Brave New World


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SQUAT grey building of only
thirty-four stories. Over
the main entrance the
words, CENTRAL LONDON
HATCHERY AND CONDITIONI
NG CENTRE, and, in a
STABILITY.
The enormous room on the
ground floor faced towards
the north. Cold for all the su
mmer beyond the panes, for
all the tropical heat of the room
itself, a harsh thin light
glared through the windows, hungrily seeking some
draped lay figure, some pallid
shape of academic goose-
flesh, but finding only the glass and nickel and bleakly
shining porcelain of a labora
tory. Wintriness responded to
wintriness. The overalls of the workers were white, their
hands gloved with a pale
light was frozen, dead, a ghost. Only from the yellow
barrels of the microscopes did it borrow a certain rich and
living substance, lying along
the polished tubes like
butter, streak after luscious st
reak in long recession down
"And this," said the Direct
or opening the door, "is the
Bent over their instruments
were plunged, as the Director of Hatcheries and
Conditioning entered the room
, in the scarcely breathing
silence, the absent-minded, so
liloquizing hum or whistle,
of absorbed concentration. A troop of newly arrived
students, very young, pi
nk and callow, followed
nervously, rather abjectly, at the Director's heels. Each of
them carried a notebook, in
which, whenever the great
man spoke, he desperately scribbled. Straight from the
horse's mouth. It was a rare privilege. The D. H. C. for
Central London always made a point of personally
conducting his new students round the various
departments.
"Just to give you a general
idea," he would explain to
them. For of course some sort of general idea they must
have, if they were to do th
eir work intelligentlythough
as little of one, if they were to be good and happy
instead of thirty-seven. Full
blood heat sterilizes." Rams
But one of the students was fo
ol enough to
"My good boy!" The Director
wheeled sharply round on
him. "Can't you see? Can't you see?" He raised a hand;
his expression was solemn. "Bokanovsky's Process is one
of the major instruments of social stability!"
Standard men and women; in uniform batches. The
whole of a small factory staffe
d with the products of a
twins over a quarter of a ce
nturywhat would be the use
of that?"
Obviously, no use at all. But Podsnap's Technique had
immensely accelerated the process of ripening. They
could make sure of at least a hundred and fifty mature
eggs within two years. Fertilize and bokanovskifyin
decanted or in embryo. And still going strong. We'll beat
"Brought up to date every morning."
"On the basis of which they make their calculations."
"So many individuals, of such
and such quality," said Mr.
"Promptly," repeated Mr.
Foster. "If you knew the
amount of overtime I had to put in after the last
Japanese earthquake!" He lau
ghed goodhumouredly and
shook his head.
"The Predestinators send
in their figures to the
"And the bottles come in here to be predestined in
"Embryos are like photograph
film," said Mr. Foster
waggishly, as he pushed op
en the second door. "They
And in effect the sultry darkness into which the students
now followed him was visi
ble and crimson, like the
darkness of closed eyes on a summer's afternoon. The
bulging flanks of row on rece
ding row and tier above tier
of bottles glinted with innumerable rubies, and among
the rubies moved the dim
red spectres of men and
women with purple eyes and
all the symptoms of lupus.
"Give them a few figures, Mr.
Foster," said the Director,
Mr. Foster was only too happy to
and sixty-seventh morning,
daylight in the Decanting
"But in the interval," Mr. Foster concluded, "we've
managed to do a lot to them
. Oh, a very great deal." His
laugh was knowing and triumphant.
"That's the spirit I like," sa
id the Director once more.
the system of labellinga T for the males, a circle for the
females and for those who were destined to become
black on a white ground.
"For of course," said Mr. Fost
er, "in the vast majority of
cases, fertility is merely a nui
sance. One fertile ovary in
twelve hundredthat would really be quite sufficient for
our purposes. But we want to
have a good choice. And of
course one must always have
an enormous margin of
moved two paces down the line and began the same
process on the next pump.
"Reducing the number of revolutions per minute," Mr.
Foster explained. "The surr
ogate goes round slower;
therefore passes through the
lung at longer intervals;
therefore gives the embryo
g an embryo below par."
Again he rubbed his hands.
"But why do you want to k
eep the embryo below par?"
"Ass!" said the Director, brea
king a long silence. "Hasn't
it occurred to you that an Ep
silon embryo must have an
an Epsilon heredity?"
It evidently hadn't occurred to him. He was covered with
confusion.
"The lower the caste," said Mr. Foster, "the shorter the
oxygen." The first organ a
ffected was the brain. After
twenty. Hence, of course
, that fruit of delayed
"But in Epsilons," said Mr.
Foster very justly, "we don't
of tunnel, interrupted here an
d there by openings two or
"What are you giving them?"
asked Mr. Foster, making
his tone very professional.
"Oh, the usual typhoid and sleeping sickness."
But the Director had looked at his watch. "Ten to three,"
he said. "No time for the inte
llectual embryos, I'm afraid.
We must go up to the Nurser
ies before the children have
finished their afternoon sleep."
Mr. Foster was disappointed. "At least one glance at the
Decanting Room," he pleaded.
"Very well then." The Director
smiled indulgently. "Just
OSTER was left in the Decanting Room. The D.H.C.
and his students stepped into
the nearest lift and were
INFANT NURSERIES. NEO-
PAVLOVIAN CONDITIONING
ROOMS, announced the notice board.
The Director opened a door.
They were in a large bare
room, very bright and sunny; for the whole of the
southern wall was a single wi
ndow. Half a dozen nurses,
all exactly alike (a Bokanovsky
Group, it was evident)
"Put them down on the floor."
The infants were unloaded.
"Now turn them so that th
ey can see the flowers and
Turned, the babies at once fe
ll silent, then began to crawl
towards those clusters of sleek
colours, those shapes so
gay and brilliant on the white
pages. As they approached,
the sun came out of a momentary eclipse behind a cloud.
The roses flamed up as though with a sudden passion
from within; a new and profou
nd significance seemed to
suffuse the shining pages of th
e books. From the ranks of
the crawling babies came little squeals of excitement,
gurgles and twitterings of pleasure.
The Director rubbed his hands. "Excellent!" he said. "It
might almost have been done on purpose."
The swiftest crawlers were already at their goal. Small
hands reached out uncertainly, touched, grasped,
"And now," the Director sh
outed (for the noise was
deafening), "now we proceed to rub in the lesson with a
He waved his hand again, and the Head Nurse pressed a
second lever. The screaming of the babies suddenly
"They'll grow up with what the psychologists used to call
an 'instinctive' hatred of books and flowers. Reflexes
unalterably conditioned. They
'll be safe from books and
botany all their lives." The Dire
ctor turned to his nurses.
Still yelling, the khaki babies
were loaded on to their
dumb-waiters and wheeled out, leaving behind them the
most welcome silence.
One of the students held up
his hand; and though he
couldn't have lower-cast
people wasting the Community's time over books, and
that there was always the risk
The problem was to find an economically sounder reason
for consuming transport th
an a mere affection for
primroses and landscapes. It was duly found.
"We condition the masses to hate the country," concluded
the Director. "But simultaneously we condition them to
love all country sports. At th
e same time, we see to it
that all country sports shall
entail the use of elaborate
apparatus. So that they co
nsume manufactured articles
"I see," said the student, and was silent, lost in
There was a silence; then,
clearing his throat, "Once
upon a time," the Director began, "while our Ford was
still on earth, there was a little boy called Reuben
Rabinovitch. Reuben was the child of Polish-speaking
parents."
The Director interrupted himself. "You know what Polish
"Like French and German," added another student,
officiously showing
There was an uneasy silence. Several of the boys
blushed. They had not yet lea
rned to draw the significant
but often very fine distinct
"Well, then they were the parentsI mean, not the
babies, of course; the othe
r ones." The poor boy was
overwhelmed with confusion.
"In brief," the Director summed up, "the parents were the
father and the moth
er." The smut that was really science
fell with a crash into the bo
ys' eye-avoiding silence.
"Mother," he repeated loudly rubbing in the science; and,
leaning back in his chair, "The
se," he said gravely, "are
unpleasant facts; I know it. But then most historical facts
He returned to Little Reuben
to Little Reuben, in whose
room, one evening, by an
oversight, his father and
mother (crash, crash!) ha
ppened to leave the radio
("For you must remember that in those days of gross
viviparous reproduction, childr
en were always brought up
by their parents and not in St
While the child was asleep,
a broadcast programme from
London suddenly started to co
me through; and the next
morning, to the astonishment
of his crash and crash (the
more daring of the boys ventur
ed to grin at one another),
Little Reuben woke up repeating word for word a long
lecture by that curious old wr
iter ("one of the very few
whose works have been permit
ted to come down to us"),
George Bernard Shaw, who was speaking, according to a
about his own genius. To
Little Reuben's wink and snigger, this lecture was, of
course, perfectly incomprehens
ible and, imagining that
their child had suddenly gone mad, they sent for a
doctor. He, fortunately, unders
tood English, recognized
the discourse as that whic
h Shaw had broadcasted the
previous evening, realized th
e significance of what had
"The - Nile - is - the - longes
t - river - in - Africa - and -
the - second - in - le
ngth - of - all - the
- rivers - of - the
- globe ..." The words come
rushing out. "Although -
"The - Nile - is - the - longes
t - river - in - Africa - and -
"Then which river is the longest, Tommy?"
don't know," he howls.)
That howl, the Director made it plain, discouraged the
earliest investigators. The
experiments were abandoned.
No further attempt was made to teach children the length
of the Nile in their sleep. Qu
ite rightly. You can't learn a
science unless you know what it's all about.
"Whereas, if they'd only started on
education," said
students followed him, desperately scribbling as they
walked and all the way up in
the lift. "Moral education,
which ought never, in any circumstances, to be rational."
"Silence, silence," whispere
d a loud speaker as they
stepped out at the fourteen
th floor, and "Silence,
Fifty yards of tiptoeing brought them to a door which the
Director cautiously opened
. They stepped over the
threshold into the twilight
of a shuttered dormitory.
Eighty cots stood in a row
against the wall. There was a
sound of light regular breathing and a continuous
murmur, as of very faint voices remotely whispering.
A nurse rose as they ente
red and came to attention
before the Director.
"We had Elementary Sex for the first forty minutes," she
answered. "But now it's swit
ched over to Elementary
Class Consciousness."
The Director walked slowly
down the long line of cots.
Rosy and relaxed with sleep, eighty little boys and girls
lay softly breathing. Ther
e was a whisper under every
pillow. The D.H.C. halted an
d, bending over one of the
"Alpha children wear grey They work much harder than
we do, because they're so fr
ightfully clever. I'm really
Not so much like drops of water,
though water, it is true,
can wear holes in the hardes
t granite; rather, drops of
adhere, incrust, incorporate
themselves with what they fall on, till finally the rock is
UTSIDE, in the garden, it was playtime. Naked in the
warm June sunshine, six or
seven hundred little boys and
girls were running with shrill
yells over the lawns, or
playing ball games, or squatting silently in twos and
threes among the flowering shrubs. The roses were in
bloom, two nightingales solil
oquized in the boskage, a
cuckoo was just going out of tune among the lime trees.
