Flatland: A Romance of Many DimensionsAbbott, Edwin Abbott
Science
Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions
Abbott, Edwin Abbott
Fourth dimension
2. Whether I could by any diagrams or descriptions (other than the
enumeration of imaginary sides and angles) indicate the Figure I was
pleased to call a Cube?
I declared that I could say nothing more, and that I must commit myself
to the Truth, whose cause would surely prevail in the end.
The President replied that he quite concurred in my sentiment, and that
I could not do better. I must be sentenced to perpetual imprisonment;
but if the Truth intended that I should emerge from prison and
evangelize the world, the Truth might be trusted to bring that result
to pass. Meanwhile I should be subjected to no discomfort that was not
necessary to preclude escape, and, unless I forfeited the privilege by
misconduct, I should be occasionally permitted to see my brother who
had preceded me to my prison.
Seven years have elapsed and I am still a prisoner, and—if I except the
occasional visits of my brother—debarred from all companionship save
that of my jailers. My brother is one of the best of Squares, just,
sensible, cheerful, and not without fraternal affection; yet I confess
that my weekly interviews, at least in one respect, cause me the
bitterest pain. He was present when the Sphere manifested himself in
the Council Chamber; he saw the Sphere’s changing sections; he heard
the explanation of the phenomena then give to the Circles. Since that
time, scarcely a week has passed during seven whole years, without his
hearing from me a repetition of the part I played in that
manifestation, together with ample descriptions of all the phenomena in
Spaceland, and the arguments for the existence of Solid things
derivable from Analogy. Yet—I take shame to be forced to confess it—my
brother has not yet grasped the nature of Three Dimensions, and frankly
avows his disbelief in the existence of a Sphere.
Hence I am absolutely destitute of converts, and, for aught that I can
see, the millennial Revelation has been made to me for nothing.
Prometheus up in Spaceland was bound for bringing down fire for
mortals, but I—poor Flatland Prometheus—lie here in prison for bringing
down nothing to my countrymen. Yet I existing the hope that these
memoirs, in some manner, I know not how, may find their way to the
minds of humanity in Some Dimension, and may stir up a race of rebels
who shall refuse to be confined to limited Dimensionality.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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