MAN’S WORLD (7)
By:
August 26, 2024
HiLoBooks is pleased to serialize Charlotte Haldane’s 1926 proto-sf novel Man’s World for HILOBROW’s readers. Written by an author married to one of the world’s most prominent eugenics advocates, this ambivalent adventure anticipates both Brave New World and The Handmaid’s Tale. When a young woman rebels against her conditioning, can she break free? Reissued in 2024 (with a new introduction by Philippa Levine) by the MIT Press’s RADIUM AGE series.
ALL INSTALLMENTS: INTRO | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25.
FROM THE GENERAL TO THE PARTICULAR
Remarquez de plus que je me place dans l’hypothèse d’un progrès immense de la conscience humaine, d’une réalisation du vrai et du juste dont il n’y a eu aucun exemple jusqu’ici. Je suppose (et je me crois ici dans le vrai) ce progrès accompli, non par tous, mais par une aristocracie servant de tête à l’humanité, et en laquelle la masse aurait mis le dépôt de sa raison.
RENAN — ‘DIALOGUES PHILOSOPHIQUES.’
I
‘Brains’ were in council. When the propagandists, through whom a tiny minority of men supplied and controlled the imaginative concepts of millions, had provided the imagery which would make the masses submissiveto the works of the Patrol, they had translated the terms of social organization into those of the human body. The Body then stood symbolically for the entire white race.
Of the individual ‘brain-cells’ a few were now gathered together in a small and adequately protected hall. Their duties corresponded vaguely to those of former Ministers of State. But, being planned on supernational lines, the scope and power of each individual was napoleonic. Each man, aided by scientific method and scientifically trained subordinates, had at his command countless infallible messengers of communication and direction; his resources were equalled only by his opportunities, but neither had been possible had they not been preceded by a definite plan of scientific thinking and acting.
Here was McKie, in whom was vested the guardianship of the Outer Zones — those artificially created desert tracts which marked the boundary lines between the white and adjoining races; on which nothing during long years either moved or stirred save the shadows of the watchers in the blue above them. The tropical sources of oil, cotton, quinine, and other vegetable products whose cultivation had formerly demanded thousands of white and coloured sacrifices, were abandoned in these synthetic days to their earlier disorder.
Here was Winburg, the fat, mild, amiable Brain of chemical warfare, who had invented the dreaded Thanatil, which, on combining with the human plasma protein pseudoglobulin 2c, formed a deadly poison of the cobra venom type. His particular young men alone knew the secret of its manufacture and its antibody. The gentle Winburg, too, had first suggested the exploitation of that enzyme which produces the black pigment in negroes, and which, when attacking the tyrosine ester of Thanatil absorbed by the dusky skin, gradually liberates the poison till the central nervous system is invaded, causing paralysis and death.
Here, too, was Lutyens, the chief liaison officer between the Gay Company and the Patrol, who had founded that branch of the latter named ‘Ears.’ Those Ears heard all complaints and grievances, and their legal administration was founded strictly on the principles laid down by their psycho-pathological researchers.
Finally, here was St. John Richmond, with his son and auxiliary Adrian; St. John who, as the only one among them looked on as the possible successor to Mensch, co-ordinated their various functions.
‘Well, what about these Japanese?’ challenged McKie.
St. John, strolling as usual restlessly about, turned sharply and faced him. McKie was still rather young; to ferret for dangers unseen was his hobby, his pleasure to devise plans of defence against attacks which only he anticipated. That kind of sensationalism was the only luxury he permitted himself. It amused his colleagues to indulge him at times like the present, when his words related to a matter of fact.
‘Well,’ encouraged the adipose Winburg, ‘and what then?’
Lutyens and Adrian Richmond remained silent. The same question had presented itself to both minds already; not with the dramatic insistence it adopted in McKie’s case, but still as one which might as well now be discussed and answered.
The glint of a mocking smile appeared in St. John’s eyes as he glanced around and noted with what ill-concealed eagerness his reply was awaited. The smile deepened a trifle as he contemplated Adrian, his son; the only one of all the sons to whom the father’s word was the word of a ruler. Adrian, incarnation of filial loyalty, amused, flattered, and irritated his parent alternately. Still, Adrian, despite his mental dull patches, was an indispensable lieutenant, a repository of secrets which would be kept, a delegate of responsibilities that could not be averted.
The bold and perturbed McKie gave his leader — as they tacitly acknowledged St. John to be — glance for glance. ‘Day on,’ Richmond encouraged him, speaking softly through almost closed jaws.
‘I say,’ retorted McKie, ‘that we must take a line regarding these people.’ He used lip-talk — a precaution used whenever confidential matters were discussed. Existing arrangements for secrecy appeared adequate, but sound-catchers had before this been smuggled by these same people into council chambers. The others took his cue without comment. ‘I suppose tours of this kind are unavoidable. But this one will be protracted. What they want to see and examine ostensibly, we know. Ostensibly… How much exactly are we going to let them know?’