The air was drowsy with
the murmur of bees and
helicopters.
The Director and his studen
ts stood for a short time
watching a game of Centrifugal Bumble-puppy. Twenty
children were grouped in a
circle round a chrome steel
tower. A ball thrown up so as
to land on the platform at
the top of the tower rolled down
into the interior, fell on a
rapidly revolving disk, was hurled through one or other of
the numerous apertures pierced in the cylindrical casing,
and had to be caught.
"Strange," mused the Direct
or, as they turned away,
"strange to think th
at even in Our Ford's day most games
were played without more apparatus than a ball or two
were playing, very gravely and with all the focussed
attention of scientists intent on a labour of discovery, a
rudimentary sexual game.
"Charming, charming!" the D.H.C. repeated
"Charming," the boys politely
agreed. But their smile was
rather patronizing. They ha
amusements too recently to be able to watch them now
without a touch of contempt.
Charming? but it was just a
"I always think," the Director was continuing in the same
rather maudlin tone, when he was interrupted by a loud
From a neighbouring shrubbery
emerged a nurse, leading
by the hand a small boy, wh
o howled as he went. An
anxious-looking little girl
"What's the matter?" asked the Director.
The nurse shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing much," she
answered. "It's just that this little boy seems rather
reluctant to join in the ordinary erotic play. I'd noticed it
once or twice before. And no
w again to-day. He started
"Honestly," put in the anxious-looking little girl, "I didn't
mean to hurt him or anything. Honestly."
"Of course you didn't, dear,"
said the nurse reassuringly.
"And so," she went on, turnin
g back to the Director, "I'm
taking him in to see the Assistant Superintendent of
ything's at all abnormal."
"Quite right," said the Director. "Take him in. You stay
here, little girl," he added, as the nurse moved away with
"And a very good name too," said the Director. "Run
away now and see if you can fi
nd some other little boy to
The child scampered off into the bushes and was lost to
sight.
"Exquisite little creature!" s
aid the Director, looking after
her. Then, turning to his stud
ents, "What I'm going to tell
you now," he said, "may so
when you're not accustomed to
history, most facts about
sound incredible."
"In most cases, till they were
"Twenty years old?" echoed the students in a chorus of
"Twenty," the Director repeated. "I told you that you'd
"But what happened?" they
asked. "What were the
"The results were terrible." A deep resonant voice broke
They looked around. On the
fringe of the little group
stood a strangera man of middle height, black-haired,
with a hooked nose, full red
lips, eyes very piercing and
dark. "Terrible," he repeated.
The D.H.C. had at that moment sat down on one of the
steel and rubber benches conv
eniently scattered through
the gardens; but at the sight of the stranger, he sprang
Psychology Bureau: averte
d themselves from that
unsavoury reputation.
The faint hum and rattle of
machinery still stirred the
crimson air in the Embryo St
ore. Shifts mi
ght come and
go, one lupus-coloured face give place to another;
majestically and for ever th
with their load of future men and women.
Lenina Crowne walked briskly towards the door.
His fordship Mustapha Mond! The eyes of the saluting
students almost popped out of their heads. Mustapha
Mond! The Resident Controller for Western Europe! One
of the Ten World Controllers. One of the Ten ... and he
sat down on the bench with
the D.H.C., he was going to
stay, to stay, yes, and actually talk to them ... straight
from the horse's mouth. Straight from the mouth of Ford
himself.
Two shrimp-brown children emerged from a neighbouring
shrubbery, stared at them for a moment with large,
been was empty. Whisk, the
cathedrals; whisk, whisk,
King Lear and the Thoughts
of Pascal. Whisk, Passion;
"Going to the Feelies this ev
ening, Henry?" enquired the
Assistant Predestinator. "I
hear the new one at the
Alhambra is first-rate. There'
s a love scene on a bearskin
rug; they say it's marvello
us. Every hair of the bear
reproduced. The most amazing tactual effects."
"That's why you're taught no history," the Controller was
saying. "But now the time has come ..."
The D.H.C. looked at him ne
rvously. There were those
strange rumours of old forbidden books hidden in a safe
in the Controller's study. Bibl
thout the smallest success.
at a 'home' was?"
From her dim crimson cellar
Lenina Crowne shot up
seventeen stories, turned to the right as she stepped out
of the lift, walked down a lo
ng corridor and, opening the
door marked GIRLS' DRESSING-ROOM, plunged into a
deafening chaos of arms and bosoms and underclothing.
Torrents of hot water were splashing into or gurgling out
of a hundred baths. Rumbling and hissing, eighty vibro-
vacuum massage machines were simultaneously
kneading and sucking the fi
rm and sunburnt flesh of
eighty superb female specim
ens. Every one was talking
(The Controller's evocation wa
s so vivid that one of the
boys, more sensitive than th
e rest, turned pale at the
mere description and was on the point of being sick.)
Lenina got out of the bath, toweled herself dry, took hold
of a long flexible tube plug
ged into the wall, presented
the nozzle to her breast, as
though she meant to commit
suicide, pressed down the trigger. A blast of warmed air
dusted her with the finest talcum powder. Eight different
scents and eau-de-Cologne were
laid on in little taps over
the third from the left,
dabbed herself with chypre and, carrying her shoes and
stockings in her hand, went out to see if one of the vibro-
vacuum machines were free.
And home was as squalid psychically as physically.
Psychically, it was a rabbit
hole, a midden, hot with the
suffocating intimacies, what
dangerous, insane, obscene
"I've been feeling rather
out of sorts lately," Fanny
explained. "Dr. Wells advise
d me to have a Pregnancy
"But, my dear, you're only nineteen. The first Pregnancy
Substitute isn't compulsory till twenty-one."
The tropical sunshine lay like warm honey on the naked
bodies of children tumblin
g promiscuously among the
hibiscus blossoms. Home was in any one of twenty palm-
thatched houses. In the Trobriands conception was the
work of ancestral ghosts; no
body had ever heard of a
"Extremes," said the Controller, "meet. For the good
Family, monogamy, romance. Everywhere exclusiveness,
"But every one belongs to ever
y one else," he concluded,
The students nodded, emph
atically agreeing with a
statement which upwards
of sixty-two thousand
"Think of water under pressure
in a pipe." They thought
"There, you see!" Fanny was triumphant. "That shows
stands for. The strictest conventionality."
"Stability," said the Controller,
"stability. No civilization
without social stability. No
social stability without
children furtive in the undergrowth or running across the
Lenina shook her head. "Somehow," she mused, "I hadn't
been feeling very keen on
promiscuity lately. There are
times when one doesn't. Haven't you found that too,
Fanny nodded her sympathy and understanding. "But
one's got to make the effort," she said, sententiously,
"one's got to play the game
. After all, every one belongs
"Yes, every one belongs to every one else," Lenina
repeated slowly and, sighin
g, was silent for a moment;
then, taking Fanny's hand, gave it a little squeeze.
Impulse arrested spills over, an
d the flood is feeling, the
flood is passion, the flood is
even madness: it depends on
the force of the current, the height and strength of the
barrier. The unchecked stream flows smoothly down its
appointed channels into a c
alm well-being. (The embryo
is hungry; day in, day out,
the blood-surrogate pump
The decanted infant howls; at
once a nurse appears with
"Lenina Crowne?" said Henry Foster, echoing the
Assistant Predestinator's question as he zipped up his
trousers. "Oh, she's a splendid girl. Wonderfully
pneumatic. I'm surprised you haven't had her."
"I can't think how it is I haven't," said the Assistant
From his place on the opposite side of the changing-room
aisle, Bernard Marx overheard what they were saying and
"And to tell the truth," said Lenina, "I'm beginning to get
just a tiny bit bored with
nothing but Henry every day."
She pulled on her left stocking. "Do you know Bernard
Marx?" she asked in a tone whose excessive casualness
don't mean to say ...?"
"Why not? Bernard's an Alpha
Plus. Besides, he asked me
to go to one of the Savage
Reservations with him. I've
"But his reputation?"
"They say, they say," mocked Lenina.
"And then he spends most of
his time by himselfalone."
he's with me. And anyhow,
why are people so beastly to
him? I think he's rather
"Consider your own lives," said Mustapha Mond. "Has any
The question was answered by a negative silence.
"Has any of you been compelled to live through a long
look at it? No. There was so
"Or the Caste System. Consta
ntly proposed, constantly
Back turned to back, Fanny and Lenina continued their
"The Nine Years' War, the great Economic Collapse. There
"One of these days," said
Fanny, with dismal emphasis,
"The discoveries of Pfitzner
and Kawaguchi were at last
made use of. An intensive propaganda against viviparous
"Perfect!" cried Fanny enth
resist Lenina's charm for long. "And what a perfectly
"There was a thing, as I've said before, called
Christianity."
"Two thousand pharmacologists and bio-chemists were
subsidized in A.P. 178."
"He does look glum," said the Assistant Predestinator,
"Six years later it was bein
g produced commercially. The
perfect drug."
"Gonadal hormones, transfusion of young blood,
"And do remember that a gramme is better than a
damn." They went out, laughing.
"All the physiologic
al stigmata of old age have been
"Go away, little girl," shouted the D.H.C. angrily. "Go
away, little boy! Can't you se
e that his ford
ship's busy?
Go and do your erotic
"Suffer little children," said the Controller.
Slowly, majestically, with a f
aint humming of
machinery,
the Conveyors moved forward,
thirty-three centimters an
hour. In the red darkness
glinted innumerable rubies.
HE LIFT was crowded with men from the Alpha
Changing Rooms, and Lenina
Bernard's pale face flushed. "What on earth for?" she
wondered, astonished, but at
the same time touched by
this strange tribute to her power.
first ring of satellite subu
rbs. The green was maggoty
with fore-shortened life. Fo
rests of Centrifugal Bumble-
WITH eyes for the most part
downcast and, if ever they
lighted on a fellow creature
, at once and furtively
averted, Bernard hastened ac
ross the roof. He was like a
man pursued, but pursued by enemies he does not wish
to see, lest they should seem
more hostile even than he
had supposed, and he himself
be made to feel guiltier
"That horrible Benito Hoov
true) Bernard's physique as hard
He climbed into the plane an
d, a minute later, was flying
southwards, towards the river.
The various Bureaux of Prop
aganda and the College of
Emotional Engineering were hous
ed in a single sixty-story
head. His hair was dark
and curly, his features strongly marked. In a forcible
emphatic way, he was handsome and looked, as his
Bernard had come to discuss wi
th himor rather, since it
was always Helmholtz who did all the talking, to listen to
A physical shortcoming could
produce a kind of mental
excess. The process, it seemed, was reversible. Mental
excess could produce, for its own purposes, the voluntary
blindness and deafness of deliberate solitude, the
"Oh, as far as they go." Helmholtz shrugged his
shoulders. "But they go such a little way. They aren't
Helmholtz Watson listened
with a certain sense of
discomfort. "Poor little Bernard!" he said to himself. But
er ashamed for his friend. He
wished Bernard would show a little more pride.
