|
 JealousyThese are relevant references from the Books where Jealousy is mentioned. I make no pronouncements on these matters, but report them as I find them. Arrive at your own conclusions. I wish you well, Fogaban Jealous - Envious, Covetous, Resentful Jealous - Protective, Defensive, Vigilant
"He is a fortunate fellow," I remarked, "to have two such women." "They are jealous of one another," confided the girl. "Oh?" I asked. "Yes," she said, "each will try to please her master more than the other, that she will be his favorite." Some slaves, I knew, were even intensely jealous of so little as a dish or a cup which, probably because of use, they had come to regard as their own. Flaminius laughed delightedly. "That is an arrogant slave," he said. "I would not mind getting my hands on her myself, but Ho-Tu would not permit it. Ho-Tu is insanely jealous of her, and she only a slave! By the way, Ho-Tu was looking for you this evening." "Do not send me back to your men," she begged. "Keep Sandra for yourself." "We shall see," I said. "Sandra wants much to please Master," she said. Wily wench, I thought. "You used Sandra only once," pouted the girl. "It is not fair." She looked up at me. "Sandra is better than Midice," she said. "Midice," I said, "is very good." "Sandra is better," wheedled the girl. "Try Sandra and see." "Perhaps," I said. I gave her head a rough shake and permitted her to remain kneeling at the arm of my chair. I saw other slave girls, serving at the tables, cast looks of hatred and jealousy on her. Like a satisfied cat, she knelt beside my chair. "And," said Telima, "both of you were once enslaved, and that, in itself, dissolves the companionship. Slaves cannot stand in companionship." I looked at her angrily. "You have not forgotten the delta of the Vosk?" she asked. Telima was not pleasing in her jealousy. ; the wench, Leah, whom I had won at archery, had tried to resist the Forkbeard; he had her beaten and thrown back to his furs; soon she, too, in her turn, was moaning with pleasure; helplessly; she was responding beautifully to him; by morning both girls, on and about him, fighting one another, jealous of one another, were begging for his touch; at dawn he had ordered one of his men, that he might get some sleep, to chain them prone head to foot, the right ankle of each chained to the projecting ring on the collar of the other; Resentments, jealousies, petty feuds, enmities, are common among female slaves. Particularly is there jealousy and hatred for the most beautiful slaves, or for the highest slaves. Such a girl, on her way to discipline, is a delight to those who hate and envy her, and who would be only too pleased to take this opportunity to jeer and abuse her, sometimes cruelly and physically. He was in command, completely. At his slightest word I would leap to serve him. How furious, how jealous, would the boys have been had they seen how perfectly the haughty, beautiful girl they could not even interest or impress now responded swiftly, eagerly, even to the snapping of fingers of another, of a true man. Never had I seen human beings kiss like that. It seemed a deeply sensuous complementarity that shook me to the core. It was the kiss of lovers, but more than the kiss of lovers. It was the kiss of a lover who is owned and of one who owns his lover. Then he laughed, and thrust her to one side. Then all turned to regard me. How I wished that he had held me and kissed me as he did her. How jealous I was. Then, suddenly, realizing the eyes of all upon me, I was frightened. "Yes, Mistress," said the girl. She trembled. The chain shook on her wrist. I was pleased. Too, if she feared me, perhaps I could, for a time, frighten her away from my master. She was a lovely female, Marla, and I had little doubt she would be incredibly delicious in the arms of a man. I suppose that I was jealous of her. How angry I was at Marla, and how jealous of her. She was a saucy slave. Had I so spoken, so freshly and without permission, I might have been whipped. ; I smiled to myself; I think he had been jealous; and I think he was using Marla, certainly a delightful diversion, to try and force me from his mind. "No, Master," I said. Suddenly I resented and hated those other girls from the bottom of my heart. How angry and jealous I was! Now they looked upon me with the fury of the free woman for the hot, desirable female slave. Were they jealous? Did they resent the interest of men? Did they wish that it was they upon the block? "She wants your hands on her!" said Arlene. "Are you jealous?" I asked. "You are my master, not hers," she said. For example, when a former free woman, now enslaved, steals her first pastry from another girl, this is often smiled upon, and punished, if at all, quite lightly. The master is not displeased. It is taken as evidence that the girl is now learning to be a slave. Slaves do that sort of thing. The petty jealousies and resentments that build up among girls make them easier to control. "I do not know," she smiled. "Perhaps it is because I am not so beautiful and desirable. Perhaps it is because men are so fond of them. Perhaps I am jealous of their beauty and desirability, and am envious because they, and not I, are found so attractive by men." I took two pair of slave bracelets from the loot of the taluna camp. Girls such as talunas keep such things about in case slave girls should fall into their hands. They are extremely cruel to slave girls, whom they regard as having betrayed their sex by surrendering as slaves to men. Actually, of course, it seems likely that their hatred of slave girls, which tends to be unreasoning and vicious, is due less to lofty sentiments than to their own intense jealousy of the joy and fulfillment of their imbonded sisters. The joyful slave girl, obedient to her master's wishes, is an affront