A Voyage to Arcturus

<i>[Original review, Dec 10 2008]</i><br /><br />Apparently David Lindsay said once that he would never be famous, but that as long as our civilisation endured, at least one person a year would read him. I think he was probably right. This is not a well-written book, and there is very little character development - but it is full of amazing, larger-than-life ideas, and some of it will stick in your mind for ever. At least it has in mine, and looking at the other reviews I think a fair number of other people felt similarly. When I read <a href="https://goodreads.com/author/show/3618.Philip_Pullman" title="Philip Pullman" rel="noopener">Philip Pullman</a>'s <a href="https://goodreads.com/book/show/18116.His_Dark_Materials__His_Dark_Materials__1_3_" title="His Dark Materials (His Dark Materials #1-3) by Philip Pullman" rel="noopener"> His Dark Materials</a> earlier this year, I had a feeling that it reminded me of Voyage... and after poking about on Google for a bit, I was interested to find an interview where Pullman said Lindsay was indeed one of the people who had influenced him most. So if you like Pullman, that might be a reason to check this out.<br /><br />Like Pullman, Lindsay is interested in the really Big Ideas. Who are we, what is the point of life, is there a god, does he care about us? That sort of thing. He presents his very unusual take on it in the form of an allegory, a sort of Pilgrim's Progress on acid. Here's how it starts. The hero arrives on a planet which I think is supposed to be orbiting the star Arcturus, but this is where any pretense at mainstream science-fiction is abandoned. He finds he's grown a tentacle-like thing, which sprouts out of his chest, and is capable of spreading warm, fuzzy feelings towards anyone it touches. If I remember right, it's called a <i>magn</i> (like "magnanimous", I suppose). But if you now think that Lindsay's message is all sweetness and light, you are about as wrong as it's possible to be. Next thing we know, his <i>magn</i> has become a tough third arm, which can reach out towards other people and suck the life from their bodies. And the book's barely got warmed up yet.<br /><br />It's uneven, and some bits make more sense than others, but no one else has written anything quite like it. And even if you don't agree at all with the ending, it's extremely memorable. <b>Is</b> that what life's really about? Damned if I know. But Lindsay's answer makes at least as much sense as most of the mainstream ones, and it's refreshingly simple.<br />_____________________________<br /><i>[Update, Nov 2 2022]</i><br /><br />Rereading this directly after Proust was painful, but it was also very useful. Proust is utterly convincing when he explains that style is everything. Lindsay seems to have no style and not care how ugly his prose is. But all the same, many people agree that his book is strangely fascinating.<br /><br />Enough clues, figure it out for yourself!<br />_____________________________<br /><i>[Update, Nov 3 2022]</i><br /><br />I couldn't resist the temptation to check out <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_aQ_WA38ow" rel="nofollow noopener">the 1971 movie</a>, which redefines my idea of zero-budget and combines elements from, inter alia, <i>One Million Years B.C.</i>, <i>The Revenge of Fu Manchu</i> and <i>The Seventh Seal</i>. Watch at own risk.

This is one of the most incredibly eccentric, surprising and challenging philosophical fantasy novels ever written!<br /><br />The Scottish writer David Lindsay died in 1945. He is usually regarded as a fantasy writer. While he wrote a great deal, most of his works have been hard to find, out-of-print, neglected. Voyage to Arcturus is the exception, having become a bit of a cult classic and reprinted again and again in paperback editions.<br /><br />The title suggests science fiction. It is not. Arcturus is a device, a metaphysical stage, arrived at through mediumship, not spacecraft. The book is a modern Pilgrim's Progress, a moral parable, a snare and, until the last few pages, a deception.<br /><br />Lindsay was, at best, a pedestrian writer, incapable of conrete characterization. In Voyage, however, there are no persons in any ordinary sense after the first few pages. The characters are principles, points of view. The path of the protagonist is transformative and darkly revelatory.<br /><br />One is reminded of another metaphysical fiction, another modern Pilgrim's Progress, viz. C.S. Lewis' Perelandra trilogy. But while Lewis is defending the establishment, retelling the biblical tale in modern terms, Lindsay, after exploring it rather convincingly, demolishes it and replaces it with something like a Teutonic hero's gnostic saga.<br /><br />When first finishing this book, I was profoundly upset, shaken to the core of my unthinking adolescent presuppositions. I very, very rarely reread a book, especially a mere fiction. This, I reread immediately and, then, again, years later.<br /><br />Students of dualistic "gnostic" systems will find this book interesting as a modern, and apparently quite sincere, take on a belief system quite common in the antique and early Christian worlds.