Y EIGHT O'CLOCK the light
was failing. The loud
speaker in the tower of th
e Stoke Poges Club House
began, in a more than huma
n tenor, to announce the
closing of the courses. Lenina and Henry abandoned their
game and walked back towards the Club. From the
grounds of the Internal and
any one. Even Epsilo
ns are useful. We co
uldn't do without
Epsilons. Every one works for
every one else. We can't do
fear and surprise; her speculat
ions through half a wakeful
hour; and then, under the in
fluence of those endless
or an Epsilon. ..." He sigh
ed. Then, in a resolutely
cheerful voice, "Anyhow," he concluded, "there's one
thing we can be certain of; whoever he may have been,
he was happy when he was alive. Everybody's happy
"Yes, everybody's happy now,
" echoed Lenina. They had
Landing on the roof of Henry's forty-story apartment
house in Westminster, they
went straight down to the
dining-hall. There, in a loud
and cheerful company, they
ate an excellent meal.
was served with the coffee.
mounted towards a climax, louder and ever louderuntil
at last, with a wave of his
Malthusian Blues, they might have been twin embryos
took leave of his friend and, h
ailing a taxi on the roof told
the man to fly to the Ford
son Community Singery. The
Bernard looked at her (Ford! it was Morgana Rothschild)
and blushingly had to admit that he had been playing
neither. Morgana stared at him with astonishment. There
Then pointedly she turned aw
ay and addressed herself to
the more sporting man on her left.
"A good beginning for a Solidarity Service," thought
Bernard miserably, and foresaw for himself yet another
failure to achieve atonement. If only he had given himself
time to look around instead
of scuttling for the nearest
instrumentsnear-wind and super-stringthat plangently
repeated and repeated th
haunting melody of the firs
t Solidarity Hymn. Again,
againand it was not the ea
r that heard the pulsing
rhythm, it was the midriff;
the wail and clang of those
recurring harmonies haunted, not the mind, but the
yearning bowels of compassion.
The President made another sign of the T and sat down.
The service had begun. The dedicated
Again twelve stanzas.
By this time the
soma
had begun
to work. Eyes shone, cheeks were flushed, the inner light
of universal benevolence broke out on every face in
happy, friendly smiles. Even
Bernard felt himself a little
melted. When Morgana Rothsc
hild turned and beamed at
him, he did his best to beam back. But the eyebrow, that
black two-in-onealas, it was still there; he couldn't
ignore it, couldn't, however hard he tried. The melting
hadn't gone far enough. Perhaps if he had been sitting
The President leaned
forward and, with a touch, released
a delirium of cymbals and bl
own brass, a fever of tom-
"Oh, he's coming!" screamed
"Orgy-porgy," the dancers caught up the liturgical refrain,
"Orgy-porgy, Ford and fun, ki
ss the girls ..." And as they
sang, the lights began slowly
to fadeto fade and at the
same time to grow warmer,
richer, redder, until at last
they were dancing in the cr
imson twilight of an Embryo
Store. "Orgy-porgy ..." In thei
separateness. He was as miserably isolated now as he
had been when the service beganmore isolated by
reason of his unreplenished em
DD, ODD,
, was Lenina's verdict on Bernard Marx.
So odd, indeed, that in th
e course of the succeeding
weeks she had wondered more
"You can't teach a rhinoceros
tricks," he had explained in
his brief and vigorous st
yle. "Some men are almost
rhinoceroses; they don't respond properly to
conditioning. Poor Devils! Bernard's one of them. Luckily
In the end she persuaded him,
much against his will, to
fly over to Amsterdam to see
the Semi-Demi-Finals of the
Women's Heavyweight Wrestling Championship.
"In a crowd," he grumbled.
"As usual." He remained
obstinately gloomy the whole af
ternoon; wouldn't talk to
Lenina's friends (of whom th
the radio. Quick!" She reac
hed for the dialling knob on
the dash-board and turned it at random.
"... skies are blue inside of
you," sang sixteen tremoloing
"But, Bernard, you're saying the most awful things."
"Don't you wish you were free, Lenina?"
"I don't know what you mean. I am free. Free to have the
He laughed, "Yes, 'Everybody's happy nowadays.' We
begin giving the children that at five. But wouldn't you
like to be free to be happy in some other way, Lenina? In
your own way, for example; not in everybody else's
"I don't know what you mean," she repeated. Then,
laugh, tried to thin
"You think I'm all right." Another nod. "In every way?"
"Perfect," he said aloud. An
d inwardly. "She thinks of
Lenina smiled triumphantly. But her satisfaction was
"All the same," he went on, after a little pause, "I still
rather wish it had all ended differently."
"Differently?" Were there other endings?
"I didn't want it to end
with our going to bed," he
Lenina was astonished.
"But then what ...?"
He began to talk a lot of in
comprehensible and dangerous
nonsense. Lenina did her best to stop the ears of her
mind; but every now and then a phrase would insist on
becoming audible. "... to try
the effect of arresting my
impulses," she heard him sa
y. The words seemed to
touch a spring in her mind.
"Never put off till to-morro
w the fun you can have to-
"Well, why shouldn't it reel a bit?"
"Bernard!"
"Adults intellectually and duri
ng working hours," he went
d desire are concerned."
Ignoring the interruption. "It suddenly struck me the
other day," continued Bernard, "that it might be possible
to be an adult all the time."
"I don't understand." Lenina's tone was firm.
"I know you don't. And that's why we went to bed
ALTING for a moment outside the door of the Director's
room, Bernard drew a deep breath and squared his
shoulders, bracing himself
hypnopdic prejudices he had (so he imagined)
Because, after all, it's the so
rt of accident that might
have happened to any one; and, of course, the social
body persists although the component cells may change."
But this sleep-taught consolatio
n did not seem to be very
effective. Shaking his head,
"I actually dream about it
thingsjust because he liked Bernard. The seconds
stare at the floor. And
suddenly Bernard blushed and turned away.
HE journey was quite uneventful. The Blue Pacific
Lenina was quite offended. "Of course I can stand it. I
only said it was lovely he
re because ... well, because
"... supplied with current fr
om the Grand Canyon hydro-
said, "You don't say so!" Disappointed, the Warden began
again. ) "Those, I repeat who
are born in the Reservation
Destined to die ... A decilitre
of Eau de Cologne every
minute. Six litres an hour. "Perhaps," Bernard tried again,
Leaning forward, the Warden
tapped the table with his
forefinger. "You ask me how
many people live in the
Reservation. And I reply"triumphantly"I reply that we
do not know. We can only guess."
Six times twenty-fourno, it
would be nearer six times
thirty-six. Bernard was pale and trembling with
"... about sixty thousand In
absolute savages ... our inspec
tors occasionally visit ...
otherwise, no communication
whatever with the civilized
world ... still preserve their re
pulsive habits and customs
... marriage, if you know what
that is, my dear young
lady; families ... no conditioning ... monstrous
superstitions ... Christianity
and totemism and ancestor
worship ... extinct languages,
such as Zui and Spanish
and Athapascan ... pumas,
porcupines and other
ferocious animals ... infectious diseases ... priests ...
They got away at last. Bernard
dashed to the telephone.
Quick, quick; but it took him nearly three minutes to get
on to Helmholtz Watson. "We might be among the
savages already," he complained. "Damned
He raged against himselfwhat a fool!against the
Directorhow unfair not to
give him that other chance,
that other chance which, he now had no doubt at all, he
Lenina shook her head. "Was
and will make me ill," she
quoted, "I take a gramme and only am."
In the end she persuaded him
"They never learn," said the green-uniformed pilot,
pointing down at the skel
HE MESA was like a ship bec
almed in a strait of lion-
"I wish we could have brought the plane," said Lenina,
looking up resentfully at th
"I hate walking. And you feel
so small when you're on the
They walked along for some way in the shadow of the
mesa, rounded a projection, and there, in a water-worn
ravine, was the way up the companion ladder. They
climbed. It was a very steep path that zigzagged from
side to side of the gully. Sometimes the pulsing of the
drums was all but inaudible, at
others they seemed to be
When they were half-way up,
an eagle flew past so close
to them that the wind of hi
s wings blew chill on their
faces. In a crevice of the rock lay a pile of bones. It was
all oppressively queer, and th
e Indian smelt stronger and
stronger. They emerged at las
t from the ravine into the
full sunlight. The top of the mesa was a flat deck of
"Like the Charing-T Tower," was Lenina's comment. But
she was not allowed to enjo
y her discovery of this
reassuring resemblance for lo
rope. One of the ropes writ
Lenina saw that they were snakes.
The men came nearer and near
er; their dark eyes looked
at her, but without giving any sign of recognition, any
een her or were aware of her
existence. The writhing snak
e hung limp again with the
rest. The men passed.
She liked even less what await
ed her at the entrance to
e had left them while he
went inside for instructions. The dirt, to start with, the
piles of rubbish, the dust, the dogs, the flies. Her face
wrinkled up into a grimace of disgust. She held her
handkerchief to her nose.
"But how can they live like th
is?" she broke out in a voice
Bernard shrugged his shoulders philosophically.
"Anyhow," he said, "they've been doing it for the last five
or six thousand years. So I suppose they must be used to
"But cleanliness is next to fordliness," she insisted.
"Yes, and civilization is ster
ilization," Bernard went on,
concluding on a tone of ir
ony the second hypnopdic
lesson in elementary hygiene. "But these people have
never heard of Our Ford, and
they aren't civilized. So
An almost naked Indian was very slowly climbing down
the ladder from the first-flo
or terrace of a neighboring
houserung after rung, with the tremulous caution of
extreme old age. His face wa
s profoundly wrinkled and
black, like a mask of obsidian. The toothless mouth had
fallen in. At the corners of th
e lips, and on each side of
the chin, a few long bristl
es gleamed almost white
against the dark skin. The long
unbraided hair hung down
in grey wisps round his face. His body was bent and
emaciated to the bone, almost
fleshless. Very slowly he
came down, pausing at each rung before he ventured
another step.
"What's the matter with him?" whispered Lenina. Her
rror and amazement.
"He's old, that's
all," Bernard answered
as carelessly as
he could. He too was startled; but he made an effort to
"Old?" she repeated. "But th
e Director's old; lots of
people are old; they
"That's because we don't allow them to be like that. We
preserve them from diseases
. We keep their internal
"But it's terrible," Lenina whispered. "It's awful. We ought
perpendicularly, then darted it horizontally forward. They
did what he mutely commandedclimbed the ladder and
walked through the doorway,
to which it gave access,
into a long narrow room, ra
ther dark and smelling of
smoke and cooked grease and long-worn, long-unwashed
clothes. At the further end of the room was another
doorway, through which came
a shaft of sundight and the
noise, very loud and close, of the drums.
They stepped across the threshold and found themselves
on a wide terrace. Below them, shut in by the tall houses,
was the village square, crowded with Indians. Bright
came up and was almost lost in the steady remorseless
persistence of the drums.
