this little world of cold, mathematical music, before he had created
more than a few kinds of lifeless, musical creatures, it became evident
that some of his creatures were manifesting traces of a life of their
own, recalcitrant to the conscious purpose of the Star Maker. The themes
of the music began to display modes of behavior that were not in accord
with the canon which he had ordained for them. It seemed to me that he
watched them with intense interest, and that they spurred him to new
conceptions, beyond the creatures’ power to fulfil. Therefore he brought
this cosmos to completion; and in a novel manner. He contrived that the
last state of the cosmos should lead immediately back to the first. He
knotted the final event temporally to the beginning, so that the
cosmical time formed an endless circlet. After considering his work from
outside its proper time, he set it aside, and brooded for a fresh
creation.
For the next cosmos he consciously projected something of his own
percipience and will, ordaining that certain patterns and rhythms of
quality should be the perceivable bodies of perceiving minds. Seemingly
these creatures were intended to work together to produce the harmony
which he had conceived for this cosmos; but instead, each sought to mold
the whole cosmos in accordance with its own form. The creatures fought
desperately, and with self-righteous conviction. When they were damaged,
they suffered pain. This, seemingly, was something which the young Star
Maker had never experienced or conceived. With rapt, surprised interest,
and (as it seemed to me) with almost diabolical glee, he watched the
antics and the sufferings of his first living creatures, till by their
mutual strife and slaughter they had reduced this cosmos to chaos.
Thenceforth the Star Maker never for long ignored his creatures’
potentiality for intrinsic life. It seemed to me, however, that many of
his early experiments in vital creation went strangely awry, and that
sometimes, seemingly in disgust with the biological, he would revert for
a while to purely physical fantasies.
I can only briefly describe the host of the early creations. Suffice it
that they issued from the divine though still infantile imagination one
after the other like bright but trivial bubbles, gaudy with color, rich
with all manner of physical subtleties, lyrical and often tragic with
the loves and hates, the lusts and aspirations and communal enterprises
of the Star Maker’s early experimental conscious beings.
Many of these early universes were non-spatial, though none the less
physical. And of these non-spatial universes not a few were of the
“musical” type, in which space was strangely represented by a dimension
corresponding to musical pitch, and capacious with myriads of tonal
differences. The creatures appeared to one another as complex patterns
and rhythms of tonal characters. They could move their tonal bodies in
the dimension of pitch, and sometimes in other dimensions, humanly
inconceivable. A creature’s body was a more or less constant tonal
pattern, with much the same degree of flexibility and minor
changefulness as a human body. Also, it could traverse other living
bodies in the pitch dimension much as wave-trains on a pond may cross
one another. But though these beings could glide through one another,
they could also grapple, and damage one another’s tonal tissues. Some,
indeed, lived by devouring others; for the more complex needed to
integrate into their own vital patterns the simpler patterns that
exfoliated throughout the cosmos directly from the creative power of the
Star Maker. The intelligent creatures could manipulate for their own
ends elements wrenched from the fixed tonal environment, thus
constructing artifacts of tonal pattern. Some of these served as tools
for the more efficient pursuit of “agricultural” activities, by which
they enhanced the abundance of their natural food. Universes of this
non-spatial kind, though incomparably simpler and more meager than our
own cosmos, were rich enough to produce societies capable not only of
“agriculture” but of “handicrafts,” and even a kind of pure art that
combined the characteristics of song and dance and verse. Philosophy,
generally rather Pythagorean, appeared for the first time in a cosmos of
this “musical” kind. In nearly all the Star Maker’s works, as revealed
in my dream, time was a more fundamental attribute than space. Though in
some of his earliest creations he excluded time, embodying merely a
static design, this plan was soon abandoned. It gave little scope to his
skill. Moreover, since it excluded the possibility of life and mind, it
was incompatible with all but the earliest phase of his interest.
Space, my dream declared, appeared first as a development of a
non-spatial dimension in a “musical” cosmos. The tonal creatures in this
cosmos could move not merely “up” and “down” the scale but “sideways.”
In human music particular themes may seem to approach or retreat, owing
to variations of loudness and timbre. In a rather similar manner the
creatures in this “musical” cosmos could approach one another or retreat
and finally vanish out of earshot. In passing “sideways” they traveled
through continuously changing tonal environments. In a subsequent cosmos
this “sideways” motion of the creatures was enriched with true spatial
experience.
There followed creations with spatial characters of several dimensions,
creations Euclidean and non-Euclidean, creations exemplifying a great
diversity of geometrical and physical principles. Sometimes time, or
space-time, was the fundamental reality of the cosmos, and the entities
were but fleeting modifications of it; but more often, qualitative
events were fundamental, and these were related in spatio-temporal
manners. In some cases the system of spatial relations was infinite, in
others finite though boundless. In some the finite extent of space was
Comments (0)