<br><img src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1676120883i/33930743._SX540_.jpg" class="gr-hostedUserImg" loading="lazy"><br><br><i>A Voyage to Arcturus</i> - a one-of-a-kind hallucinogenic trippy combination of epic, myth, science fiction, fantasy, Gnostic cosmology and metaphysical speculation written not in the swinging sixties but in 1920 by a British author traumatized by trench warfare during World War 1.<br><br>David Lindsay writes in a style having more in common with tales of gods and heroes from Greek mythology or the Norse epic of Sigurd the Dragon Slayer than Anthony Trollope or H.G. Wells (understatement) but this strange novel has been admired by and has influenced an entire list of authors, J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis among their number. This to say, if you enjoy tales that stretch your imagination, <i>A Voyage to Arcturus</i> is most definitely your book.<br><br>Following oddball events during a séance and weird space travel (the softest of soft sf), a giant burly man named Maskull finds himself alone on the distant planet of Tormance. Earthing Maskull retains his full identity from beginning to end but, as he moves from land to land, region to region in Tormance, his body and even his mind will undergo stunning changes, beginning with a curious knob on his forehead, two larger knobs on each side of his neck, and a thin, soft, flexible tentacle the size of his arm in the middle of his chest. <br><br>And deep into his journey, once in another land, we read: “Maskull found that his new organs had no independent function of their own, but only intensified and altered his other senses. When he used his eyes, ears, or nostrils, the same objects presented themselves to him, but his judgment concerning them was different. Previously all external things had existed for him; now he existed for them. According to whether they served his purpose or were in harmony with his nature, or otherwise, they had been pleasant or painful. Now these words “pleasure” and “pain” simply had no meaning.”<br><br>Again, Maskull is always Maskull, however the basic way he views himself and this new world will alter in significant, sometimes eerie, ways. Certainly among the most captivating aspects of the novel.<br><br>Tormance is one weird planet orbiting Arcturus, a binary star with two suns, smaller blue Alppain and the scorching rays of giant white Branchspell. If you like bizarre flora and fauna peppering your speculative fiction, you're in for an especially treat. The first land Maskull encounters features sand the color of scarlet, bushes with black stems and purple leaves, a cup-shaped mountain, and small trees in various freakish shapes bearing hard, bright blue, apple-sized fruit. Further on, in another land, Mascall joins his guide at the time, one of a string of guides during his outer space odyssey, riding a shrowk, a bright blue flying creature with a long, snakelike body and ten reptilian legs terminating in yellow fins which act as wings. <br><br><img src="https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1676581471i/33948416._SY540_.jpg" class="gr-hostedUserImg" loading="lazy"><br><br>And there's more, much more – to list several: a vast expanse where crags and mountains constantly sink down or shoot up thousands of feet at a time, a valley so overflowing with energy that new forms of plant and animal life pop into existence as fully formed adults, a sea whose water varies in density (in some spots Maskull must swim and some others where he can walk on the water's surface).<br><br>Yet David Lindsey's novel is hardly a mere pulp adventure yarn. We're face to face with the big questions: What is the nature of reality? Is what I'm experiencing an authentic world or a lesser, flawed version of some purer, truer realm? How should we act? What is the nature of evil? How pervasive is the power of love? What constitutes beauty? Where does life come from and where is life going? How do we know what we know?<br><br>Such questions are laced throughout <i>A Voyage to Arcturus</i>. As we travel forth with Maskull and other of Lindsay's characters, we're given a deeper appreciation of what it can mean to be alive, to be a human wrestling with Eros and Thanatos, love and death, no matter in what body or on what planet.<br><br>---------<br><br>Coda: This surely is one of the most complex, convoluted novels of the 20th century - in many ways possessing similarities to those Gnostic gospels found in Nag Hammadi in 1945. My sense is <i>Voyage</i> is an expression of what Europe went through in WWI, forever changing the culture and the character of experience. Just think, not that long before 1920, Anthony Trollope wrote <i>Barchester Towers</i> in 1857. With a bit of humor, I can just imagine what would happen if Mr Septimus Harding or Archdeacon Grantly or Mr. Slope found themselves on the distant planet of Tormance. The question of who will be chosen to be Warden of Hiram's Hospital would be many worlds away.