Lenina liked the drums. Shutting her eyes she abandoned
her consciousness mo
Queeryes. The place was queer, so was the music, so
were the clothes and the goitres and the skin diseases
and the old people. But the performance itselfthere
"It reminds me of a lower-caste Community Sing," she
But a little later it was remind
ing her a good deal less of
that innocuous function. For
suddenly there had swarmed
up from those round chambe
rs underground a ghastly
troop of monsters. Hideously ma
sked or painted out of all
semblance of humanity, they had tramped out a strange
limping dance round the squa
re; round and again round,
singing as they went, round
and roundeach time a little
faster; and the drums had changed and quickened their
rhythm, so that it became lik
e the pulsing of fever in the
ears; and the crowd had begun to sing with the dancers,
louder and louder; and first one woman had shrieked,
and then another and another, as though they were
being killed; and then suddenl
y the leader of the dancers
broke out of the line, ran to
a big wooden chest which
was standing at one end of the square, raised the lid and
pulled out a pair of black snakes. A great yell went up
from the crowd, and all the other dancers ran towards
terrifyingly, there was absolute silence. The drums
stopped beating, life seemed
to have come to an end.
The old man pointed toward
gave entrance to the lower world. And slowly, raised by
invisible hands from below,
there emerged from the one
a painted image of an eagle, from the other that of a
man, naked, and nailed to a
cross. They hung there,
though watching. The old
man clapped his hands. Naked but for a white cotton
breech-cloth, a boy of about
eighteen stepped out of the
crowd and stood before him,
his hands crossed over his
chest, his head bowed. The old man made the sign of the
cross over him and turned away. Slowly, the boy began
to walk round the writhing heap of snakes. He had
rushed forward, picked up the snakes and ran out of the
square. Men, women, childre
n, all the crowd ran after
them. A minute later the square
was empty, only the boy
remained, prone where he had
fallen, quite still. Three
old women came out of one of the houses, and with some
difficulty lifted him and carried him in. The eagle and the
man on the cross kept guard
for a little while over the
empty pueblo; then, as thou
gh they had seen enough,
sank slowly down through their hatchways, out of sight,
ought to have been ther
e," the young man went on.
"Why wouldn't they let me be the sacrifice? I'd have gone
round ten timestwelve, fifteen. Palowhtiwa only got as
far as seven. They could have had twice as much blood
from me. The multitudinous se
as incarnadine." He flung
out his arms in a lavish gest
Bernard's questions made a diversion. Who? How? When?
From where? Keeping his eyes
fixed on Bernard's face
(for so passionately did he long
to see Lenina smiling that
he simply dared not look at
her), the young man tried to
explain himself. Linda and he
Linda was his mother (the
word made Lenina look uncomfortable)were strangers in
the Reservation. Linda had come from the Other Place
long ago, before he was bo
rn, with a man who was his
father. (Bernard pricked up
his ears.) She had gone
walking alone in those mountain
had fallen down a steep place and hurt her head. ("Go
on, go on," said Bernard excitedly.) Some hunters from
Malpais had found her and brought her to the pueblo. As
for the man who was his father, Linda had never seen
him again. His name was Tomakin. (Yes, "Thomas" was
the D.H.C.'s first name.) He must have flown away, back
to the Other Place, away without hera bad, unkind,
unnatural man.
"And so I was born in M
alpais," he concluded. "In
Malpais." And he shook his head.
The squalor of that little ho
use on the outskirts of the
pueblo!
A space of dust and rubbish se
parated it from the village.
Two famine-stricken dogs were nosing obscenely in the
garbage at its door. Inside, when they entered, the
From the inner room a rather
hoarse female voice said,
They waited. In bowls on the
floor were the remains of a
The door opened. A very stout blonde squaw stepped
across the threshold and stoo
d looking at the strangers
staring incredulously, her mouth open. Lenina noticed
with disgust that two of the
flow again. "I suppose John
told you. What I had to
sufferand not a gramme of
to be had. Only a drink
every now and then, when
Pop used to bring
it. Pop is a boy I used to kn
ow. But it makes you feel so
bad afterwards. the
does, and you're sick with the
; besides it always made that awful feeling of being
ashamed much worse the next day. And I was so
ashamed. Just think of it:
keep things clean when ther
look at these clothes. This be
Quite as a tiny boy, even. On
ce (but that was when he
was bigger) he tried to kill
poor Waihusiwaor was it
UTSIDE, in the dust and among the garbage (there
were four dogs now), Berna
rd and John were walking
"So hard for me to realize,
" Bernard was saying, "to
reconstruct. As though we were living on different
was frightened; he hid his face against Linda's body.
Linda put her hand on him and he felt safer. In those
other words he did not understand so well, she said to
the man, "Not with John here." The man looked at him,
then again at Linda, and said a few words in a soft voice.
bent over the bed towards
him and his face was huge, terrible; the black ropes of
"But why did they want to hurt you, Linda?'' he asked
that night. He was crying, because the red marks of the
whip on his back still hurt so terribly. But he was also
crying because people were
so beastly and unfair, and
because he was only a little bo
y and couldn't do anything
against them. Linda was crying too. She was grown up,
but she wasn't big enough to
fight against three of them.
It wasn't fair for her either.
"Why did they want to hurt
"I don't know. How should I know?" It was difficult to
hear what she said, beca
use she was lying on her
stomach and her face was in
the pillow. "They say those
men," she went on; and she did not seem
to be talking to him at all;
she seemed to be talking with
some one inside herself. A long talk which she didn't
understand; and in the end she started crying louder
"Oh, don't cry, Linda. Don't cry."
He pressed himself against her. He put his arm round her
neck. Linda cried out. "Oh, be careful. My shoulder! Oh!"
and she pushed him away, hard
. His head banged against
shouted; and then, suddenly,
"Linda," he cried out. "Oh, mother, don't!"
"I'm not your mother. I wo
n't be your mother."
"Turned into a savage," she shouted. "Having young ones
like an animal ... If it hadn't been for you, I might have
gone to the Inspector, I mi
ght have got away. But not
with a baby. That would have been too shameful."
He saw that she was going to
hit him again, and lifted his
arm to guard his face. "Oh, don't, Linda, please don't."
wn his arm; his face was
"Don't, Linda." He shut his
But she didn't hit him. After
a little time, he opened his
eyes again and saw th
at she was looking
at him. He tried
to smile at her. Suddenly
she put her arms round him
happy, like the summer dances here in Malpais, but much
happier, and the happiness being there every day, every
day. ... He listened by the ho
"When you're bigger," she had said, "you can read it."
Well, now he was big enough. He was proud. "I'm afraid
you won't find it very exciti
ng," she said. "But it's the
only thing I have." She sighed
. "If only you could see the
lovely reading machines we us
ed to have in London!" He
began reading.
Conditioning of the Embryo
Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love
Over the nasty sty ...
The strange words rolled through his mind; rumbled, like
talking thunder; like the drum
s at the summer dances, if
the drums could have spoken
; like the men singing the
Corn Song, beautiful, beautiful,
so that you cried; like old
Mitsima saying magic over his feathers and his carved
sticks and his bits of bone
and stonekiathla tsilu silokwe
silokwe silokwe. Kiai silu
the bed, asleepwhite Linda and Pop almost black
beside her, with one arm under her shoulders and the
other dark hand on her brea
st, and one of the plaits of
his long hair lying across her throat, like a black snake
trying to strangle her. Po
p's gourd and a cup were
standing on the floor near th
e bed. Linda was snoring.
His heart seemed to have disappeared and left a hole. He
was empty. Empty, and cold, and rather sick, and giddy.
He leaned against the wall to steady himself.
Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous ... Like drums, like
the men singing for the corn, like magic, the words
repeated and repeated themselves in his head. From
being cold he was suddenly
hot. His cheeks burnt with
the rush of blood, the room
swam and darkened before
the blow. But the hand only took him under the chin and
turned his face, so that he ha
d to look again into Pop's
eyes. For a long time, for hours and hours. And
suddenlyhe couldn't help ith
e began to cry. Pop burst
out laughing. "Go," he said, in the other Indian words.
"Go, my brave Ahaiyuta." He ran out into the other room
to hide his tears.
"You are fifteen," said old Mi
tsima, in the Indian words.
"Now I may teach you to work the clay."
To fashion, to give form, to f
eel his fingers gaining in skill
and powerthis gave him an
B, C, Vitamin D," he sang to himself as he worked. "The
fat's in the liver, the cod's
in the sea." And Mitsima also
sanga song about killing a
bear. They worked all day,
and all day he was filled with an intense, absorbing
happiness.
"Next winter," said old Mitsim
a, "I will teach you to make
He stood for a long time outside the house, and at last
the ceremonies within were finished. The door opened;
they came out. Kothlu came
first, his right hand out-
He paid no attention to he
r calling, but ran on, away,
It is finished Old Mitsima's words repeated themselves in
his mind. Finished, finished ...
In silence and from a long
way off, but violently, desperately, hopelessly, he had
loved Kiakim. And now it wa
s finished. He was sixteen.
into the black shadow of deat
h. He had only to take one
step, one little jump. ... He held out his right hand in the
moonlight. From the cut on hi
s wrist the blood was still
oozing. Every few seconds a drop fell, dark, almost
colourless in the dead light. Drop, drop, drop. To-morrow
He had discovered Time and Death and God.
young man was saying.
The words awoke a plaintive
echo in Bernard's mind.
Alone, alone ... "So am I,"
he said, on a gush of
confidingness. "Terribly alone."
"Are you?" John looked surprised. "I thought that in the
Other Place ... I mean, Linda always said that nobody
Bernard blushed uncomfortably. "You see," he said,
mumbling and with averted eyes, "I'm rather different
from most people, I suppose. If one happens to be
"Yes, that's just it." The
young man nodded. "If one's
different, one's bound to be lonely. They're beastly to
one. Do you know, they shut me out of absolutely
everything? When the other boys were sent out to spend
the night on the mountainsyo
u know, when you have to
dream which your sacred anim
The other nodded. "But I mustn't tell you what." He was
silent for a little; then, in
a low voice, "Once," he went
the little house, he had realized
who the "father" of this
young savage must be. "W
The young man's face lit up.
No, it was impossible. Un
less, unless ... It suddenly
occurred to Bernard that he
r very revoltingness might
"Ford, no!" Bernard couldn't help laughing.
John also laughed, but for
another reasonlaughed for
pure joy.
"O brave new world," he re
peated. "O brave new world
ENINA felt herself entitled,
after this day of queerness
was the deep, resonant voice of Mustapha Mond himself
that sounded in his ears.
"I ventured to think," stammered Bernard, "that your
fordship might find the ma
tter of sufficient scientific
"Yes, I do find it of sufficient scientific interest," said the
deep voice. "Bring these two
individuals back to London
"Your fordship is aware that
I shall need a special permit
"The necessary orders," said
Mustapha Mond, "are being
sent to the Warden of the
Reservation at this moment.
You will proceed at once to
the Warden's Office. Good-
morning, Mr. Marx."
There was silence. Bernard
hung up the receiver and
hurried up to the roof.
