Through the gates of the silver keyLovecraft, H. P. (Howard Phillips)
Science
Through the gates of the silver key
Lovecraft, H. P. (Howard Phillips)
Fantasy fiction; Horror tales; Paranormal fiction
After an impressive pause the waves continued, saying that what the
denizens of few-dimensioned zones call change is merely a function
of their consciousness, which views the external world from various
cosmic angles. As the Shapes produced by the cutting of a cone seem to
vary with the angles of cutting--being circle, ellipse, parabola or
hyperbola according to that angle, yet without any change in the cone
itself--so do the local aspects of an unchanged and endless reality
seem to change with the cosmic angle of regarding. To this variety
of angles of consciousness the feeble beings of the inner worlds are
slaves, since with rare exceptions they can not learn to control them.
Only a few students of forbidden things have gained inklings of this
control, and have thereby conquered time and change. But the entities
outside the Gates command all angles, and view the myriad parts of the
cosmos in terms of fragmentary change-involving perspective, or of the
changeless totality beyond perspective, in accordance with their will.
As the waves paused again, Carter began to comprehend, vaguely
and terrifiedly, the ultimate background of that riddle of lost
individuality which had at first so horrified him. His intuition pieced
together the fragments of revelation, and brought him closer and closer
to a grasp of the secret. He understood that much of the frightful
revelation would have come upon him--splitting up his ego amongst
myriads of earthly counterparts--inside the First Gate, had not the
magic of 'Umr at-Tawil kept it from him in order that he might use the
silver key with precision for the Ultimate Gate's opening. Anxious for
clearer knowledge, he sent out waves of thought, asking more of the
exact relationship between his various facets--the fragment now beyond
the Ultimate Gate, the fragment still on the quasi-hexagonal pedestal
beyond the First Gate, the boy of 1883, the man of 1928, the various
ancestral beings who had formed his heritage and the bulwark of his
ego, and the nameless denizens of the other eons and other worlds which
that first hideous flash of ultimate perception had identified with
him. Slowly the waves of the Being surged out in reply, trying to make
plain what was almost beyond the reach of an earthly mind.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account