Through the Eye of the Needle: A Romance

  VIII

  We have since been at other weddings and at christenings and at funerals.The ceremonies are always held in the temples, and are always in the sameserious spirit. As the Altrurians are steadfast believers in immortality,there is a kind of solemn elevation in the funeral ceremonies which Icannot give you a real notion of. It is helped, I think, by the custom ofnot performing the ceremony over the dead; a brief rite is reserved forthe cemetery, where it is wished that the kindred shall not be present,lest they think always of the material body and not of the spiritual bodywhich shall be raised in incorruption. Religious service is held in thetemples every day at the end of the Obligatories, and whenever we arenear a village or in any of the capitals we always go. It is very simple.After a hymn, to which the people sometimes march round the interior ofthe temple, each lays on the altar an offering from the fields or woodswhere they have been working, if it is nothing but a head of grain or awild flower or a leaf. Then any one is at liberty to speak, but any oneelse may go out without offence. There is no ritual; sometimes they reada chapter from the New Testament, preferably a part of the story ofChrist or a passage from His discourses. The idea of coming to the templeat the end of the day's labor is to consecrate that day's work, and theydo not call anything work that is not work with the hands. When Iexplained, or tried to explain, that among us a great many people workedwith their brains, to amuse others or to get handwork out of them, theywere unable to follow me. I asked if they did not consider composingmusic or poetry or plays, or painting pictures work, and they said, No,that was pleasure, and must be indulged only during the Voluntaries; itwas never to be honored like work with the hands, for it would notequalize the burden of that, but might put an undue share of it onothers. They said that lives devoted to such pursuits must be veryunwholesome, and they brought me to book about the lives of most artists,literary men, and financiers in the capitalistic world to prove what theysaid. They held that people must work with their hands willingly, in theartistic spirit, but they could only do that when they knew that othersdifferently gifted were working in like manner with their hands.

  I couldn't begin to tell you all our queer experiences. As I have keptsaying, I am a great curiosity everywhere, and I could flatter myselfthat people were more eager to see me than to hear Aristides. Sometimes Icouldn't help thinking that they expected to find me an awful warning, adreadful example of whatever a woman ought not to be, and a woman fromcapitalistic conditions must be logically. But sometimes they were veryintelligent, even the simplest villagers, as we should call them, thoughthere is such an equality of education and opportunity here that nosimplicity of life has the effect of dulling people as it has with us.One thing was quite American: they always wanted to know how I likedAltruria, and when I told them, as I sincerely could, that I adored it,they were quite affecting in their pleasure. They generally asked if Iwould like to go back to America, and when I said No, they were delightedbeyond anything. They said I must become a citizen and vote and take partin the government, for that was every woman's duty as well as right; itwas wrong to leave the whole responsibility to the men. They asked ifAmerican women took no interest in the government, and when I told themthere was a very small number who wished to influence politics socially,as the Englishwomen did, but without voting or taking any responsibility,they were shocked. In one of the Regionic capitals they wanted me tospeak after Aristides, but I had nothing prepared; at the next I did getoff a little speech in English, which he translated after me. Later heput it into Altrurian, and I memorized it, and made myself immenselypopular by parroting it.

  The pronunciation of Altrurian is not difficult, for it is spelledphonetically, and the sounds are very simple. Where they were oncedifficult they have been simplified, for here the simplification of lifeextends to everything; and the grammar has been reduced in its structuretill it is as elemental as English grammar or Norwegian. The language isGreek in origin, but the intricate inflections and the declensions havebeen thrown away, and it has kept only the simplest forms. You must getMr. Twelvemough to explain this to you, Dolly, for it would take me toolong, and I have so much else to tell you. A good many of the women havetaken up English, but they learn it as a dead language, and they give ita comical effect by trying to pronounce it as it is spelled.