"Warden's Office," he said to
At ten fifty-four Bernard
was shaking hands with the
Warden.
lighted." His boom was
"I know," said Bernard, interrupting him. "I was talking to
his fordship on the phone a moment ago." His bored tone
implied that he was in the habi
t of talking to his fordship
every day of the week. He dropped into a chair. "If you'll
kindly take all the necessary
steps as soon as possible.
As soon as possible," he emphatically repeated. He was
At eleven three he had all th
e necessary papers in his
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
HE HANDS of all the four thousa
nd electric clocks in all
the Bloomsbury Centre's four thousand rooms marked
twenty-seven minutes past two.
"This hive of industry,"
as the Director was fond of
calling it, was in the full buzz
of work. Every one was busy, everything in ordered
their long tails furiously
lashing, spermatozoa were burrowing head first into
eggs; and, fertilized, the eggs were expanding, dividing,
or if bokanovskified, budding and breaking up into whole
populations of separate embryos. From the Social
Predestination Room the es
calators went rumbling down
into the basement, and there, in the crimson darkness,
stewingly warm on their cushion of peritoneum and
gorged with blood-surrogate
turned to rain, nine
hundred older children were amusing
themselves with bricks an
d clay modelling, hunt-the-
zipper, and erotic play.
Buzz, buzz! the hive was hummi
was the singing of the young
girls over their test-tubes,
the Predestinators whistled
as they worked, and in the
Decanting Room what glorious
jokes were cracked above
ctor's face, as he entered
the Fertilizing Room with Henry Foster, was grave,
"A public example," he was saying. "In this room,
because it contains more hi
gh-caste workers than any
The voice in which he said,
"Good-morning, Director,"
was absurdly too loud; that
in which, correcting his
mistake, he said, "You asked me to come and speak to
you here," ridiculously soft, a squeak.
"Yes, Mr. Marx," said the Director portentously. "I did ask
you to come to me here. You returned from your holiday
last night, I understand."
"Yes," Bernard answered.
"Yes-s," repeated the Direct
or, lingering, a serpent, on
the "s." Then, suddenly raising his voice, "Ladies and
ignominy from the post he has held in this Centre; I
propose forthwith to apply for his transference to a
Subcentre of the lowest order and, that his punishment
side, still smiling, but with a smile that became
progressively, in face of the Director's expression of
He came in at once, paused for a moment just inside the
door, looked round, then so
ft on his mocc
FTER the scene in the Fert
ilizing Room,
London was wild to see this
delicious creature who had
fallen on his knees before the
Director of Hatcheries and
Conditioningor rather the ex-Director, for the poor man
"Which will finish he
r off in a month or
two," the doctor
confided to Bernard. "One da
y the respiratory centre will
be paralyzed. No more breathing. Finished. And a good
thing too. If we could rejuve
nate, of course it would be
different. But we can't."
Surprisingly, as every one thought (for on
Linda was most conveniently
out of the way), John raised
objections.
"But aren't you shortening
her life by giving her so
"In one sense, yes," Dr. Shaw admitted. "But in another
we're actually lengthening it
." The young man stared,
uncomprehending. "
may make you lose a few
years in time," the doctor
went on. "But think of the
enormous, immeasurable durati
ons it can give you out of
soma
-holiday is a bit of what our ancestors
the thirty-seventh floor of Be
rnard's apartment house, in
bed, with the radio and television always on, and the
patchouli tap just dripping, and the
"I'm so glad," said Lenina.
"And now you must admit that
you were wrong about Bernard. Don't you think he's
feel larger. Moreover, he did genuinely believe that there
were things to criticize. (A
t the same time, he genuinely
liked being a success and havi
ng all the girls he wanted.)
Before those who now, for th
e sake of the Savage, paid
their court to him, Bernard would parade a carping
unorthodoxy. He was politely listened to. But behind his
back people shook their heads. "That young man will
come to a bad end," they said, prophesying the more
confidently in that they them
selves would in due course
personally see to it that th
e end was bad. "He won't find
another Savage to help him out a second time," they
said. Meanwhile, however,
they were polite. And because they were polite, Bernard
"Lighter than air," said Bernard, pointing upwards.
Like a pearl in the sky, high, high above them, the
Weather Department's captive
balloon shone ro
sily in the
sunshine.
"... the said Savage," so ran Bernard's instructions, "to
be shown civilized life in
He was being shown a bird's-eye view of it at present, a
bird's-eye view from the platform of the Charing-T Tower.
The Station Master and the Re
sident Meteorologist were
acting as guides. But it was
Bernard who did most of the
talking. Intoxicated, he was behaving as though, at the
very least, he were a visiting World Controller. Lighter
the fact that he has heard
them talked about by the
woman Linda, his m."
(Mustapha Mond frowned. "D
oes the fool think I'm too
squeamish to see the word wr
"Partly on his interest being focussed on what he calls
'the soul,' which he persists
in regarding as an entity
independent of the physical en
vironment, whereas, as I
The Controller skipped the next sentences and was just
about to turn the page in
It was a small factory of light
"And I assure you," the Human Element Manager
concluded, as they left the fa
ctory, "we hardly ever have
But the Savage had suddenly broken away from his
with unexpected emergencies, it can't be helped." He
sighed.
Bernard, meanwhile, had taken a strong fancy to Miss
Keate. "If you're free any Monday, Wednesday, or Friday
evening," he was saying. Jerking his thumb towards the
Savage, "He's curious, you know," Bernard added.
"Quaint."
Miss Keate smiled (and her
smile was really charming, he
thought); said Thank you; woul
d be delighted to come to
one of his parties. The Provost opened a door.
Five minutes in that Alpha Double Plus classroom left
John a trifle bewildered.
elementary relativity?" he whispered to Bernard.
"That one, then. The roll unwinds. The selenium cells
"Do they read Shakespeare?"
asked the Savage as they
walked, on their way to th
e Bio-chemical Laboratories,
past the School Library.
"Certainly not," said the Head Mistress, blushing.
"Our library," said Dr. Gaffn
ey, "contains only books of
reference. If our young people
need distraction, they can
The Savage waited and watche
d. The Main Day-Shift was
just going off duty. Crowds of lower-caste workers were
queued up in front of the mo
norail station-seven or eight
hundred Gamma, Delta and Epsilon men and women,
with not more than a dozen
"I can't make it out," said Lenina.
She couldn't make it out; an
d not only was bewildered;
faintest suspicion of pig's
dung) back to the simple
aromatics with which the piec
e began. The final blast of
thyme died away; there was
a round of applause; the
lights went up. In the synthetic music machine the
sound-track roll began to unwind. It was a trio for hyper-
urrogate that now filled the
air with its agreeable languor. Thirty or forty barsand
then, against this instrument
al background, a much more
than human voice began to warble; now throaty, now
from the head, now hollow as a flute, now charged with
yearning harmonics, it effortlessly passed from Gaspard's
Forster's low record on the ve
ry frontiers of musical tone
to a trilled bat-note high above the highest C to which (in
1770, at the Ducal opera
of Parma, and to the
astonishment of Mozart) Lucrez
ia Ajugari, alone of all the
singers in history, once piercingly gave utterance.
Sunk in their pneumatic stalls, Lenina and the Savage
sniffed and listened. It was now the turn also for eyes
The house lights went down; fi
the Alhambra tingled with al
most intolerable galvanic
The plot of the film was ex
just now. Standing under a
lamp, she peered into her
hand mirror. At last. Yes, he
r nose was a bit shiny. She
shook the loose powder from
her puff. While he was
paying off the taxithere would just be time. She rubbed
at the shininess, th
need for him to be shy like
Drying her eyes, Lenina walked
across the roof to the lift.
On her way down to the twen
ty-seventh floor she pulled
out her
bottle. One gramme, she decided, would
not be enough; hers had been
more than a one-gramme
affliction. But if she took tw
o grammes, she ran the risk
of not waking up in time to-morrow morning. She
compromised and, into her
cupped left palm, shook out
ERNARD had to shout thro
ugh the locked door; the
Savage would not open.
he added as an after-
thought; and then (with wh
at derisive ferocity!):
"Sons
And he spat on the ground, as Pop might
have done.
In the end Bernard had to slink back, diminished, to his
rooms and inform the impa
tient assembly that the
Savage would not be appearing that evening. The news
was received with indignation. The men were furious at
having been tricked into behaving politely to this
insignificant fellow with the
unsavoury reputation and the
"Why was he so strange the other night, after the feelies?
glass of champagne-surrogat
e. They duly ate, but
ignored him; drank and were either rude to his face or
talked to one another about hi
m, loudly and offensively,
as though he had
"And now, my friends," said the Arch-Community-
Songster of Canterbury, in that beautiful ringing voice
with which he led the pr
oceedings at Ford's Day
Celebrations, "Now, my friend
s, I think perhaps the time
has come ..." He rose, put do
wn his glass, brushed from
his purple viscose waistcoat the crumbs of a considerable
collation, and walked towards the door.
Bernard darted forward to intercept him.
"Must you really, Arch-Songster?
... It's very early still.
Yes, what hadn't he hoped,
when Lenina confidentially
told him that the Arch-Commu
an invitation if it were sent
"My young friend," said the
a tone of loud and solemn
underlined the words. "The
author will be kept under
supervision. His transference to the Marine Biological
Station of St. Helena may be
come necessary." A pity, he
thought, as he signed his name. It was a masterly piece
of work. But once you began admitting explanations in
terms of purposewell, you didn't know what the result
might be. It was the sort of
idea that might easily
Bernard, by this time, was fast
asleep and smiling at the
private paradise of his dr
eams. Smiling, smiling. But
inexorably, every thirty seco
nds, the minute hand of the
electric clock above his be
d jumped forward with an
almost imperceptible click. Click, click, click, click ... And
it was morning. Bernard was back among the miseries of
space and time. It was in the lowest spirits that he taxied
across to his work at th
e Conditioning Centre. The
intoxication of success had
evaporated; he was soberly
his old self; and by contrast
with the temporary balloon
of these last weeks, the old self seemed unprecedentedly
To this deflated Bernard
the Savage showed himself
Savage, to mediate a campaign of small revenges to be
wreaked upon him. Nourishing a grievance against the
Arch-Community-Songster was useless; there was no
possibility of being revenged
on the Chief Bottler or the
Assistant Predestinator. As a victim, the Savage
possessed, for Bernard, this enormous superiority over
the others: that he was accessible. One of the principal
functions of a friend is to su
ffer (in a milder and symbolic
form) the punishments that we should like, but are
unable, to inflict upon our enemies.
Bernard's other victim-friend was Helmholtz. When,
discomfited, he came and asked once more for the
friendship which, in his prosperity, he had not thought it
worth his while to preserve.
Helmholtz gave it; and gave
it without a reproach, withou
t a comment, as though he
had forgotten that there ha
d ever been a quarrel.
Touched, Bernard felt himself at the same time
humiliated by this magnanimit
ya magnanimity the more
e more humiliating in that
it owed nothing to
soma
and everything to Helmholtz's
character. It was the Helmho
ltz of daily life who forgot
and forgave, not the Helmholt
z of a half-gramme holiday.