A spiritual quest, more than a science fiction novel - much, much more. The protagonist, Maskull (and, ultimately, Nightspore) take the hero's journey not through the underworld, but across the planet Tormance as it orbits the twin stars of Arcturus. He encounters several stock characters in his journey, each of which introduces him to a new perspective or philosophy, sometimes with all forthrightness, sometimes in spite of themselves and their masks. Through it all, Maskull seems to be coming to some sort of conclusion, but the clouds of the different philosophies make it difficult to see where he is headed (in fact, he doesn't know where he is headed, though he gains more confidence in his abilities as he travels further and further north). In the end . . . well, about the end.<br /><br />Three years ago, I watched my father die. He had recently had surgery for a tumor in his sinuses. The cancer had wrapped around his optic nerve and his eye had to be removed. It was also revealed in the surgery that part of his frontal lobe was occluded and would need to be removed. At this same time, my mother had been hospitalized when her kidney's failed. To keep a four-month long saga of trips in and out of various hospitals, of hopes gleaned, then dashed to the ground, my mother passed away in February of 2018 and my father died in May of the same year. I was there for both instances because I had been the one to take each of them off of life support. Mom passed away after about 10 minutes of being off of life support - truth be told, she was practically dead when we made the decision to take her off. Dad's cancer had invaded his brain and it was riddled with tumors. He was inoperable and wasn't thinking straight because part of his brain had been removed during the initial operation. He was not himself. Dad had always been a highly intelligent individual and I'm fairly certain (he couldn't talk because of the tracheostomy that had to be given to him earlier) that he was in a living hell with part of his thinking machinery, so to speak, removed. It was inevitable that the cancer was going to kill him. There was no stopping it. So, after talking with my wife and a few very close friends and my kids, and after a lot of soul-searching and prayer, we decided to take him off life support.<br /><br />He lived for two full weeks. I was with him every day, often spending the night in his room with him.<br /><br />Losing my Mom and Dad was one of the most painful events of my entire life. It still hurts like hell just thinking about it now. Was it right to take them off of life support? I think so. But having to make that decision cut a deep scar in my heart. It will get better, it has gotten better, but it will never fully heal. I've learned to embrace the pain.<br /><br />As I read <i>A Voyage to Arcturus</i>, I thought of my father, lying in the hospital bed conscious, but deteriorating, over the course of two weeks. By all rights, he shouldn't have lived that long. Dehydration should have killed him in a few days. But my Dad is one stubborn man, and full of fight. I often wonder what he was thinking, what he was even <i>capable</i> of thinking at that time. I know he knew I was there and I know he knew that I loved him and that he loved me. Beyond that, I don't know what was in his head. I suspect that in his painkiller-addled moments of delirium (which were far more frequent than his cogent moments) he was taking a sort of journey himself, maybe something similar to Maskull's journey. In the end, I think they might have come to the same conclusions, which you are free to learn for yourself.<br /><br />Now, this book, while it tugged at my emotions, is anything but emotional. It is, in a word, flat. The characters are more "everyman" than anything. Their antagonists (and guides) represent ideas, not real people. I can see how this would be tedious to a lot of readers, and the reviews I've read bear this out. The writing is also clumsy and, at times, very stilted. <br /><br />But for me, rather than criticize the surface appearances of the novel (it is, from a writerly point of view, ugly), I read with my heart, as well as my brain, and was put into a quite contemplative frame of mind. I reflected on the Tarot, of all things. If the Three of Swords could be expanded into a novel, then this might be it. Do I understand all the battling philosophies? No. Do I understand all the symbolism? No. But I understand the <i>feeling</i> that Lindsay was, especially at the end, trying to get across. <br /><br />I know Krang, and I know him well. You'll know what I mean when you reach the conclusion . . .<br /><br />. . . <i>The</i> Conclusion . . .