‘Everything, as usual, of course.’ St. John’s brevity was ironical.
‘H’m. You appear to be quite satisfied about it.’
‘So am I,’ chimed in Lutyens. They all got fun out of McKie. ‘Let there be light. Some, unaccustomed to its intensity, may be blinded or stricken by it. But let there be light.’
‘What about Marshall’s new stuff?’ It was the fat Winburg, joining in the game, who asked the question.
‘Certainly, by all means,’ nodded St. John, and almost grinned. ‘I look forward, Adrian,’ he added, as he leaned against a convenient ledge and mischievously contemplated his son, ‘to an appreciation of our star turn by the tourists.’
Adrian responded enthusiastically. ‘You heard yourself what Godling, Kuck, and Lanion reported on it. Marshall has exceeded his own and our expectations. He has proved his case completely. Since we had his last paper his views have been reinforced by the tests of Barrillon.’
‘I am no physicist, but just a plain Patrolman,’ burst from McKie. ‘So perhaps I may be allowed to doubt whether Marshall’s invention really does set the seal on our security. But even if so, I can only repeat, the line ought to be drawn somewhere.’
‘My friend,’ gurgled Winburg with heavy flippancy, ‘you are always drawing lines, and they are very straight ones. Let us be frank with our Oriental friends. If, in their case, seeing proves believing, there is no reason to suppose that faith removes vapours more easily than mountains. And even the Oriental arts in eliminating man from a sphere of noxious activity are not inimitable. I think past events have proven conclusively the efficiency of the “miserable Patrolmen.”‘
McKie subsided.
‘Well, you are apparently satisfied. But it would teach us a lesson if one day our weapons were effectively turned against us.’
‘Be comforted, dear friend,’ concluded Winburg, ‘with the maxim, doubtless of Oriental origin: “The brains of the hydra reside in its head, and the number of all heads is finite.”‘
‘I think you will find,’ St. John concluded the discussion, ‘that our plans for the entertainment of our visitors will satisfy you. I can assure you that your prejudices are shared by us all to this extent at any rate: we shall use our customary caution in every matter and as much in addition as may be found necessary. We do not propose to pledge our own, nor white posterity’s security, to theories or principles. All may come and all may see what happens to be visible. But Marshall’s new stuff has not yet reached the point of publicity. Its practical applicability has been tested by the four men mentioned by Adrian only. Their report is in careful hands, and at present only ourselves have access to it. It is not proposed that any of these people shall be on the committee of hospitality. They will be occupied elsewhere for the duration of this visit. Past experience encourages me to think that we shall be in a position to meet any menace such as you seem to suggest. I should be delighted to discuss details with you some other time. I have had a somewhat strenuous eighteen hours. But let me remind you, if I may, that our power still depends on two facts: the small number of us who wield it, and the even smaller numbers of those who might prove our enemies — if they could adapt our methods to their own purposes.’
‘Oh, I grant you those points,’ answered McKie, mollified, but regretful to abandon his scare.
‘Well, then, my dear fellow,’ concluded St. John, ‘let us be consistent. We have laid down the principle of the open door. We cannot now bar it. But even an open door may be guarded. I forget whether the gates of heaven were supposed to be closed or merely ajar. St. Peter, however, I understand to have been a fairly efficient goalkeeper. It is a pity,’ he grinned at Adrian as he spoke, ‘that my youngest son, whom I believe to be something of a theological expert, is not here to advise us on the point. The fact remains that the core of our “kingdom,” according to the venerated precedent, will remain invisible to all save those of unblemished vision. Our visitors may learn all they can. And I think we may confidently forecast exactly how much that will be.’
‘I will call on you to-morrow,’ said McKie as he rose. ‘In the meantime I am at the disposal of the entertainment committee.’
‘They will be delighted,’ rejoined St. John with twinkling eyes. ‘At the end of the visit your own mind, no doubt, will be steeped in Oriental guilelessness.’
‘Impossible,’ declared Lutyens emphatically, ‘even you will never deprive him of his little joke.’
‘You will not,’ McKie pleasantly flung at them as he went. ‘For myself, I find this world “far too good to be true,” as our ancestors used to say.’
RADIUM AGE PROTO-SF: “Radium Age” is Josh Glenn’s name for the nascent sf genre’s c. 1900–1935 era, a period which saw the discovery of radioactivity, i.e., the revelation that matter itself is constantly in movement — a fitting metaphor for the first decades of the 20th century, during which old scientific, religious, political, and social certainties were shattered. More info here.
SERIALIZED BY HILOBOOKS: James Parker’s Cocky the Fox | Annalee Newitz’s “The Great Oxygen Race” | Matthew Battles’s “Imago” | & many more original and reissued novels and stories.