Bernard was duly grateful (it was an enormous comfort to
have his friend again) and also
duly resentful (it would be
pleasure to take some revenge on Helmholtz for his
generosity).
seventh is about rhymes. 'On the Use of Rhymes in Moral
Propaganda and Advertisement,
' to be precise. I always
illustrate my lecture with a lot of technical examples. This
time I thought I'd give them
one I'd just written myself.
Pure madness, of course; but
I couldn't resist it." He
laughed. "I was curious to see what their reactions would
be. Besides," he added more gravely, "I wanted to do a
bit of propaganda; I was tryi
ng to engineer them into
feeling as I'd felt when I
wrote the rhymes. Ford!" He
laughed again. "What an outcry
there was! The Principal
had me up and threatened to hand me the immediate
"But what were your rhymes?" Bernard asked.
"They were about being alone."
Bernard's eyebrows went up.
"I'll recite them to you, if you like." And Helmholtz
began:
Sticks, but a broken drum,
Midnight in the City,
Shut lips, sleeping faces,
Every stopped machine,
The dumb and littered places
Absence, say, of Susan's,
Absence of Egeria's
Arms and respective bosoms,
Lips and, ah, posteriors,
Whose? and, I ask, of what
So absurd an essence,
Helmholtz only laughed. "I feel," he said, after a silence,
as though I were just beginning to have something to
write about. As though I were
beginning to be able to use
that power I feel I've got inside methat extra, latent
smiled with sudden pleasure; at
"every fowl of tyrant
wing" the blood rushed up
into his cheeks; but at
"defunctive music" he turned
pale and trembled with an
"Property was thus appall'd,
Single nature's double name
about having a girlit seemed rather ridiculous. But,
the top of his book and th
en, as the laughter still
continued, closed it indignantly, got up and, with the
gesture of one who removes his pearl from before swine,
locked it away in its drawer.
ENRY FOSTER loomed up through the twilight of the
Embryo Store.
Lenina shook her head without speaking.
"Going out with some one else?" It interested him to
know which of his friends wa
s being had by which other.
Henry detected the weariness
in those purple eyes, the
pallor beneath that glaze of
lupus, the sadness at the
corners of the unsmiling cr
imson mouth. "You're not
feeling ill, are you?" he asked,
a trifle anxiously, afraid
that she might be sufferi
ng from one of the few
hadn't got enough V. P. of her own! She sighed
profoundly as she refilled
her syringe. "John," she
murmured to herself, "John ..." Then "My Ford," she
one its sleeping sickness
injection, or haven't I?" She simply couldn't remember.
In the end, she decided not to run the risk of letting it
have a second dose, and move
Twenty-two years, eight months, and four days from that
moment, a promising young Al
pha-Minus administrator at
Mwanza-Mwanza was to die of trypanosomiasisthe first
case for over half a century. Sighing, Lenina went on with
her work.
An hour later, in the Ch
anging Room, Fanny was
prescriptions had been shaken. "Nothing can be achieved
"Don't think of him."
"I can't help it."
"But in the intervals I still like him. I shall always like
"Well, if that's the case," s
aid Fanny, with decision, "why
The bell rang, and the Savage, who was impatiently
hoping that Helmholtz would
come that afternoon (for
having at last made up his
mind to talk to Helmholtz
about Lenina, he could no
t bear to postpone his
confidences a moment longer), jumped up and ran to the
"I had a premonition it was
you, Helmholtz," he shouted
On the threshold, in a white
Not that I could ever really be
that. But at any rate to
show I wasn't absolutely
-worthy. I wanted to do
"And Epsilon Semi-Morons to work them," she went on,
"And what on earth vacuum cleaners have got to do with
"Or lions with being glad to see
"It's like that in Shakespeare
too. 'If thou cost break her
virgin knot before all sancti
monious ceremonies may with
"For Ford's sake, John, talk sense. I can't understand a
word you say. First it's vacuum
cleaners; then it's knots.
You're driving me crazy." She jumped up and, as though
afraid that he might run away
from her physically, as well
as with his mind, caught him by the wrist. "Answer me
There was a moment's silence;
then, in a very low voice,
"I love you more than anything in the world," he said.
"Then why on earth didn't you say so?" she cried, and so
intense was her exasperation that she drove her sharp
nails into the skin of his wris
t. "Instead of drivelling away
about knots and vacuum cleaners and lions, and making
me miserable for weeks and weeks."
She released his hand and flung
"If I didn't like you so much,"
she said, "I'd be furious
And suddenly her arms were round his neck; he felt her
lips soft against his own. So
deliciously soft, so warm and
electric that inevitably he
found himself thinking of the
embraces in
Three Weeks in a Helicopter
. Ooh! ooh! the
stereoscopic blonde and anh! the more than real
, horror ... he fired to
disengage himself; but Lenina tightened her embrace.
"Why didn't you say so?" she whispered, drawing back
her face to look at him. Her eyes were tenderly
"The murkiest den, the most opportune place" (the voice
of conscience thundered po
suggestion our worser genius
can, shall never melt mine
honour into lust. Never, never!" he resolved.
"You silly boy!" she was saying. "I wanted you so much.
"But, Lenina ..." he began protesting; and as she
immediately untwined her ar
ms, as she stepped away
from him, he thought, for a moment, that she had taken
his unspoken hint. But when she unbuckled her white
patent cartridge belt and hung it carefully over the back
of a chair, he began to suspect that he had been
"Lenina!" he repeated apprehensively.
She put her hand to her neck and gave a long vertical
pull; her white sailor's blouse
was ripped to the hem;
suspicion condensed into a
too, too solid certainty.
Zip, zip! Her answer was wordless. She stepped out of
her bell-bottomed trousers. Her zippicamiknicks were a
pale shell pink. The Arch-Com
munity-Songster's golden T
"For those milk paps that through the window bars bore
at men's eyes...." The singing, thundering, magical words
made her seem doubly dangerous, doubly alluring. Soft,
soft, but how piercing! boring
and drilling into reason,
tunnelling through resolution
. "The strongest oaths are
straw to the fire i' the blood. Be more abstemious, or else
Zip! The rounded pinkness fell
apart like a neatly divided
apple. A wriggle of the arms,
a lifting first of the right
foot, then the left: the zippicamiknicks were lying lifeless
s, and her rakishly tilted
round white cap, she advanced towards him. "Darling.
Darling! If only you'd said
so before!" She held out her
But instead of also saying "Darling!" and holding out his
And as though awakened by her cry he caught her by the
shoulders and shook her. "W
hore!" he shouted "Whore!
standing out distinct and crimson on the pearly flesh.
Gingerly she rubbed
the wounded spot.
Outside, in the other room, the Savage was striding up
and down, marching, marching to the drums and music
of magical words. "The wr
en goes to't and the small
gilded fly does lecher in my sight." Maddeningly they
rumbled in his ears. "The fitchew nor the soiled horse
goes to't with a more riot
"Yes, didn't you hear me say
"What? Who's ill? Of course it interests me."
"Not in her rooms any more? Where has she been
"Oh, my God! What's the address?"
"Three Park Laneis that it? Three? Thanks."
Lenina heard the click of the replaced receiver, then
hurrying steps. A door sla
mmed. There was silence. Was
he really gone?
With an infinity of precau
tions she opened the door a
quarter of an inch; peeped
through the crack; was
encouraged by the view of
emptiness; opened a little
further, and put her whole he
ad out; finally tiptoed into
the room; stood for a few seconds with strongly beating
heart, listening, listening; th
en darted to the front door,
opened, slipped through, slammed, ran. It was not till
she was in the lift and actu
ally dropping down the well
that she began to feel herself secure.
HE Park Lane Hospital for the Dying was a sixty-story
tower of primrose tiles. As
the Savage stepped out of his
taxicopter a convoy of gaily
whirring from the roof and da
rted away across the Park,
westwards, bound for the Slough
Crematorium. At the lift
gates the presiding porter ga
ve him the information he
required, and he dropped down
to Ward 81 (a Galloping
Senility ward, the porter expl
ained) on the seventeenth
It was a large room bright
with sunshine and yellow
paint, and containing twenty
beds, all occupied. Linda
was dying in companyin
company and with all the
modern conveniences. The air
was continuously alive with
matter?" she asked. She was not accustomed to this kind
of thing in visitors. (Not th
at there were many visitors
anyhow: or any reason wh
y there should be many
He shook his head. "She's my mother," he said in a
The nurse glanced at him with
startled, horrified eyes;
then quickly looked away. From
throat to temple she was
"Take me to her," said the Savage, making an effort to
speak in an ordinary tone.
Still blushing, she led the way down the ward. Faces still
fresh and unwithered (for senili
ty galloped so hard that it
had no time to age the cheek
sonly the heart and brain)
turned as they passed. Thei
r progress was followed by
the blank, incurious eyes of
second infancy. The Savage
shuddered as he looked.
Linda was lying in the last of
the long row of beds, next
to the wall. Propped up on
pillows, she was watching the
Semi-finals of the South
American Riemann-Surface
Tennis Championship, which were
being played in silent
and diminished reproduction on the screen of the
television box at the foot of the bed. Hither and thither
across their square of illumi
noiselessly darted, like fish in an aquariumthe silent but
agitated inhabitants of another world.
d uncomprehendingly smiling.
Her pale, bloated face wore an expression of imbecile
happiness. Every now and th
en her eyelids closed, and
for a few seconds she seemed
to be dozing. Then with a
little start she would wake up againwake up to the
aquarium antics of the Tenn
is Champions, to the Super-
"Hug me till you drug me,
honey," to the warm draught of verbena that came
blowing through the ventilator above her headwould
wake to these things, or rath
er to a dream of which these
things, transformed and embellished by the
in her
blood, were the marvellous
constituents, and smile once
more her broken and discoloured smile of infantile
"Well, I must go," said the
nurse. "I've got my batch of
children coming. Besides, there's Number 3." She pointed
up the ward. "Might go off any minute now. Well, make
yourself comfortable." Sh
The Savage sat down beside the bed.
"Linda," he whispered, taking her hand.
At the sound of her name, she turned. Her vague eyes
brightened with recognition. She squeezed his hand, she
smiled, her lips moved; then quite suddenly her head fell
forward. She was asleep. He sat watching herseeking
through the tired flesh, seek
ing and finding that young,
bright face which had stooped over his childhood in
Malpais, remembering (and he closed his eyes) her voice,
when she told him those stor
outside the Reservation: that
beautiful, beautiful Other
Place, whose memory, as of
a heaven, a paradise of
goodness and loveliness, he
still kept whole and intact,
undefiled by contact with the reality of this real London,
these actual civilized men and women.
A sudden noise of shrill voices
made him open his eyes
and, after hastily brushing aw
ay the tears, look round.