So, I picked this book up because it is on my Inklings reading list – in other words on the list of books I’ve kept that, according to their own accounts, cultivated the imagination of the Inklings: CS Lewis, JRR Tolkien, Owen Barfield, Charles Williams, Dorothy Sayers, et all. This book especially has been noted as a primary inspiration for Lewis’ Out of the Silent Planet. Now that this is out of the way…<br /><br />Arcturus was published in 1920 less than a decade after Edgar Rice Burroughs John Carter of Mars was first introduced to the world and feels very like a poor man’s version of that more cohesive tale. It has been (falsely) labeled as the first science fiction novel – I mean that’s just rubbish – and, by some very delusional individuals, the greatest novel of the 20th century. *insert blank stare*<br /><br />Let’s say the good things first. Reading this is akin to reading George MacDonald’s Lilith (not surprising perhaps since MacDonald’s influence on Lindsay has been admitted). If you know going in that the protagonist (and whether or not he is the actually the protag is very debatable by story’s end) is going on a journey through things which have very little to do with one another, then you will be more prepared. The initial part – perhaps the first 25% - leads you to believe something very different. The opening scenes are electric, atmospheric, and exciting, in the vein of H.G. Wells. The first few encounters on the distant planet feel as though they are establishing important characters and a definitive trajectory. Don’t be fooled. They aren’t. At the 50% mark, you find yourself wondering if the author was dabbling in opiates while writing (like I said, it is akin to reading George MacDonald). <br /><br />The novel’s greatest strength is the imaginative landscapes and creatures “Maskull” meets, both on earth and in that distant quadrant of the universe. While Lindsay seems unable to imagine any creature that isn’t somehow and in some way humanoid, there are stunning landscapes and plants and tectonic activity enough to make your head spin. At one point, the main character floats for some time on a sea plant tree thing that feels like a combination of Tolkien’s Treebeard and Meerkat Island from Life of Pi. In that scene, like many in the book, Lindsay hints at things around his character, that these things are going to turn out to be important, and then he abandons them. This, in fact, is his M.O. throughout the tale and eventually, you tire of feeling like you’ve been written yet another bad check. <br /><br />Haha. Those were the good things. Now to the “bad” things. The names for things in this book are some of the weirdest and most ridiculous I’ve ever read. Lindsay is just terrible at naming things. At one point I found myself wondering if he had just randomly opened a dictionary and put his fingers on two different words (any words) to put them together to form a name. I mean – I can do that. Watch. Boobticket. Dogbutton. Drunknoodle. It’s a bit like that. I really just had to let it go so that it didn’t drive me crazy. On to other things. This novel has been described as a combination of Calvinist theology and Nietzschen philosophy. Did you just shake your head? Because I did. On hearing that, (presumably) one immediately questions how these two wildly opposite philosophies could possibly coexist. The answer is, well, they can’t. I have rarely read a novel in which an author so strikes me as being both absolutely sure of where he is going, and as confused as a toucan in Antarctica. The experience, I admit, is not unlike reading Nietzsche himself and his constant need to be undefinable (yet talk like he knows exactly where he is and what he is doing). I’ve not yet read Zarathustra, but know enough about it to wonder if its influence is felt here in Maskull’s encounters with interplanetary gods and subjects. In a wild weird way, like Nietzsche, he even seems determined to make no sense – as if that is the point – and it very well may be. If that’s the case – Lovecraft performed “chaos” so much better. (And whee, what fun we could have with that topic on another day!) The alleged Calvinist influence can only be seen (by me, at least) perhaps in the underlying fatalistic traits that sometimes constrain portions of that theology. Lindsay was raised in a Calvinist background according to one biographer. Perhaps researching that tidbit a bit further would prove helpful.<br /><br />In the meantime, my impression of David Lindsay is that he was a very confused man, and not far from the place Nietzsche ended up at the end of his own confused life. The whole experience reminded me of GK Chesterton’s chapter on lunacy in his book, Orthodoxy. I’m paraphrasing here, but he essentially says, “If you want to find a man who really believes in himself, check out an insane asylum.” This sentiment perfectly sums up my impression of The Voyage to Arcturus, in that it is pretending to be a thing that it isn’t – perhaps it is really wanting you to think that it knows where it’s going – but in the end, it really, really doesn’t. Proof in the pudding for me is the number of readers who admit absolute confusion while reading this book, rating it as low as ratings go, while, on the other hand, you have the eccentric few who give it five stars for being so enlightening that they can’t possibly explain why. A pretentious trademark if ever there was one. For me, a piece of art may certainly be hard to understand, but not impossible – especially if the list of confused includes the artist himself. If you can find enlightenment in this book, then explain yourself, man, or I don’t believe you. And before you think I’m being difficult, Einstein wouldn’t either. That said, the “punchline” of this book has been explained (always briefly) and it still doesn’t work. The punchline alone is made clear in the novel, but the “why” – the point – the remedy is completely absent. It feels a bit like watching a magician perform tricks in a mirror with the audience to his back.