Whipped Cream Difficulties

I’ve always liked Alfred Bester’s The Stars My Destination (also known as Tiger, Tiger in the UK).

The last chapter struck me rather forcefully the first time I read it. Especially the ending: I’m putting this quote behind a jump because it contains possible spoilers for the book.

Foyle shook himself and abruptly jaunted to the bronze head of Eros, fifty feet above the counter of Piccadilly Circus. He perched precariously and bawled: “Listen a me, all you! Listen, man! Gonna sermonize, me. Dig this, you!”
He was answered with a roar.
“You pigs, you. You rut like pigs, is all. You got the most in you, and you use the least. You hear me, you? Got a million in you and spend pennies. Got a genius in you and think crazies. Got a heart in you and feel empties. All a you. Every you …”
He was jeered. He continued with the hysterical passion of the possessed.
“Take a war to make you spend. Take a jam to make you think. Take a challenge to make you great. Rest of the time you sit around lazy, you. Pigs, you! All right, God damn you! I challenge you, me. Die or live and be great. Blow yourselves to Christ gone or come and find me, Gully Foyle, and I make you men. I make you great. I give you the stars.”
He disappeared.

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 29th, 2012 at 11:08 am and is filed under Books. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.