and, more frighteningly, an unanswerable and dreadful threat to their most cherished illusions. Perhaps they wish to be themselves slaves. I heard a stirring behind me, of the other male slaves, in their silks and ribbons. They had not been pleased that the mistress had commended me. They were jealous of such things, and of their handsomeness. She did not, after all, wish to writhe beneath their whips, the lashed object of the fury and contempt of free women, jealous perhaps of the helplessness of the slave girl before men, her beauty and her collar. "Surely he could not be jealous of me," I said. "He is a free person, and I am only a collared slave." "Why did you lie?" I asked. "I - I was jealous of her," she said "I wanted you to think she was no longer on the estates." "He is really a good fellow," I said. "Besides," I added, "look at the slave girl." We looked after her, the scantily clad, auburn-haired beauty heeling her master. "Who would not be jealous of such a slave?" I asked. The hatred of the free woman on Gor for the female slave is an interesting phenomenon. There are probably many reasons for this. Among them, however, would seem to be a jealousy of the female slave's desirability and beauty, a resentment of the interest of free men in imbonded women, and an envy of the slave girl's psychological and biological fulfillments, and emotional freedom and joy. I watched Winyela dance. It was easy to see how free women could be almost insanely jealous of slaves, and how they could hate them so, so inordinately and deeply. Too, it was little wonder that slaves, helpless in their collars, so feared and dreaded free women. The free woman, in a sense, is paradoxical. She professes to despise the slave girl; she professes to loathe her and hold her in contempt; but, too, obviously, she is almost insanely jealous of her. Too, sometimes men who desire to own slaves but are themselves too weak to do so, or, because of rigidities or cripplings, are psychologically incapable of doing so, will, out of envy, jealousy and spite, fight to free them, in order to deny others the pleasures which they, because of their handicaps and inhibitions, cannot grant to themselves. "It seems, then," I said, "that you hated them because you were jealous of them, that, in reality, you envied them." "Yes," she said, "I was jealous of their beauty and desirability. I envied them their happiness." She trembled, being appraised. I felt sudden anger, and jealousy. He had not looked at me like that! I felt ashamed of my hostility, my jealousy. But Susan's beauty, I realized, then, was not a matter merely of features and figure, exquisite though these might be. Her beauty had to do more intimately and basically I thought, somehow, with matters which were more psychological and emotional; it had to do, somehow, in its softness and femininity, with the slavery of her. As always, as far as I knew, I had tried to be such to him that he would find me pleasing. Perhaps he was angry with me because of the welt on my face, but that was not my fault. Last night I had been struck by Luta. If he wanted to punish someone he should have punished her. She was very jealous of Emily and myself, who seemed clearly to be Borkon's favorites. Last night, after supper, my slave needs much upon me, I had begged to juice for Borkon. He had permitted this in his quarters. When I had been returned to the dormitory and the door had been locked behind me, she had been up and waiting. My face was still sore. It was not my fault that she did not find herself being put to Borkon's pleasure. "I am almost jealous of you, Tiffany," said Emily, "how you look, how you move, how you carry yourself, how exciting and beautiful you have become, how owned, how slave-like!" She was obviously in some sort of competitive relationship with the male. There was a tautness, a tension, between them. She seemed jealous of him and his power. She was very defensive about her status in his eyes. No longer now do they aspire to the privileges and prerogatives of the free woman; let her continue to live in her house of inhibition and convention; let her have her frigidities, jealousies and shams; they have found something a thousand times more precious, their meaning, their significance, their happiness, their joy, their fulfillment, their collars. She was exactly the sort of female which, in her helplessness and collar, in her vulnerability and brief tunic, tends to inspire jealous hatred, sometimes bordering almost on madness, in free women, particularly homely and sexually frustrated ones. "Are you truly so jealous of me?" asked the woman. "No, no!" said the daughter, almost crying out, wildly. Boabissia drew back the whip. How she hated the female slave. It is sometimes hard to understand the hatred of the free female for her imbonded sister. It has to do, I suppose, with the venomous jealousy of a woman who has taken an unhappy path, a road commended to her by many but one which she has discovered leads only to her ultimate frustration, misery and lack of fulfillment. No woman is truly happy until she occupies her place in the order of nature. How Boabissia hated Feiqa! Did she really think it was wrong, or improper, for Feiqa to give her master such incredible pleasure? I did not think so. Feiqa, after all, was a slave. It was one of her purposes. I think it was rather that she was intensely jealous of Feiqa, that she keenly resented that she, the proud Boabissia, being free, was not subject to the same imperious enforcements. I decided that I, as a simple soldier, an unpretentious fellow devoted to the profession of arms, had best reserve judgment on such things as poets and poetry. It was dangerous, weighty stuff. I felt a sudden twinge of jealousy for Hurtha. He was both a warrior and a poet. "He is jealous," said Boabissia to