<br /><br />The wildly curious thing to me about the book is how much imaginative force CS Lewis drew from it (his Malacandra and Perelandra display extremely similar (not identical) imagery to Arcturus as do his characters of Ransom, Weston (the Unman), and Tinidril), while his own books seem to also undo and counteract the structure of Lindsay’s weird world. He has been quoted as saying some very specific things about Nietzschen philosophy that I now wonder about as being perhaps provoked by Acturus’ psychedelic conclusions. In short, his Space Trilogy really seemed to be an effort to *fix* this story (as well as draw down the excitement from the John Carter series and play a more medieval tune). While I’m not really a fan of this novel, I admit I have it to thank for the pact Lewis and Tolkien made soonafter to both write science fiction. Lewis finished his, Tolkien started, but never published. Nevertheless, both Lindsay and Lewis did create some of the most fantastic images of foreign planets ever to appear in stories. Together, they provoked our imaginations to let go of earth entirely and imagine wholly new worlds – in Lindsay’s case, one of chaos, and in Lewis’ one of resounding love and design.<br />

Without the existence of this seminal work of spiritualized science fiction, C S. Lewis would not have written The Space Trilogy. <br />I found this wonderful anomaly to be quite startling, and highly visual. If you are attracted to these things, seek this one out.

Loses a star solely through my inability to understand what exactly transpired within and, with the passing of the years, my inability to recollect sufficiently to ponder it anew. Like everything truly excellent, it begins with a séance and an assortment of oddball characters ere the reader finds himself with the protagonist, Maskull, newly awoken upon the gravity-juiced planet of Tormance and, thus, in orbit about the plasmatic sphere known as Arcturus. It is at this point that the infamous <i>Magn</i> first makes its tentacular appearance, and the remainder becomes a pleasingly puzzling and puzzlingly pleasing extraterrestrial excursion in which the Shake 'n Bake™ with which an individual existence has been coated becomes eaten/removed/flaked through conscious concentration/collision/recollection/contemplation in order to expose the immaterial heart of true being pumping in metaphysical rhythm within. Or something like that. My abridged take? If God had deigned to laden men with a penis sharing the girth, flexibility, and tubularity of an elephant's trunk, we'd all be taking semen showers and there'd be a lot more gardens in the world.

I don't think I can write properly and it may be entirely because of reading this "dizzlingly" piece of art.<br /><br />I've not read anything like it before and I tend to doubt there is anything like it out there. However, like Maskull &amp; Nightspore, I will spend my life "out there" pursuing it--whatever "it" is--hopefully I'm longer for this world. Though in this hope I sometimes falter. <br />"Arcturus" a pitch-perfect "something". <br />It is a great lumbering, spiritually forgetful romp! I believe I have heard it referred to as an amalgam of disparate religious doctrines, rituals, etc.<br />This book surges while disorientating, disorientating while it shows you glorious unknown things. <br />The book itself is such a rich fantasy, perhaps even an esoteric allegory, as some have suggested, but the writing is working seamlessly to hide all the cogs about how its trick of credibility was accomplished. The one thing that struck me were the characters' wonderfully ridiculous* names, which you would think would completely undercut the power of the story somehow and force it to seem all at least a little bit silly, however this is not the case. While brimming with symbolism, madness---there is even a touch of humor in the symbolism and story: Haunte's "masculine stones" the conceit of which made me giddy in its sheer audacity. His stones help propel his craft: now isn't that cute (and so true!).<br /><br />It is a fully-realized world and I can't help but wonder if it influenced Jack Vance's enjoyable and highly detailed entertainments. "Arcturus" obviously has bigger fish to fry than simply entertaining you. It stimulates the senses...more than just the five, if you possess a sorb. Despite the comparisons, mine to Vance, others to Bunyan, it is not only a good novel of its kind: it is the only novel of its kind.<br /><br />Tentative conclusions<br />Conclusion: This book is a "more than human" flight of fancy. Further Conclusion: David Lindsay was obviously not a man of this world. <br /><br /><br /><br />*Further note on Lindsay's "Arcturian" names: Lindsay was perhaps referencing the improbable names of the heroes and villains in the pulp novels of his days while twisting them into transcending such humble origins=charging them with somehow mythic significance; WOMBFLASH FOREST / FLASH GORDON / GORGON. In other terms, the names, like the story itself, are oddly harmonious hybrids that against all odds work.

