Astonishing the Gods (11 page)

And so, with much trepidation, he rose and climbed the stairs to the stage. When he got on stage he noticed that both sides of the stage wall were composed of glowing mirrors. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed them before. Then it occurred to him that they weren't there before.

Within the mirrors, there were worlds and realms and dazzling existences. The things he glimpsed filled him with a shining terror. He tried not to look into the mirrors again.

He stood near the table closest to the edge of the stage, and he could feel the illuminated presence of the invisible masters behind him. He could also sense the uplifting effect of the colours and symbols on the banners. He felt the stoic rectitude of the invisible city guild, and the benevolent patience of the master musicians.

While he stood there a glass of water appeared mysteriously before him. He drank the water, and the glass was retrieved back into invisibility. Something cleared in his head. The clarity within him felt amazing, as if he had been given a new consciousness. The silence became deeper in the hall. It was a silence so clear he felt the doors of a higher realm had been opened. When he looked around he was amazed to see how truly vast the hall was, and he was awestruck by the sheer collective force of the invisible congregation.

And then, to his horror, he found himself in two places at the same time. He was still on the stage, in the hall, surrounded by the dazzling Invisibles, his mind in darkness. And yet, simultaneously, he was at the threshold of the great hall, beneath the arches, flooded in an ineffable light. The light was so universal that he couldn't see.

He stood in the utter darkness of light, at the threshold, under the arch, in deep silence, when he heard again the question he hadn't answered three times before. But this time the question had changed and the voice asking it was angelic.

‘WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF INVISIBILITY?'

Again silence weighed down his mind. But as he stood there, trembling in his inability, he felt the presence of his third guide and, without thinking, replied:

‘PERFECTION.'

The lights became brighter, dissolving him in their deeper darkness. And the voice, more urgent, more seraphic, said:

‘WHAT IS THE DREAM OF THE INVISIBLES?'

The silence that swelled in his mind made him soar into the edges of the light, flailing in the air. He was helpless and stricken with terror. But before he started to scream, the spirit of his second guide came to him and, with his heart beating faster under the mystery of his own clarity, he cried:

‘TO CREATE THE FIRST UNIVERSAL CIVILISATION OF JUSTICE AND LOVE.'

After a brief silence, he heard strains of music. Then he saw, briefly, a faun playing on a flute. It played notes of such heartbreaking beauty that he started to weep. Then the music ceased, and the vision disappeared. The light and the darkness were now one.

And the voice, quieter now, almost inaudible, as if a deity was speaking with the register of the wind in the tall grass, said:

‘WHAT IS THE MYSTERY OF THE BRIDGE?'

Lost in the perfect equality of darkness and light, of silence and sound, he wandered in the cool spaces of the question. Not afraid anymore, but brimming with joy, he felt the presence of his first guide. And, with a smiling voice, he replied:

‘CREATIVITY, AND GRACE.'

At that moment he was overcome with light, flooded with a supernal intelligence. He could feel the appreciation of the Invisibles. He could feel the warm brilliance of their smiles. It was like a faint golden mist in the hall, a fragrance of sunlight. He became as a child.

A moment before he saw the congregation of the Invisibles as a host of luminous beings in vaporous white, he saw her mighty wings. He caught his breath. As if in a sublime dream, momentary as a vision of heaven, he saw her again, hovering above everything, conferring her benediction on all who are under her protection. He saw again – the liminal archangel of invisibility.

And as he stood there on the platform, dimly aware of the curious nature of his destiny, the most wonderful thing happened. He noticed something stirring within the mirror. And out of the mirror came a unicorn with a diamond horn. Before he could breathe, the unicorn trotted towards him silently. Then it stopped, and turned its mesmeric eyes upon him. Its horn was pointed heavenward.

Lost in the hypnotic eyes of the unicorn, he heard a sweet and primeval voice in the air say:

‘Because your heart is pure you have found without seeking, overcome without knowing that you overcame, and arrived here when all who have tried have failed. You were born invisible. For anyone to get here they must, one way or another, come through your condition. There is no other way.'

When the voice ceased he felt, quite suddenly, as if he were in a shining place of silver, where all the known laws were different.

Then the unicorn, shimmering in an emerald light, trotted away from him gracefully and went out through the other mirror, leaving the air tinged with its mysterious philosophies.

It came as a shock to him that as he looked into the glowing mirror, he could no longer see himself. He was not reflected there. However, just before he started to scream in mortal terror, he suddenly felt calm. He felt at one with the unknown happiness of the universe. He had become one of the Invisibles. It seems odd and beautiful that he who had left home in search of the secret of visibility should have found a higher invisibility, the invisibility of the blessed.

We hope you enjoyed this book.

Head of Zeus are proud to be reissuing a collection of Ben Okri's best works alongside his brand new novel,
The Age of Magic
:

Dangerous Love

In Arcadia

Astonishing the Gods

A Way of Being Free

Ben talks about the collection
here
.