  I suppose you are anxious, if these letters which are piling up andpiling up should ever reach you, or even start to do so, to knowsomething about the Altrurian cities, and what they are like. Well, inthe first place, you must cast all images of American cities out of yourmind, or any European cities, except, perhaps, the prettiest andstateliest parts of Paris, where there is a regular sky-line, and thepublic buildings and monuments are approached through shaded avenues.There are no private houses here, in our sense--that is, houses whichpeople have built with their own money on their own land, and made asugly outside and as molestive to their neighbors and the passers-by asthey chose. As the buildings belong to the whole people, the firstrequirement is that they shall be beautiful inside and out. There are afew grand edifices looking like Greek temples, which are used for thegovernment offices, and these are, of course, the most dignified, but thedwellings are quite as attractive and comfortable. They are built roundcourts, with gardens and flowers in the courts, and wide grassy spacesround them. They are rather tall, but never so tall as our great hotelsor apartment-houses, and the floors are brought to one level byelevators, which are used only in the capitals; and, generally speaking,I should say the villages were pleasanter than the cities. In fact, thevillage is the Altrurian ideal, and there is an effort everywhere toreduce the size of the towns and increase the number of the villages.The outlying farms have been gathered into these, and now there is notone of those lonely places in the country, like those where our farmerstoil alone outdoors and their wives alone indoors, and both go madso often in the solitude. The villages are almost in sight of each other,and the people go to their fields in company, while the women carry ontheir house-keeping co-operatively, with a large kitchen which theyuse in common; they have their meals apart or together, as they like. Ifany one is sick or disabled the neighbors come in and help do her work,as they used with us in the early times, and as they still do in countryplaces. Village life here is preferred, just as country life is inEngland, and one thing that will amuse you, with your American ideas, andyour pride in the overgrowth of our cities: the Altrurian papers solemnlyannounce from time to time that the population of such or such a capitalhas been reduced so many hundreds or thousands since the last census.That means that the villages in the neighborhood have been increased innumber and population.

  Meanwhile, I must say the capitals are delightful: clean, airy, quiet,with the most beautiful architecture, mostly classic and mostly marble,with rivers running through them and round them, and every realconvenience, but not a clutter of artificial conveniences, as with us. Inthe streets there are noiseless trolleys (where they have not beenreplaced by public automobiles) which the long distances of the ampleground-plan make rather necessary, and the rivers are shot over withswift motor-boats; for the short distances you always expect to walk, orif you don't expect it, you walk anyway. The car-lines and boat-lines arepublic, and they are free, for the Altrurians think that the communityowes transportation to every one who lives beyond easy reach of thepoints which their work calls them to.

  Of course the great government stores are in the capitals, andpractically there are no stores in the villages, except for what youmight call emergency supplies. But you must not imagine, Dolly, thatshopping, here, is like shopping at home--or in America, as I am learningto say, for Altruria is home now. That is, you don't fill your purse withbank-notes, or have things charged. You get everything you want, withinreason, and certainly everything you need, for nothing. You have only toprovide yourself with a card, something like that you have to show at theArmy and Navy Stores in London, when you first go to buy there, whichcertifies that you belong to this or that working-phalanx, and that youhave not failed in the
Obligatories for such and such a length of time.If you are not entitled to this card, you had better not go shopping, forthere is no possible equivalent for it which will enable you to carryanything away or have it sent to your house. At first I could not helpfeeling rather indignant when I was asked to show my work-card in thestores; I had usually forgotten to bring it, or sometimes I had broughtmy husband's card, which would not do at all, unless I could say that Ihad been ill or disabled, for a woman is expected to work quite the sameas a man. Of course her housework counts, and as we are on a sort ofpublic mission, they count our hours of travel as working-hours,especially as Aristides has made it a point of good citizenship for us tostop every now and then and join in the Obligatories when the villagerswere getting in the farm crops or quarrying stone or putting up a house.I am never much use in quarrying or building, but I come in strong in thehay-fields or the apple orchards or the orange groves.

  The shopping here is not so enslaving as it is with us--I mean, withyou--because the fashions do not change, and you get things only when youneed them, not when you want them, or when other people think you do. Thecostume was fixed long ago, when the Altrurian era began, by a commissionof artists, and it would be considered very bad form as well as badmorals to try changing it in the least. People are allowed to choosetheir own colors, but if one goes very wrong, or so far wrong as tooffend the public taste, she is gently admonished by the local artcommission. If she insists, they let her have her own way, but she seldomwants it when she knows that people think her a fright. Of course thecostume is modified somewhat for the age and shape of the wearer, butthis is not so often as you might think. There are no very lean or verystout people, though there are old and young, just as there are with us.But the Altrurians keep young very much longer than capitalistic peoplesdo, and the life of work keeps down their weight. You know I used toincline a little to over-plumpness, I really believe because I overate attimes simply to keep from thinking of the poor who had to undereat, butthat is quite past now; I have lost at least twenty-five pounds fromworking out-doors and travelling so much and living very, very simply.