CHAPTER FIVE: A PARTICULAR BIAS

Another day Carmel said to me: "You know, I've very rarely seen you with a book by a woman in your hands. There are only a few books by women in your library, which leads me to assume that you don't much care for female writers."

I blushed faintly in involuntary confirmation of Carmel's assumption, put down the book I was reading, which happened to have been written by a woman, and waited for my darling to sit down opposite me, before launching into a response. "As a matter of fact, I don't much care for female writers," I confessed, blushing slightly, "since their intellects usually function on a lower, more matter-of-fact plane than my own, and either bore me or offend me with their particular bias. Of course, all women writers are to greater or lesser extents quasi-supermen in their professional lives, because they tend to function as quasi-electron equivalents. So before you accuse me of discriminating against women, I must tell you that, on the contrary, I'm really discriminating against quasi-supermen who, for a variety of reasons, not least of all psychological, are unable to approximate to supermen, i.e. to a genuine free-electron equivalent, like myself."

Carmel looked momentarily puzzled and asked: "What, exactly, do you mean by 'their particular bias'?"

"I mean that, even as quasi-supermen, they retain something of a woman's point of view, and so speak more for their own interim sex than for men as a whole," I replied. "To revert briefly to conventional terminology, one might say that, consciously or unconsciously, an authoress generally writes more for other women than for men, which is why her writings can become tedious or irrelevant to a man. Moreover, she usually writes on her own level, which, at best, isn't that of a superman but of a quasi-superman, a mind appertaining to a female body which, although to some extent intellectualized, still falls short of being truly intellectual. Now there's no reason why such a person shouldn't write books, since, as a quasi-electron equivalent, she cannot be discriminated against as a woman. Yet there's still a good reason, founded upon dissimilar intellectual capacities, why a genuine superman should prefer not to read those books, but concentrate, instead, on the most intelligent writings being produced by fellow-supermen. I received adequate confirmation of that fact some time ago."

"Strange you didn't tell me about it," Carmel remarked. "But perhaps you will now?"

In truth, I would have preferred to let the matter drop there and then, but, since Carmel insisted I tell her, I reluctantly complied. "It was one of Vera Stanley Alder's books, The Secret of the Atomic Age, which I had borrowed from the local library," I proceeded. "I can't pretend that I was particularly ingratiated by the title to begin with; for I'd already got to a post-atomic stage of thinking in my own writings and had little respect for atomic integrities. Nevertheless I persevered with her little book until the end, and when I'd finished reading it I was overcome with relief, since its main arguments weren't particularly convincing. Indeed, I realized, in the light of my own work, that they were tragically delusive! For while her contention that man had fallen from the spiritual realm of God to the material realm of the world was not without some justification ... in light of Biblical tradition, her conclusion that man had need of a return to God (the Father) through correct natural living ... struck a distinct discord in me, since her thesis emphasized the goodness of the origin of life in the solar atoms, the evil of the descent of life into the cruder atoms of the material world, and the need for man to refine on the atoms of his mind in order to get himself transmuted back to the level of God again. The artificial life of modern man, encouraged by scientific invention and endeavour, was sharply criticized from a bias favouring the natural. Indeed, the production of natural atomic energy, which the ancient Egyptians had apparently succeeded in producing, was considered of more benefit and importance to humanity than the production of artificial atomic energy, such as we encounter in the modern age. Dame Vera clearly had great respect for the ancient wisdoms, which she considered superior to much of what goes-on in the world today."

Carmel smiled in semi-ironic fashion and concluded: "But you evidently think less highly of the ancient wisdoms yourself?"

"Indeed," I confirmed, "because I can't refrain from equating them with a certain primitivity, which involves too great an emphasis on nature and the natural, as befitting a less civilized age. No, I couldn't share Dame Vera's respect for the ancient wisdoms, and neither could I share her opinion that man must get back to God, from whom, by some mysterious process, he had fallen, along with the rest of Creation. This 'fall', corresponding to Old Testament theology, is defined by her as involution, which reflects a concession to materialist criteria, whereas the return to God, and thus to the realm of the purest atoms, involves evolution, during which time or process the individual puts the good of the community above self-interest on the material plane, and so behaves like a true Son of God by living according to the highest natural principles in loyalty to the spirit. Life may therefore be interpreted, in Dame Vera's logic, as proceeding from God to man, and from man back to God again, which would correspond, using the letters of the alphabet, to a development from 'A' to, say, 'M', with a gradual struggle back to 'A' again."

"Whereas you, by contrast, regard it as proceeding from 'A' to 'Z', or from a diabolic alpha absolute to a divine omega absolute?" Carmel surmised.