Arcturus’a Yolculuk, hikâyeciliğin ve hikâyelerle mest olmuş/olan insanoğlunun zihninin ayartıcı ve aldatıcı yönünü göstermek için onun silahlarını ona karşı kullanıyor.<br /><br />Yapı ve ilerleyiş tanıdık; dil akıcı ve sade. Yalnız, alışılagelenin aksine hoşnutluk ve tatmin duygusu esirgenmekte bizden. Tüm ana hikâye ve alt hikâyeler, zaman mekân algısı olarak ileriye doğru akarken düşünsel ve ahlaki anlamda geriye gidiş yaşanıyor. Olaylar düşünsel ve duygusal anlamda, yeryüzündeki bezmişlikten (dünya) cennetteymiş hissine (Tormance’taki ilk gün), oradan da bilinmezliğin hissettirdiği tekinsiz ve çaresizliğe devşiriliyor sırasıyla.<br /><br />Mitsel anlatının, kahramanın omzu ardından bize bakıp seslenen tarzı, gene ders vermeye yarıyor. Ama bu sefer farklı bir ders: Hayatımızı sarıp sarmalayan mitselliğin ayartıcı doğasını ifşa. İfşanın düzgünce gerçekleştirilebilmesinde, sahne ve başrolde değişikliğe gidilmiş. İdeal kahramanın yerini, ona özenen sıradan insan Maskull alıyor. Bu sıradan insanın çıkacağı yolculuğun geçtiği Tormance dünyası, kendi evren bilimi ve varoluşuna mantıklı açıklamalar getirmeye çalışan Tormance sakinlerince kendi dünyamızın tarihi-sosyo-felsefi özleri temelinde yansımasına dönüşüyor.<br /><br />Tormance gezegeninin gerçeklik düzleminde, kâinatı yaratan gücün varlığının bilinmesi ve hatta bundan yararlanılması söz konusu. Doğrudan veya dolaylı olarak, tanrılar, peygamberler, kahramanlar ve büyücüler ile karşılaşılabilmesinin yüksek ihtimali; fantastiğin soyutu somut hale getirip, geçmişi şimdiye taşıma özelliğinin neticesiyle imkân buluyor.<br /><br />Fantastik yanı sayesinde, dünya tarihimizin her noktasında yer almış ve almaya devam eden inanç, fikir ve felsefenin esas özlerinin Tormance dünyasının karakterleriyle beraber kucaklanabilme fırsatı yaratılıyor. Maskull (ve onun yolculuğuna tanıklık eden bizlerin) kavram ve olgular ile daha rahat temas etmesi sağlanıyor. Ardından onlara şüpheyle bakılmasını da elbet.<br /><br />Teolojik bakış açısı sırasıyla tek tanrılı, çok tanrılı ve daha da gerisini kapsayacak temellere oturtulmuş vaziyette. Şeytan kavramının, dünyayı yaratımındaki rolünden bahseden mitlere kadar giden kökleri ve tanrının adı ve dünya ile olan ilişkisinin devamlı farklı yorumlanması; inanç tarihi ile azıcık ta olsa haşır neşir olmuşsanız, pekte yabancısı olmayacağınız konular (özellikle ikincisi için sadece yaşadığımız dünyaya bir bakış atmak bile yeterli).<br /><br />Bizim dünyamıza kıyasla her yönüyle hayaller âlemi gibi duran Tormance’ın bilinçli varlıkları, içinde yaşadıkları rüya âlemini kendi iç dinamiklerinde yorumlayıp akılcılaştırıyorlar. Tormance – evren – bilimi diyebileceğim mantıki disiplinlerden yararlanarak, yaşadıkları evreni belli sebep-sonuç ilişkilerine oturtmaya gayret gösteriliyor devamlı. Tormance – evren – bilimiyle üretilen yeni duyu organlarının olması, nesne ve duyular üzerinden dünyayı algılama konusuna kafa patlatmaya yetecek kadar malzeme sunuyor. Fantastik ile bilimkurgu arasındaki ilişkinin bu örneğiyle duyu organlarını aşıp, yazılı ve sözlü olanın iletişim nesnesi olarak ki varlıklarını hatırlatmakla kalınmıyor hatta. Şu zamanlarda, akıllı telefon ve internetle olan bağlarımızdan dolayı bizlerin durumunu da düşündürttü beni.