| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll: anon, the veil seemed to vanish, in a sudden flash of light: but,
before I could fully realise the face, all was dark again. In each such
glimpse, the face seemed to grow more childish and more innocent:
and, when I had at last thought the veil entirely away, it was,
unmistakeably, the sweet face of little Sylvie!
"So, either I've been dreaming about Sylvie," I said to myself,
"and this is the reality. Or else I've really been with Sylvie,
and this is a dream! Is Life itself a dream, I wonder?"
To occupy the time, I got out the letter, which had caused me to take
this sudden railway-journey from my London home down to a strange
fishing-town on the North coast, and read it over again:-
Sylvie and Bruno |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Republic by Plato: you have the offer of such a life.
You agree then, I said, that men and women are to have a common way of life
such as we have described--common education, common children; and they are
to watch over the citizens in common whether abiding in the city or going
out to war; they are to keep watch together, and to hunt together like
dogs; and always and in all things, as far as they are able, women are to
share with the men? And in so doing they will do what is best, and will
not violate, but preserve the natural relation of the sexes.
I agree with you, he replied.
The enquiry, I said, has yet to be made, whether such a community be found
possible--as among other animals, so also among men--and if possible, in
The Republic |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey: nucleus of a terrible revolt.
Jane turned into one of the wide lanes leading from the main
street and entered a huge, shady yard. Here were sweet-smelling
clover, alfalfa, flowers, and vegetables, all growing in happy
confusion. And like these fresh green things were the dozens of
babies, tots, toddlers, noisy urchins, laughing girls, a whole
multitude of children of one family. For Collier Brandt, the
father of all this numerous progeny, was a Mormon with four
wives.
The big house where they lived was old, solid, picturesque the
lower part built of logs, the upper of rough clapboards, with
Riders of the Purple Sage |