What seemed an interminable
stream of identical eight-
year-old male twins was pouring into the room. Twin
after twin, twin after twin, th
ey camea nightmare. Their
faces, their repeated facefor there was only one
Suddenly from under the bed a pug-faced twin popped up
limp hand almost with violence
, as though he would force
her to come back from this
dream of ignoble pleasures,
from these base and hatefu
l memoriesback into the
present, back into reality:
the appalling present, the
awful realitybut sublime, but
significant, but desperately
of the imminence of that
which made them so fearful. "Don't you know me,
He felt the faint answering pressure of her hand. The
tears started into his eyes. He bent over her and kissed
Her lips moved. "Pop!" she
whispered again, and it was
as though he had had a pailful
of ordure thrown in his
Anger suddenly boiled up in him. Balked for the second
time, the passion of his grie
suddenly died into an almost inaudible breathless
croaking. Her mouth fell open: she made a desperate
effort to fill her lungs with ai
r. But it was as though she
had forgotten how to breathe.
She tried to cry outbut no
sound came; only the terror of
her staring eyes revealed
what she was suffering. Her hands went to her throat,
then clawed at the airth
e air she could no longer
r, had ceased to exist.
The Savage stood for a moment
in frozen silence, then
fell on his knees beside the bed and, covering his face
with his hands, sobbed uncontrollably.
looking now at the kneeling
figure by the bed (the scandalous exhibition!) and now
(poor children!) at the twins who had stopped their
hunting of the zipper and were
staring from the other end
of the ward, staring with all th
eir eyes and nostrils at the
shocking scene that was being enacted round Bed 20.
Should she speak to him? tr
y to bring him back to a
sense of decency? remind him of where he was? of what
fatal mischief he might do to these poor innocents?
Undoing all their wholesome death-conditioning with this
mind it was the one articulate word. "God!" he whispered
he saying?" said a voice, very near, distinct
and shrill through the warblings of the Super-Wurlitzer.
The Savage violently started and, uncovering his face,
looked round. Five khaki twin
s, each with the stump of a
long clair in his right ha
variously smeared with liquid ch
ocolate, were standing in
a row, puggily goggling at him.
HE menial staff of the Park
Lane Hospital for the Dying
consisted of one hundred an
d sixty-two Deltas divided
into two Bokanovsky Groups of eighty-four red headed
female and seventy-eight da
rk dolychocephalic male
twins, respectively. At six, when their working day was
over, the two Groups assemble
d in the vestibule of the
Hospital and were served by
the Deputy Sub-Bursar with
ration.
From the lift the Savage step
ped out into the midst of
them. But his mind was elsewherewith death, with his
grief, and his remorse;
mechanicaly, without
consciousness of what he
was doing, he began to
"Who are you pushing? Wh
ere do you think you're
going?"
High, low, from a multitude of
separate throats, only two
voices squeaked or growled.
Repeated indefinitely, as
though by a train of mirrors, two faces, one a hairless
and freckled moon haloed in
orange, the other a thin,
beaked bird-mask, stubbly wi
th two days' beard, turned
angrily towards him. Their words and, in his ribs, the
sharp nudging of elbows, broke through his unawareness.
He woke once more to externa
l reality, looked round him,
knew what he sawknew it, wi
and disgust, for the recurrent
delirium of his days and
nights, the nightmare of sw
arming indistinguishable
sameness. Twins, twins. ... Like maggots they had
swarmed defilingly over the
mystery of Linda's death.
ll grown, they now crawled
across his grief and his repent
ance. He halted and, with
bewildered and horrified eyes, stared round him at the
khaki mob, in the midst of whic
h, overtopping it by a full
head, he stood. "How many goodly creatures are there
here!" The singing words mocked him derisively. "How
distribution!" shouted a loud voice. "In good
A door had been opened, a ta
ble and chair carried into
the vestibule. The voice wa
s that of a jaunty young
Alpha, who had entered carryi
ng a black iron cash-box. A
murmur of satisfaction went
up from the expectant twins.
They forgot all about the Savage. Their attention was
now focused on the black cash-box, which the young man
had placed on the table, and was now in process of
"Oo-oh!" said all the
were looking at fireworks.
The young man took out a ha
ndful of tiny pill-boxes.
"Now," he said peremptorily
, "step forward, please. One
One at a time, with no shoving, the twins stepped
forward. First two males, then a female, then another
The Savage stood looking on. "O brave new world, O
brave new world ..." In hi
s mind the singing words
seemed to change their to
ne. They had mocked him
through his misery and remorse, mocked him with how
hideous a note of cynical de
rision! Fiendish
ly laughing,
they had insisted on the
low squalor, the nauseous
ugliness of the nightmare. Now, suddenly, they
ted the Deputy Sub-Bursar
in a fury. He slammed down he lid of his cash-box. "I
The Deltas muttered, jostled one another a little, and
then were still. The threat had been effective. Deprivation
The ringing of the telephon
e bell interrupted him. He
picked up the receiver. "Hul
lo. Speaking." Then, after a
long interval of listening, "Ford in Flivver!" he swore. "I'll
come at once."
"A fellow I know at the Pa
rk Lane Hospital," said
Helmholtz. "The Savage is there. Seems to have gone
mad. Anyhow, it's urgent.
"He's mad," whispered Bernard, staring with wide open
eyes. "They'll kill him. They
'll ..." A great
went up from the mob; a wave of movement drove it
menacingly towards the Savage. "Ford help him!" said
Bernard, and averted his eyes.
"Ford helps those who help
themselves." And with a
laugh, actually a laugh of ex
pushed his way through the crowd.
"Free, free!" the Savage shouted, and with one hand
continued to throw the
into the area while, with the
other, he punched the indistinguishable faces of his
And suddenly there was Helmholtz at
his side"Good old Helmholt
z!"also punching"Men at
last!"and in the interval also
throwing the po
ison out by
ndow. "Yes, men! men!" and
there was no more poison left. He picked up the cash-box
and showed them its black emptiness. "You're free!"
Hesitant on the fringes of th
e battle. "They're done for,"
said Bernard and, urged by
a sudden impulse, ran
forward to help them; then
buckled to their shoulders pumped thick clouds of
vapour into the air. Two mo
re were busy round the
portable Synthetic Music Box. Carrying water pistols
was brought in from the Burs
ary; a new distribution was
hastily made and, to the sound of the Voice's richly
affectionate, baritone valedictions, the twins dispersed,
blubbering as though their hearts would break. "Good-
bye, my dearest, dearest friends, Ford keep you! Good-
bye, my dearest, dearest friends, Ford keep you. Good-
When the last of the Deltas
had gone the policeman
"Come on then," said the
HE ROOM into which the three were ushered was the
Controller's study.
"His fordship will be down
in a moment." The Gamma
butler left them to themselves.
"It's more like a caffeine-solution party than a trial," he
Mustapha Mond shook hands wi
was to the Savage that he
addressed himself. "So you
The Savage looked at him. He had been prepared to lie,
to bluster, to remain su
llenly unresponsive; but,
reassured by the good-hum
oured intelligence of the
Controller's face, he de
cided to tell the truth,
straightforwardly. "No." He shook his head.
Bernard started and looked horrified. What would the
Controller think? To be labe
lled as the friend of a man
who said that he didn't like ci
vilizationsaid it openly and,
of all people, to the Contro
llerit was terrible. "But,
John," he began. A look fr
om Mustapha Mond reduced
"Of course," the Savage went on to admit, "there are
some very nice things. All
that music in the air, for
The Controller shrugged his shou
lders. "Because it's old;
that's the chief reason. We ha
ven't any use for old things
"Even when they'r
e beautiful?"
"Particularly when they're beau
tiful. Beauty's attractive,
and we don't want people to be attracted by old things.
"But the new ones are so stupid and horrible. Those
plays, where there's nothing
but helicopters flying about
the people kissing." He made a grimace.
"Goats and monkeys!" Only in
Othello's word could he
find an adequate vehicle for his contempt and hatred.
"Nice tame animals, anyhow,"
the Controller murmured
"Yes, why not?" Helmholtz repeated. He too was
The Controller laughed. "You're not being very polite to
your friend, Mr. Watson. One
of our most distinguished
"But he's right," said Helmholtz gloomily. "Because it is
"Precisely. But that require the most enormous ingenuity.
You're making flivvers out of the absolute minimum of
steelworks of art out of pr
actically noth
The Savage shook his head. "It all seems to me quite
horrible."
"Of course it does. Actual happ
grand."
"I suppose not," said the Sa
vage after a silence. "But
need it be quite so bad as
those twins?" He passed his
hand over his eyes as though
he were trying to wipe
away the remembered image of those long rows of
course." The deep voice
gesticulating hand implied all
space and the onrush of the
irresistible machine. Mustapha Mond's oratory was almost
don't find it so. On the contrary, they like it.
It's light, it's childishly simp
le. No strain on the mind or
the muscles. Seven and a half hours of mild,
unexhausting labour, and then the
ration and
games and unrestricted copulat
ion and the feelies. What
more can they ask for? True," he added, "they might ask
for shorter hours. And of co
urse we could give them
shorter hours. Technically, it
would be perfectly simple to
reduce all lower-caste workin
g hours to three or four a
day. But would they be any the happier for that? No, they
wouldn't. The experiment was tried, more than a century
and a half ago. The whole of Ireland was put on to the
four-hour day. What was the
result? Unrest and a large
increase in the consumption of
; that was all. Those
three and a half hours of extr
a leisure were so far from
being a source of happiness, th
at people felt constrained
to take a holiday from them
. The Inventions Office is
stuffed with plans for labour-saving processes. Thousands
of them." Mustapha Mond made a lavish gesture. "And
why don't we put them into execution? For the sake of
the labourers; it would be sheer cruelty to afflict them
with excessive leisure. It's the same with agriculture. We
could synthesize every morsel
of food, if we wanted to.
But we don't. We prefer to
keep a third of the population
on the land. For their own sakesbecause it takes
helicopters with, some thing th
at caused you to laugh at
across the room, and stood ge
sticulating in front of the
Controller. "You can't send
. I haven't done anything.
lt was the others. I swear it was the others." He pointed
accusingly to Helmholtz and the Savage. "Oh, please
don't send me to Iceland. I promise I'll do what I ought
to do. Give me another chance. Please give me another
chance." The tears began to fl
ow. "I tell you, it's their
fault," he sobbed. "And not to
Iceland. Oh please, your
fordship, please ..." And in
a paroxysm of abjection he
threw himself on his knees before the Controller.
"Because, finally, I preferred this," the Controller
answered. "I was given the choice: to be sent to an
island, where I could have got
on with my pure science,
or to be taken on to the
Controllers' Council with the
prospect of succeeding in
due course to an actual
Controllership. I chose this an
permitted. People still went
on talking about truth and
beauty as though they were the sovereign goods. Right
up to the time of the Nine Years' War.
made them
change their tune all right. Wh
at's the point of truth or
beauty or knowledge when the anthrax bombs are
popping all around you? That
was when science first
began to be controlledafter th
e Nine Years' War. People
"Yes, I think that will do,"
Helmholtz answered. "And
now, if you don't mind, I'll go and see how poor Bernard's
RT, SCIENCEyou seem to have paid a fairly high price
for your happiness," said the
Savage, when they were
"Well, religion, of course," replied the Controller. "There
used to be something called
Godbefore the Nine Years'
"And I've got plenty more," Mustapha Mond continued,
resuming his seat. "A whole co
llection of pornographic old
books. God in the safe and
Ford on the shelves." He
pointed with a laugh to his avowed libraryto the shelves
of books, the rack full of
reading-machine bobbins and
"But if you know about God, why don't you tell them?"
asked the Savage indignantly.