For an exclusive preview
The Age of Magic,
read on or
click here
.

~

Ben Okri

More books by Ben Okri

An invitation from the publisher

It is for me a conjunction no less than magical that these five books are coming out together. The four reissues were first published in the nineties and in the early years of this century. They were all published within a few years, in one house, under the aegis of Anthony Cheetham, and are being re-published now, in a cluster, in another house, under Anthony's aegis. There is a kind of synchronous harmony to this, a kind of perfect circularity that is both satisfying and auspicious.

As a body of work, the four books link with each another in an unusual way. Each explores, from a different angle, the themes that are central to my writing. They are about the nature of reality, storytelling, enchantment, history, art and love. In each of these books I attempt something different.
Astonishing The Gods
is a short novel, written in a mode of enchantment, a kind of fable about visibility and invisibility, about ideals and ideas, and about the poetry of being. It was a major departure in my writing at the time it was written and remains one of my favourites.
A Way of Being Free
is a favourite with many of my readers, a book of semi-poetic essays on art, politics, storytelling, and creativity. I had been writing these private and public meditations since the eighties. They have been widely referenced and still remain much quoted online.

In 1996,
The Landscapes Within
, a novel written when I was in my twenties, was transfigured into
Dangerous Love
. This is a story about love and art, but also about the aftermath of the Nigerian Civil War – corruption, a lost generation, and a search for an artistic language with which to express the true nature of reality. It is a kind of twin to The Famished Road and many readers think it more accessible.

And then in 2002 came
In Arcadia
, a novel unlike any I had written till then, exploring the anomie of our times, travel, the quest for a salve for the anxious spirit of our age. It is also about television and the shadow of power.

Four different books radiating from an unmistakeable core. Readers who only think of me as the author of
The Famished Road
have a pleasant surprise coming. The four books look at poverty and the quest for happiness. They look at beauty and ugliness. They deal with the world of the real and the world of the fabulous. They look at Africa and they look at Europe.

What unites them all is an abiding sense of the mystery of life and the magical nature of storytelling. My writings are enchantments, even when they deal with difficult realities; because for me it is not the realities that define us, but the consciousness with which we experience and face them.

The Age of Magic
is the novel leading the procession into the world. For more than twelve years these four books have dwelt tenderly in the underworld. That their reincarnation is heralded by the birth of a new novel is entirely fitting.
The Age of Magic
is my first novel in seven years. That these five books are published by Head of Zeus is cause for celebration, cause for contemplating, with a sense of wonder, the nature of fate, and what charming bounties it promises.

Ben Okri

July 2014

Read on for a preview of

‘The Age of Magic has begun.
Unveil your eyes.'

Eight weary film-makers, travelling from Paris to Basel, arrive at a small Swiss hotel on the shores of a luminous lake. Above them, strewn with lights that twinkle in the darkness, looms the towering Rigi mountain. Over the course of three days and two nights, the travellers will find themselves drawn in to the mystery of the mountain reflected in the lake. One by one, they will be disturbed, enlightened, and transformed, each in a different way.

An intoxicating and dreamlike tale unfolds. Allow yourself to be transformed. Having shown a different way of seeing the world, Ben Okri now offers a different way of reading.

A work of art that retraced the conquest of happiness would be a revolutionary one.

Camus,
Noces
(1937)

The age of magic has begun.

Unveil your eyes.

Pensero,
Il Camino
(1321)

Some things only become clear much later.

They were on the train from Paris to Switzerland when the white mountains and the nursery rhythms of the wheels lulled him to sleep. He found himself talking to a Quylph.

‘What are you afraid of?' it said.

‘Why should I be afraid of anything?' Lao replied.

‘Maybe you are afraid of Malasso?'

‘Why should I be afraid of him?'

‘Everyone else is.'

‘I don't know him.'

‘People are afraid of what they don't know.'

‘Never met him. Why should I be scared of him?'

‘You tell me.'

Lao became aware, out of the corner of his eyes, that everything seemed luminous. In a compartment full of businessmen, tourists, and young lovers the Quylph looked perfectly at ease. This bothered Lao.

‘Then it must be life you are afraid of,' the Quylph said after a while.

There are some conversations so strange that they are only remembered much later, but not noticed at the time.

The Quylph, in a unique space, occupied the seat across from Lao. He felt lucky to see it.

With a hint of amusement, it said:

‘Do you know what the luckiest thing is?'

‘No.'

‘It is to be at home everywhere.'

Outside the window the mountains changed from white to green.

‘You may see me again later,' smiled the Quylph. ‘But don't look out for me.'

‘Wait! I want to ask you a question.'

‘You had your chance,' the Quylph said with an expression at once malicious and droll. ‘Be more awake next time.'