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Robert W. Chambers: In Search of the Unknown Author of The King in Yellow
This is the second volume of writings by Shawn M. Tomlinson about Robert W. Chambers, author of The King in Yellow. The first, Robert W. Chambers: Maker of Moons: Author of The King in Yellow Unmasked, contains the biography of Chambers along with extensive bibliographic details and other related material. This second volume collects the original articles and columns Tomlinson wrote about Chambers during his quest to complete the biography over a period of many years. Also included are more photographs of Chambers' estate, Broadalbin House, as well as two of Tomlinson's photography columns, Photo Curmudgeon, focused upon Chambers.
In Search of the Miraculous: Fragments of an Unknown Teaching
Author: Peter Demianovich Ouspensky
language: en
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Release Date: 1957-01-01
Return from India. The war and the search for the miraculous. Old thoughts The question of schools. Plans for further travels. The East and Europe. A notice in a Moscow newspaper. Lectures on India. The meeting with G. A distinguished man. The first talk, G's opinion on schools. G's group. Glimpses of Truth. Further meetings and talks. The organization of G's Moscow group The question of payment and of means for the work. The question of secrecy and of the obligations accepted by the pupils. A talk about the East. Philosophy, theory, and practice. How was the system found G's ideas. Man is a machine governed by external influences Everything happens. Nobody does anything In order to do it is necessary to be. A man is responsible for his actions, a machine is not responsible. Is psychology necessary for the study of machines The promise of facts. Can wars be stopped A talk about the planets and the moon as living beings. The intelligence of the sun and the earth. Subjective and objective art.
In Search of the Unknown
Author: Robert William Chambers
language: en
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Release Date: 2020-09-28
Because it all seems so improbableÑso horribly impossible to me now, sitting here safe and sane in my own libraryÑI hesitate to record an episode which already appears to me less horrible than grotesque. Yet, unless this story is written now, I know I shall never have the courage to tell the truth about the matterÑnot from fear of ridicule, but because I myself shall soon cease to credit what I now know to be true. Yet scarcely a month has elapsed since I heard the stealthy purring of what I believed to be the shoaling undertowÑscarcely a month ago, with my own eyes, I saw that which, even now, I am beginning to believe never existed. As for the harbor-masterÑand the blow I am now striking at the old order of thingsÑBut of that I shall not speak now, or later; I shall try to tell the story simply and truthfully, and let my friends testify as to my probity and the publishers of this book corroborate them. On the 29th of February I resigned my position under the government and left Washington to accept an offer from Professor FarragoÑwhose name he kindly permits me to useÑand on the first day of April I entered upon my new and congenial duties as general superintendent of the water-fowl department connected with the Zoological Gardens then in course of erection at Bronx Park, New York. For a week I followed the routine, examining the new foundations, studying the architect's plans, following the surveyors through the Bronx thickets, suggesting arrangements for water-courses and pools destined to be included in the enclosures for swans, geese, pelicans, herons, and such of the waders and swimmers as we might expect to acclimate in Bronx Park. It was at that time the policy of the trustees and officers of the Zoological Gardens neither to employ collectors nor to send out expeditions in search of specimens. The society decided to depend upon voluntary contributions, and I was always busy, part of the day, in dictating answers to correspondents who wrote offering their services as hunters of big game, collectors of all sorts of fauna, trappers, snarers, and also to those who offered specimens for sale, usually at exorbitant rates. To the proprietors of five-legged kittens, mangy lynxes, moth-eaten coyotes, and dancing bears I returned courteous but uncompromising refusalsÑof course, first submitting all such letters, together with my replies, to Professor Farrago. One day towards the end of May, however, just as I was leaving Bronx Park to return to town, Professor Lesard, of the reptilian department, called out to me that Professor Farrago wanted to see me a moment; so I put my pipe into my pocket again and retraced my steps to the temporary, wooden building occupied by Professor Farrago, general superintendent of the Zoological Gardens. The professor, who was sitting at his desk before a pile of letters and replies submitted for approval by me, pushed his glasses down and looked over them at me with a whimsical smile that suggested amusement, impatience, annoyance, and perhaps a faint trace of apology.