"Absolutely," I rejoined. "But in Vera Alder's limited logic there's no place for the Holy Spirit, and consequently things are required to proceed back to the Father, which, to say the least, I can only regard as a most unsatisfactory state-of-affairs! Now the fact that she thinks otherwise is partly attributable, I believe, to her basic mental constitution as an upper-class woman, for whom the Alpha is apt to appear more of an ally than an enemy, and who is prepared, in consequence, to adopt a much more euphemistic, optimistic, and complacent view of cosmic energy than ever a man like me could! She, however, is the kind of thinker who is accepted in England, whereas I, with my post-atomic lucidity, can only be an outsider there. Nevertheless I learnt from her book to be wary of women writers and to treat them as a separate category. For they're very often in league with the Devil without realizing it. Unfortunately, no matter how intelligent the woman - and Vera Alder has more than the usual quota of academic intelligence - she will never become a superman but remain, at most, a quasi-superman, functioning on quasi-electron terms. No absolute equality can be established between the sexes on the human plane!"

I had got quite worked-up with righteous indignation by now, and might have succumbed to a tirade of abuse against false prophets and diabolical muddleheads ... had not Carmel interrupted me to ask: "But wasn't there any aspect of her book you liked?"

Halted in mid-flight, as it were, I was obliged to take my bearings and scan my memory for an answer. "Yes, there was actually," I at length replied. "For I enjoyed her prose style quite a lot, which reminded me of the lush, rather quirky style of John Cowper Powys, who would qualify on a number of grounds, not least of all his bias for nature and the natural life generally, for recognition as a kindred spirit - perhaps the nearest thing to a male equivalent that Dame Vera could ever hope to find. However, I also seem to recall that her advocacy of fruit-eating made a positive impression on me, since I subsequently made more room for fruit in my diet, thereby hoping to improve the quality of my mental atoms, so to speak! Yet I'm fully aware that a partiality for fruit in its natural state is a bourgeois or alpha-stemming tendency, and that the more civilized people, even when they aren't particularly conscious of being such, tend to prefer fruit at an artificial remove from the raw - namely in the form of various kinds of fruit pies and/or yoghurts."

Carmel nodded affirmatively, recalling to mind the occasion when I had told her that it was a bourgeois shortcoming to regard doctored or artistically-shaped food, such as one encountered in burger bars and fast-food joints generally, as 'plastic'. Considered from an evolutionary point-of-view, only that food which had been severed, so to speak, from its natural roots through artificial shaping was worthy of being equated with a higher order of civilization. Thus chips or, to give them their American name, fries, when shaped in such a delicate and intricate fashion as was generally the custom in burger bars reflected an evolutionary progression beyond roast potatoes, which still resembled potatoes in their naturalistic appearance. Those who ordinarily preferred chips and/or fries to roast potatoes were more civilized in their gastronomical tastes. Doubtless the same applied to those who ordinarily preferred apple pies, carefully wrapped and boxed, to raw applies. It was the difference, to put it crudely, between the city dweller, with his daily exposure to artificial influences, and the suburban or rural dweller, who lived closer to nature. The difference, in other words, between the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. Tough luck if you shied away from this fact, like Count Dracula from the Cross! I suspected that Dame Vera preferred apples and roast or boiled potatoes to apple pies or chips, and said as much to Carmel, when she had concluded her recollections concerning my opposition to such bourgeois failings as the inability to regard synthetic or artificially-shaped food with respect.

"Not that I'm particularly partial to such food myself," I continued. "But, then, long and painful confinement in the metropolis did have the effect of obliging me to regard most aspects of urban life from an objective rather than a narrowly subjective point-of-view. Thus in theory I betrayed or, if you prefer, transcended my class origins, without, however, becoming too much of a proletarian in practice. I always longed for the day when I'd be able to move out of London and return to my suburban roots."

"I'm glad you decided to return to them with me," said Carmel, offering me one of her most endearing smiles, such as subsumed a wealth of fond memories. "Strange how you still retain the logic of your urban exile."

"Yes," I agreed. "But once one has attained to the Truth, no matter how painfully or against one's deepest wishes, one can't very well refute it thereafter. That's why, despite my admiration for certain aspects of Vera Alder's book, I was unable to subscribe to its central arguments. Believe me, there are quite a number of bourgeois intellectuals who would profit from a lengthy spell in the city! As a rule, they live according to their suburban or rural lights, without realizing just how dim such lights can really be! One would have to live a long while in the city to acquire an inkling of the distinction between those lower, bourgeois lights and these higher, proletarian ones. And live there, I might add, as a superman rather than as a quasi-superman with a fundamentally feminine psyche. I wouldn't want to discriminate between men and women, Carmel, but it's impossible, in matters of literary taste, for a free-electron equivalent not to discriminate against a quasi-electron equivalent. We must attend to the higher and more truthful writings. They must content themselves, for the most part, with the lower, largely illusory writings appropriate to their mental level."

Carmel smiled but said nothing, and I concluded that our discussion was at an end.

LONDON 1982 (Revised 2011)

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