"Why don't you give them
"For the same reason as
we don't give them
Othello
they're old; they're about Go
d hundreds of years ago.
"But God doesn't change."
"All the difference in the worl
d," said Mustapha Mond. He
got up again and walked to the safe. "There was a man
called Cardinal Newman," he
said. "A cardinal," he
"Quite so. I'll read you one of the things he
dream of
in a moment. Meanwhile, liste
n to what this old Arch-
Community-Songster said." He opened the book at the
place marked by a slip of paper and began to read. "'We
are not our own any more than
what we possess is our
own. We did not make oursel
ves, we cannot be supreme
over ourselves. We are no
t our own masters. We are
God's property. Is it not our
happiness thus to view the
matter? Is it any happiness or any comfort, to consider
that we
our own? It may be thought so by the young
and prosperous. These may thin
k it a great thing to have
everything, as they suppose, their own wayto depend
on no oneto have to think of
nothing out of sight, to be
without the irksomeness of continual acknowledgment,
continual prayer, continual refe
rence of what they do to
the will of another. But as time goes on, they, as all men,
will find that independence was not made for manthat it
is an unnatural statewill do
us on safely to the end ...'
" Mustapha Mond paused, put
down the first book and, picking up the other, turned
over the pages. "Take this, fo
r example," he said, and in
his deep voice once more began to read: "'A man grows
old; he feels in himself that
radical sense of weakness, of
listlessness, of discomfo
advance of age; and, fee
ling thus, imagines himself
merely sick, lulling his fears
with the notion that this
distressing condition is due to some particular cause,
from which, as from an illness,
he hopes to recover. Vain
imaginings! That sickness is
old age; and a horrible
disease it is. They say that it
is the fear of death and of
what comes after death that makes men turn to religion
as they advance in years.
But my own experience has
given me the conviction that
, quite apart from any such
terrors or imaginings, the re
ligious sentiment tends to
develop as we grow older; to develop because, as the
passions grow calm, as the fa
ncy and sensibilities are less
excited and less excitable, our reason becomes less
troubled in its working, le
ss obscured by the images,
desires and distractions, in which it used to be absorbed;
whereupon God emerges as from behind a cloud; our
soul feels, sees, turns towards the source of all light;
turns naturally and inevitably;
for now that all that gave
to the world of sensations
its life and charms has begun
to leak away from us, now
that phenomenal existence is
no more bolstered up by impressions from within or from
Mustapha Mond checked him. "But he manifests himself
in different ways to different men. In premodern times he
manifested himself as the bein
g that's described in these
"How does he manifest himself now?" asked the Savage.
"Well, he manifests himself as
an absence; as though he
"Call it the fault of civilization. God isn't compatible with
machinery and scientific
medicine and universal
happiness. You must make yo
ur choice. Our civilization
has chosen machinery and medicine and happiness.
That's why I have to keep th
ese books locked up in the
The Savage interrupted him. "But isn't it
natural
to feel
"You might as well ask if it
's natural to do up one's
trousers with zippers," said
the Controller sarcastically.
"You remind me of another
of those old fellows called
Bradley. He defined philosop
hy as the finding of bad
reason for what one believe
s by instinct. As if one
believed anything by instinct! One believes things
because one has been conditioned to believe them.
Finding bad reasons for what one believes for other bad
reasonsthat's philosophy. Pe
ople believe in God because
"But all the same," insisted th
e Savage, "it is natural to
believe in God when you're
alonequite alone, in the
"But people never are alone
now," said Mustapha Mond.
"We make them hate solitude; and we arrange their lives
The Savage nodded gloomily. At Malpais he had suffered
because they had shut him out from the communal
activities of the pueblo, in
civilized London he was
suffering because he could
never escape from those
"Degrade him from what position? As a happy, hard-
working, goods-consuming citize
n he's perfect. Of course,
if you choose some other standard than ours, then
perhaps you might say he wa
s degraded. But you've got
"But chastity means pa
ssion, chastity means
neurasthenia. And passion and neurasthenia mean
instability. And instability mean
s the end of civilization.
You can't have a lasting civ
ilization without plenty of
pleasant vices."
"But God's the reason for everything noble and fine and
"My dear young friend," said Mustapha Mond, "civilization
has absolutely no need of
nobility or heroism. These
things are symptoms of po
litical inefficiency. In a
"But the tears are necessary. Don't you remember what
tempest came such calms,
may the winds blow till th
ey have wakened death.'
There's a story one of the ol
d Indians used to tell us,
about the Girl of Mtaski. The young men who wanted to
marry her had to do a morning'
s hoeing in her garden. It
seemed easy; but there were
flies and mosquitoes, magic
ones. Most of the young men simply couldn't stand the
biting and stinging. But the one that couldhe got the
"Charming! But in civilized countries," said the Controller,
"you can have girls without hoeing for them, and there
aren't any flies or mosquitoes
to sting you. We got rid of
them all centuries ago."
The Savage nodded, frowning.
"You got rid of them. Yes,
HE DOOR was ajar; they entered.
From the bathroom came an unpleasant and
characteristic sound.
"Is there anything the ma
There was no answer. Th
e unpleasant sound was
repeated, twice; there was sile
nce. Then, with a click the
bathroom door opened and, very pale, the Savage
"I say," Helmholtz exclaimed solicitously, "you do look ill,
s purify themselves." He
sat down and, sighing, passed his hand across his
forehead. "I shall rest for a
few minutes," he said. "I'm
"Well, I'm not surprised," said
Helmholtz. After a silence,
"We've come to say good-bye," he went on in another
tone. "We're off to-morrow morning."
id Bernard on whose face
"He said he wanted to go on
with the experiment. But I'm
damned," the Savage added, with sudden fury, "I'm
damned if I'll go on being experimented with. Not for all
the Controllers in the world.
l shall go away to-morrow
The Savage shrugged his shoulders. "Anywhere. I don't
I can be alone."
From Guildford the down-lin
Godalming, then, over Milford and Witley, proceeded to
compensatingly harder self-discipline, purifications the
they twinkled gaily with ge
on his equipment. Before leaving London he had bought
He had almost finished whittl
ing the stave into shape,
when he realized with a st
art that he was singing-
singing!
It was as though, stumbling upon himself from the
outside, he had suddenly caught himself out, taken
himself flagrantly at fault. Gu
iltily he blushed. After all, it
was not to sing and enjoy himself that he had come here.
It was to escape further co
ntamination by the filth of
civilized life; it was to be purified and made good; it was
actively to make amends. He
realized to his dismay that,
absorbed in the whittling of
his bow, he had forgotten
what he had sworn to himself he would constantly
rememberpoor Linda, and his own murderous
unkindness to her, and those loathsome twins, swarming
like lice across the mystery of
her death, insulting, with
their presence, not merely hi
s own grief and repentance,
but the very gods themselves. He had sworn to
remember, he had sworn unceasingly to make amends.
And there was he, sitting happily over his bow-stave,
He went indoors, opened the box of mustard, and put
Half an hour later, three De
lta-Minus landworkers from
one of the Puttenham Bokano
vsky Groups happened to
be driving to Elstead and, at
the top of the hill, were
astonished to see a young
man standing 0utside the
abandoned lighthouse stripped
to the waist and hitting
himself with a whip of knotted cords. His back was
horizontally streaked with crim
son, and from weal to weal
ran thin trickles of blood. Th
e driver of the lorry pulled up
at the side of the road and, with his two companions,
stared open-mouthed at th
One, two threethey counted the strokes. After the
eighth, the young man interrupted his self-punishment to
run to the wood's edge and th
ere be violently sick. When
he had finished, he picked up the whip and began hitting
"Ford!" whispered the driver.
And his twins were of the
"Fordey!" they said.
Three days later, like turk
he uncoiled two wires connected to the portable battery
buckled round his waist; plugged them simultaneously
into the sides of his aluminum hat; touched a spring on
the crownand antenn shot
up into the air; touched
another spring on the peak
of the brimand, like a jack-
in-the-box, out jumped a mi
crophone and hung there,
quivering, six inches in fron
t of his nose; pulled down a
pair of receivers over his ea
rs; pressed a switch on the
left side of the hat-and from within came a faint waspy
buzzing; turned a knob on th
ran the headlines on the front page. "SENSATION IN
"Sensation even in London,"
thought the reporter when,
"Well, that was grand!" he said to himself when it was all
over. "Really grand!" He moppe
d his face. When they had
put in the feely effects at
the studio, it would be a
wonderful film. Almost as
good, thought Darwin
Bonaparte, as the
and that, by
Twelve days later The Savage of Surrey had been
released and could be seen, he
ard and felt in every first-
The effect of Darwin Bonaparte's film was immediate and
enormous. On the af
ternoon which followed the evening
of its release John's rustic
solitude was suddenly broken
by the arrival overhead of a
great swarm of helicopters.
He was digging in his gardendigging, too, in his own
mind, laboriously turning up the substance of his
thought. Deathand he drov
e in his spade once, and
and him. He looked up, startled, from his digging, from
his thoughts; looked up in a dazzled bewilderment, his
mind still wandering in that
other world of truer-than-
truth, still focused on the imme
nsities of death and deity;
looked up and saw, close above him, the swarm of
hovering machines. Like locusts they came, hung poised,
descended all around him on
the heather. And from out
of the bellies of these giant
grasshoppers stepped men in
n (for the weather was hot)
Acting on the word's suggestio
n, he seized the bunch of
knotted cords from its nail behind the door and shook it
at his tormentors.
There was a yell of ironical applause.
Menacingly he advanced to
wards them. A woman cried
out in fear. The line wavere
d at its most immediately
threatened point, then sti
consciousness of being in ov
erwhelming force had given
which the Savage had not
expected of them. Taken abac
k, he halted and looked
"Why don't you leave me alo
ne?" There was an almost
"Have a few magnesium-salted
almonds!" said the man
who, if the Savage were to advance, would be the first to
reiteration, no other word was being spoken. "Wewant
Inaudibly, she spoke again
; then, with a quick,
Then suddenly somebody star
ted singing "Orgy-porgy"
and, in a moment, they had al
l caught up the refrain and,
singing, had begun to dance. Orgy-porgy, round and
round and round, beating one
another in six-eight time.
It was after midnight when the last of the helicopters
took its flight. Stupefied by
soma, and exhausted by a
long-drawn frenzy of sensu
ality, the Savage lay sleeping
in the heather. The sun was already high when he awoke.
He lay for a moment, blinking
in owlish incomprehension
rememberedeverything.
"Oh, my God, my God!" He covered his eyes with his
That evening the swarm of he
licopters that came buzzing
after a few seconds, turned as unhurriedly back towards

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