The Point of View Read online

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  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _A Martian Odyssey and Others_ published in 1949. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.

  THE POINT OF VIEW

  "I am too modest!" snapped the great Haskel van Manderpootz, pacingirritably about the limited area of his private laboratory, glaring atme the while. "That is the trouble. I undervalue my own achievements,and thereby permit petty imitators like Corveille to influence thecommittee and win the Morell prize."

  "But," I said soothingly, "you've won the Morell physics award half adozen times, professor. They can't very well give it to you every year."

  "Why not, since it is plain that I deserve it?" bristled the professor."Understand, Dixon, that I do not regret my modesty, even though itpermits conceited fools like Corveille, who have infinitely less reasonthan I for conceit, to win awards that mean nothing save prizes forsuccessful bragging. Bah! To grant an award for research along suchobvious lines that I neglected to mention them, thinking that even aMorell judge would appreciate their obviousness! Research on thepsychon, eh! Who discovered the psychon? Who but van Manderpootz?"

  "Wasn't that what you got last year's award for?" I asked consolingly."And after all, isn't this modesty, this lack of jealousy on your part,a symbol of greatness of character?"

  "True--true!" said the great van Manderpootz, mollified. "Had such anaffront been committed against a lesser man than myself, he woulddoubtless have entered a bitter complaint against the judges. But not I.Anyway, I know from experience that it wouldn't do any good. Andbesides, despite his greatness, van Manderpootz is as modest andshrinking as a violet." At this point he paused, and his broad red facetried to look violet-like.

  I suppressed a smile. I knew the eccentric genius of old, from the dayswhen I had been Dixon Wells, undergraduate student of engineering, andhad taken a course in Newer Physics (that is, in Relativity) under thefamous professor. For some unguessable reason, he had taken a fancy tome, and as a result, I had been involved in several of his experimentssince graduation. There was the affair of the subjunctivisor, forinstance, and also that of the idealizator; in the first of theseepisodes I had suffered the indignity of falling in love with a girl twoweeks after she was apparently dead, and in the second, the equal orgreater indignity of falling in love with a girl who didn't exist, neverhad existed, and never would exist--in other words, with an ideal.Perhaps I'm a little susceptible to feminine charms, or rather, perhapsI used to be, for since the disaster of the idealizator, I have grimlyrelegated such follies to the past, much to the disgust of various'vision entertainers, singers, dancers, and the like.

  So of late I had been spending my days very seriously, tryingwholeheartedly to get to the office on time just once, so that I couldrefer to it next time my father accused me of never getting anywhere ontime. I hadn't succeeded yet, but fortunately the N. J. WellsCorporation was wealthy enough to survive even without the full-timeservices of Dixon Wells, or should I say even _with_ them? Anyway, I'msure my father preferred to have me late in the morning after an eveningwith van Manderpootz than after one with Tips Alva or Whimsy White, orone of the numerous others of the ladies of the 'vision screen. Even inthe twenty-first century, he retained a lot of old-fashioned ideas.

  Van Manderpootz had ceased to remember that he was as modest andshrinking as a violet. "It has just occurred to me," he announcedimpressively, "that years have character much as humans have. This year,2015, will be remembered in history as a very stupid year, in which theMorell prize was given to a nincompoop. Last year, on the other hand,was a very intelligent year, a jewel in the crown of civilization. Notonly was the Morell prize given to van Manderpootz, but I announced mydiscrete field theory in that year, and the University unveiled Gogli'sstatue of me as well." He sighed. "Yes, a very intelligent year! What doyou think?"

  "It depends on how you look at it," I responded glumly. "I didn't enjoyit so much, what with Joanna Caldwell and Denise d'Agrion, and yourinfernal experiments. It's all in the point of view."

  The professor snorted. "Infernal experiments, eh! Point of view! Ofcourse it's all in the point of view. Even Einstein's simple littlesynthesis was enough to prove that. If the whole world could adopt anintelligent and admirable point of view--that of van Manderpootz, forinstance--all troubles would be over. If it were possible--" He paused,and an expression of amazed wonder spread over his ruddy face.

  "What's the matter?" I asked.

  "Matter? I am astonished! The astounding depths of genius awe me. I amoverwhelmed with admiration at the incalculable mysteries of a greatmind."

  "I don't get the drift."

  "Dixon," he said impressively, "you have been privileged to look upon anexample of the workings of a genius. More than that, you have plantedthe seed from which perhaps shall grow the towering tree of thought.Incredible as it seems, you, Dixon Wells, have given van Manderpootz anidea! It is thus that genius seizes upon the small, the unimportant, thenegligible, and turns it to its own grand purposes. I stand awe-struck!"

  "But what--?"

  "Wait," said van Manderpootz, still in rapt admiration of the majesty ofhis own mind. "When the tree bears fruit, you shall see it. Until then,be satisfied that you have played a part in its planting."

  * * * * *

  It was perhaps a month before I saw van Manderpootz again, but onebright spring evening his broad, rubicund face looked out of thephone-screen at me.

  "It's ready," he announced impressively.

  "What is?"

  The professor looked pained at the thought that I could have forgotten."The tree has borne fruit," he explained. "If you wish to drop over tomy quarters, we'll proceed to the laboratory and try it out. I do notset a time, so that it will be utterly impossible for you to be late."

  I ignored that last dig, but had a time been set, I would doubtlesshave been even later than usual, for it was with some misgivings that Iinduced myself to go at all. I still remembered the unpleasantness of mylast two experiences with the inventions of van Manderpootz. However, atlast we were seated in the small laboratory, while out in the larger onethe professor's technical assistant, Carter, puttered over some device,and in the far corner his secretary, the plain and unattractive MissFitch, transcribed lecture notes, for van Manderpootz abhorred thethought that his golden utterances might be lost to posterity. On thetable between the professor and myself lay a curious device, somethingthat looked like a cross between a pair of nose-glasses and a miner'slamp.

  "There it is," said van Manderpootz proudly. "There lies myattitudinizor, which may well become an epoch-making device."

  "How? What does it do?"

  "I will explain. The germ of the idea traces back to that remark ofyours about everything depending on the point of view. A very obviousstatement, of course, but genius seizes on the obvious and draws from itthe obscure. Thus the thoughts of even the simplest mind can suggest tothe man of genius his sublime conceptions, as is evident from the factthat I got this idea from you."

  "What idea?"

  "Be patient. There is much you must understand first. You must realizejust how true is the statement that everything depends on the point ofview. Einstein proved that motion, space, and time depend on theparticular point of view of the observer, or as he expressed it, on thescale of reference used. I go farther than that, infinitely farther. Ipropound the theory that the observer _is_ the point of view. I go evenbeyond that, I maintain that the world itself is merely the point ofview!"

 
; "Huh?"

  "Look here," proceeded van Manderpootz. "It is obvious that the world Isee is entirely different from the one in which you live. It is equallyobvious that a strictly religious man occupies a different world thanthat of a materialist. The fortunate man lives in a happy world; theunfortunate man sees a world of misery. One man is happy with little,another is miserable with much. Each sees the world from his own pointof view, which is the same as saying that each lives in his own world.Therefore there are as many worlds as there are points of view."

  "But," I objected, "that theory is to disregard reality. Out of all thedifferent points of view, there must be