“I think I’ve just been stung by a gadfly.”
“It was probably Socrates trying to sting you into life.”
Sophie lay down on the grass and tried to push the glider. But it remained motionless. Or did she manage to get it to move a millimeter?
“There’s a chilly breeze coming up,” said Hilde.
“No, there isn’t. It’s very mild.”
“It’s not only that. There is something.”
“Only the two of us and the cool summer night.”
“No, there’s something in the air.”
“And what might that be?”
“You remember Alberto and his secret plan?”
“How could I forget!”
“They simply disappeared from the garden party. It was as if they had vanished into thin air . . .”
“Yes, but...”
“... into thin air.”
“The story had to end somewhere. It was just something I wrote.”
“That was, yes, but not what happened afterward. Suppose they were here . . .”
“Do you believe that?”
“I can feel it, Dad.”
Sophie ran back to the car.
“Impressive,” said Alberto grudgingly as she climbed on board clasping the wrench tightly in her hand. “You have unusual talents, Sophie. Just wait and see.”
The major put his arm around Hilde.
“Do you hear the mysterious play of the waves?”
“Yes. We must get the boat in the water tomorrow.”
“But do you hear the strange whispering of the wind? Look how the aspen leaves are trembling.”
“The planet is alive, you know ...”
“You wrote that there was something between the lines.”
“I did?”
“Perhaps there is something between the lines in this garden too.”
“Nature is full of enigmas. But we are talking about stars in the sky.”
“Soon there will be stars on the water.”
“That’s right. That’s what you used to say about phosphorescence when you were little. And in a sense you were right. Phosphorescence and all other organisms are made of elements that were once blended together in a star.”
“Us too?”
“Yes, we too are stardust.”
“That was beautifully put.”
“When radio telescopes can pick up light from distant galaxies billions of light-years away, they will be charting the universe as it looked in primeval times after the Big Bang. Everything we can see in the sky is a cosmic fossil from thousands and millions of years ago. The only thing an astrologer can do is predict the past.”
“Because the stars in the constellations moved away from each other long before their light reached us, right?”
“Even two thousand years ago, the constellations looked considerably different from the way they look today.”
“I never knew that.”
“If it’s a clear night, we can see millions, even billions of years back into the history of the universe. So in a way, we are going home.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You and I also began with the Big Bang, because all substance in the universe is an organic unity. Once in a primeval age all matter was gathered in a clump so enormously massive that a pinhead weighed many billions of tons. This ‘primeval atom’ exploded because of the enormous gravitation. It was as if something disintegrated. When we look up at the sky, we are trying to find the way back to ourselves.”
“What an extraordinary thing to say.”
“All the stars and galaxies in the universe are made of the same substance. Parts of it have lumped themselves together, some here, some there. There can be billions of light-years between one galaxy and the next. But they all have the same origin. All stars and all planets belong to the same family.”
“Yes, I see.”
“But what is this earthly substance? What was it that exploded that time billions of years ago? Where did it come from?”
“That is the big question.”
“And a question that concerns us all very deeply. For we ourselves are of that substance. We are a spark from the great fire that was ignited many billions of years ago.”
“That’s a beautiful thought too.”
“However, we must not exaggerate the importance of these figures. It is enough just to hold a stone in your hand. The universe would have been equally incomprehensible if it had only consisted of that one stone the size of an orange. The question would be just as impenetrable: where did this stone come from?”
Sophie suddenly stood up in the red convertible and pointed out over the bay.
“I want to try the rowboat,” she said.
“It’s tied up. And we would never be able to lift the oars.”
“Shall we try? After all, it is Midsummer Eve.”
“We can go down to the water, at any rate.”
They jumped out of the car and ran down the garden.
They tried to loosen the rope that was made fast in a metal ring. But they could not even lift one end.
“It’s as good as nailed down,” said Alberto.
“We’ve got plenty of time.”
“A true philosopher must never give up. If we could just... get it loose . . .”
“There are more stars now,” said Hilde.
“Yes, when the summer night is darkest.”
“But they sparkle more in winter. Do you remember the night before you left for Lebanon? It was New Year’s Day.”
“That was when I decided to write a book about philosophy for you. I had been to a large bookstore in Kris-tiansand and to the library too. But they had nothing suitable for young people.”
“It’s as if we are sitting at the very tip of the fine hairs in the white rabbit’s fur.”
“I wonder if there is anyone out there in the night of the light-years?”
“The rowboat has worked itself loose!”
“So it has!”
“I don’t understand it. I went down and checked it just before you got here.”
“Did you?”
“It reminds me of when Sophie borrowed Alberto’s boat. Do you remember how it lay drifting out in the lake?”
“I bet it’s her at work again.”
“Go ahead and make fun of me. All evening, I’ve been able to feel someone here.”
“One of us will have to swim out to it.”
“We’ll both go, Dad.”
The End
Reviews:
More praise for the international bestseller that has become “Europe’s oddball literary sensation of the decade”
(New York Newsday)
“A page-turner.” —Entertainment Weekly
“First, think of a beginner’s guide to philosophy, written by a schoolteacher ... Next, imagine a fantasy novel— something like a modern-day version of Through the Looking Glass. Meld these disparate genres, and what do you get? Well, what you get is an improbable international bestseller ... a runaway hit... [a] tour deforce.”
—Time
“Compelling.” —Los Angeles Times
“Its depth of learning, its intelligence and its totally original conception give it enormous magnetic appeal ... To be fully human, and to feel our continuity with 3,000 years of philosophical inquiry, we need to put ourselves in Sophie’s world.” —Boston Sunday Globe
“Involving and often humorous.” —USA Today
“In the adroit hands of Jostein Gaarder, the whole sweep of three millennia of Western philosophy is rendered as lively as a gossip column ... Literary sorcery of the first rank.” —Fort Worth Star-Telegram
“A comprehensive history of Western philosophy as recounted to a 14-year-old Norwegian schoolgirl... The book will serve as a first-rate introduction to anyone who never took an introductory philosophy course, and as a pleasant refresher for those who have and have forgotten most of it... [Sophie’s mother] is a marvelous comic foil.” �
�Newsweek
“Terrifically entertaining and imaginative ... I’ll read Sophie’s World again.” —Daily Mail
“What is admirable in the novel is the utter unpretentious-ness of the philosophical lessons, the plain and workmanlike prose which manages to deliver Western philosophy in accounts that are crystal clear. It is heartening to know that a book subtitled
“’A Novel About the History of Philosophy’ was not only a bestseller in France, but for a while Europe’s hottest novel.”
—The Washington Post Book World
“A rare bird indeed, a short history of Western philosophical thought from Socrates to Sartre, coyly embedded in the wrapping of a suspense novel.” —New York Newsday
“A simply wonderful, irresistible book ... a cross between Bertrand Russell’s History of Western Philosophy and Alice in Wonderland.” —The Daily Telegraph
“An exciting trek into, the realm of thought, from the ancient philosophers’ school of Athens to the Konigsberg of Kant... and a brilliant success.” -Der Spiegel
“Intelligently written... an enchanting way to learn philosophy.” —Baton Rouge Magazine
“Just as remarkable for its playful premise as it is for its accessibility ... The essential charm of Sophie’s World lies in the innocent curiosity of the young character, and the clever narrative structure Gaarder designed to pique it.”
—Columbus Dispatch
Sophie's World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy Page 53