“Yes, that’s so.”
“In your telling of the story, you naturally left out any mention of the gods, because you didn’t want it to be tainted with mythology. Since its mythological character is now established, you no longer have to worry about that. Supposing there is a divine agency behind creation, what can you tell me about the gods’ intentions?”
“Well, basically, what they had in mind when they started out was man. They made the universe so that our galaxy could be in it. They made the galaxy so that our solar system could be in it. They made our solar system so that our planet could be in it. And they made our planet so that we could be in it. The whole thing was made so that man would have a hunk of dirt to stand on.”
“And this is generally how it’s understood in your culture—at least by those who assume that the universe is an expression of divine intentions.”
“Yes.”
“Obviously, since the entire universe was made so that man could be made, man must be a creature of enormous importance to the gods. But this part of the story gives no hint of their intentions toward him. They must have some special destiny in mind for him, but that’s not revealed here.”
“True.”
6
“Every story is based on a premise, is the working out of a premise. As a writer, I’m sure you know that.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll recognize this one: Two children of warring families fall in love.”
“Right. Romeo and Juliet.”
“The story being enacted in the world by the Takers also has a premise, which is embodied in the part of the story you told me today. See if you can figure out what it is.”
I closed my eyes and pretended I was working hard, when in fact I knew I didn’t stand a chance. “I’m afraid I don’t see it.”
“The story the Leavers have enacted in the world has an entirely different premise, and it would be impossible for you to discover it at this point. But you should be able to discover the premise of your own story. It’s a very simple notion and the most powerful in all of human history. Not necessarily the most beneficial but certainly the most powerful. Your entire history, with all its marvels and catastrophes, is a working out of this premise.”
“Truthfully, I can’t even imagine what you’re getting at.”
“Think…. Look, the world wasn’t made for jellyfish, was it?”
“No.”
“It wasn’t made for frogs or lizards or rabbits.”
“No.”
“Of course not. The world was made for man.”
“That’s right.”
“Everyone in your culture knows that, don’t they? Even atheists who swear there is no god know that the world was made for man.”
“Yes, I’d say so.”
“All right. That’s the premise of your story: The world was made for man.”
“I can’t quite grasp it. I mean, I can’t quite see why it’s a premise.”
“The people of your culture made it a premise—took it as a premise. They said: What if the world was made for us?”
“Okay. Keep going.”
“Think of the consequences of taking that as your premise: If
the world was made for you, then what?”