<br /><br />Arcturus’a Yolculuk, okuru yorabilecek beklentiler döngüsüne sokuyor bilinçli olarak. Kendini bir sevdirip bir soğutarak, aslında, mitsel döngünün ayartıcı kumpaslarına karşı belleğimizi tetikte olmaya zorlamakta. Bile isteye okuru kendinden soğutacak hatta anlaşılmaz olduğunu düşündürecek hamlelerde bulunuluyor. Tormance’ın, kurallarını ana karakter Maskull’a kabul ettirdiği gibi, kitap da okurun beklentilerine kolay kolay teslim olmadan kendi kurallarını dayatıyor.<br /><br />Geleneksel kahramanlık destanı ile dilinin kemiği olmadan her şeye sataşan hicvin ortak noktası ne olabilir? “Kaçış edebiyatı” tanımlamasındaki “kaçış”ın kendi köşesinde takıldığı düşünülürken, hayatımızın her yanına fark ettirmeden sinmiş olabilir mi? Arcturus’a Yolculuk’u okuduktan sonra aklıma takılan birtakım sorular bunlardı. Ve bu sorular, soruları sordurtan ve cevapların kesinliğine güvenmeyen kendisi tarafından yanıtlar buldurdu; ironik geleceği gibi.<br /><br />Geçerli sebeplerden dolayı, okura dost canlısı davranıp hemen her şeyini ortaya saçmayan yolculuğu beğenen nice büyük yazara hak vermek gerek. Ömürlerini kurmaca oluşturmaya adamış isimler, onunla alakadar olarak kitapta keşfettikleri bizler içinde önem taşıyor.<br /><br />1920’de yayımlansa da, insanoğlunun var olduğu süre boyunca tali yollara saparak uzaklaştığı varoluş yolculuğuyla alakalı olarak tazeliğini yitirmeyen ve acı verici tahlillerde bulunuyor yazar David Lindsay, Arcturus’a Yolculuk’ta.<br /><br /><b><i>- Cemalettin SİPAHİOĞLU</i><br /><br />İncelemenin tamamı için:</b> <a target="_blank" rel="noopener nofollow" href="http://kayiprihtim.com/inceleme/arcturusa-yolculuk-ah-o-muthis-dus-makinesi-yok-mu/">http://kayiprihtim.com/inceleme/arctu...</a>

<i> <b> <blockquote> "Leave the past alone, it cannot be reshaped. The future alone is ours. It starts fresh and clean from this very minute." </blockquote> </b> </i><br />Το "Ταξίδι στον Αρκτούρο" κυκλοφόρησε το 1920 οπότε δεν περίμενα να διαβάσω για διαστημόπλοια και λέιζερ στο διάστημα. Ήταν ακριβώς αυτό που περίμενα να είναι, ένα μυθιστόρημα με φιλοσοφικό χαρακτήρα που όμως δεν του λείπει η φαντασία. Ο Λίντσεϊ μας περιγράφει το ταξίδι του Μάσκαλ, τον θαυμαστό και περίεργο κόσμο του Αρκτούρου, τους ξεχωριστούς κατοίκους του, όλα μέσα από το πρίσμα της επιστημονικής φαντασίας αλλά επικεντρώνεται στις σχέσεις των ατόμων, τις σκέψεις τους, τις πράξεις και τις συνέπειες αυτών, κάτι που του δίνει έντονη φιλοσοφική χροιά. Συχνά φέρνει σε πρώτο πλάνο τη θέση της γυναίκας στην κοινωνία (έστω αυτήν του Αρκτούρου) και ακόμη δεν είμαι απόλυτα σίγουρη ποια είναι η άποψη του συγγραφέα ή τουλάχιστον ποια είναι αυτή που προβάλλεται μέσω του μυθιστορήματος. Ένα μικρό plus η πανέμορφη έκδοση του Αιόλου :)