the fellow. "He is almost beside himself with envy. He only wants to see me denied my fortune, deprived of my rightful deserts." "Your position, I take it," he said, "is motivated by your hatred, jealousy and envy of men?" Indeed, as she wheedled with the guards, and would sometimes even receive a candy, many of us became quite jealous of her. Perhaps, on some level, in some way, she was jealous of us and wanted to be like us, a woman whom men might conceivably find of interest. Clarissa had been very popular with the guards. We were all, or those of us who had been with her in the former house, somewhat jealous, I suppose, of her attractiveness to them. "Oh," I said. Immediately I felt a wave of jealousy for those other girls. "I do not blame Hendow for being jealous," he said. "A man might be driven to distraction by a face and curves like yours." "Too, I was jealous of Doreen. I thought you cared for her!" "Do you want anything else?" asked Lady Temione, irritatedly. I saw that she was terribly jealous of the attention which men might bestow upon the slave, but how could that be, for she was, by her own account, infinitely superior to the slave, and she was free? Too, she was, according to her own account, not interested in such things. Perhaps some were angry that I had not had my hair cut for catapult cordage. Perhaps they were jealous of my beautiful hair! But I was a free woman! She had even watched him, later in the Paga Room, with fascination and horror, and, I think, with jealous envy, use a slave, skillfully, lengthily, exultantly and with authority. "I watched you as he handled the slave. I could see your jealousy. I could smell your desire." Such a woman would have hated her, and been consumed with jealousy, resenting her specialness and preciousness, the particular place she held in the camp, the regard in which she was held by the men. Rence women, on the whole, tend to be ill-tempered, frustrated and jealous of men. Many of them seem to feel that it is demeaning to them to be women. Free women, also, I have heard, object to such camps within the walls, supposedly because of the smells. I frankly doubt that this is the real reason. I think it is rather that they hate female slaves, and are almost insanely jealous of them. Although Marcus was harsh with his slave, pretending even to a casual and brutal disdain for her, he was also, it might be mentioned, extremely possessive where she was concerned. Indeed, he was almost insanely jealous of her. She was not the sort of girl, for example, whom he, as a host, even at the cost of a certain rudeness and inhospitality, would be likely to hand over for the nightly comfort of a guest. I have also suggested that this attitude of the free female toward the slave seems to be motivated, paradoxically enough, by envy and jealousy. In any event, slave girls fear free women greatly, as they, being mere slaves, are much at their mercy. This is, I believe, and example, though a rather extreme one, of a not unprecedented sort of psychological reaction, the attempt, by disparagement or action, motivated by envy, jealousy, resentment, or such, to keep from others pleasures which one oneself is unable, or unwilling, to enjoy. "I thought I heard you gasp when Milo first appeared on the stage," said Marcus. "He is very handsome in his costume, Master," she said. "Undoubtedly," said Marcus. "Surely master is not jealous?" inquired Phoebe, delightedly. "No," he snarled. "She is very pretty," said Marcus. "More so than I?" asked Phoebe. "Is the slave jealous?" inquired Marcus, teasingly. "Please, Master," begged Phoebe. "Are you jealous?" he said. "Yes, Master!" said Phoebe, defiantly. "You do not sound humble," he said. "Forgive me, Master," she said, quickly, frightened. Who is jealous?" he inquired. "Phoebe is jealous," she whispered. To be sure, it would be remiss not to remark also that, as one would expect, some of the pettiest of jealousies, the most absurd of resentments, the vilest of acrimonies and the most inveterate of hatreds can obtain among these beautiful, vain, vital creatures, who are, after all, only females. "I think Milo is an excellent actor," I said. "You see?" asked the fellow of Marcus. "Yes," said Marcus. "Did you see him in the pageant about Lurius of Jad?" I asked. "Yes," he said. "It was on the basis of that performance that my opinion was formed." "I see," I said. How ugly, I thought, professional jealousy can be. Perhaps this seemed fitting to Appanius, that the new slave, prior to her public imbonding, should be so served. Perhaps he found it amusing. Or perhaps he was jealous of his slave, and wished to reserve his caresses for himself. Or it could have been all three. One did not know. "You were jealous of a possible rival," I said. "Perhaps," she said. "You would have preferred to be the only female in Milo's net?" "Yes!" she said. "She is telling you that Phoebe is jealous of her," I said. "Why did she show herself to me?" asked Lavinia. "I suppose," I said, "because she was jealous of you, and wished, in a sense, to awe you with her own beauty." "I thought so," said Lavinia. "What a vain creature!" "She is a female," I said. "Thus," continued the retainer, softly, suavely, "one need not disturb him while he is reading his lines, as he undoubtedly is, and, more importantly, he will never know of our coming and going. Thus, he will never suspect that you might have been jealous, or ever suspected him of any unwonted treachery." I now had some understanding of the jealousy of the retainers for the slave. The slave had doubtless enjoyed too much power in the house, too much favor with the master. They were eager to bring him down. "Do not be jealous of Milo, if he is more handsome than you," said Lavinia. "Very well," I said, "- if he is." "Excellent," she said. "If he is more handsome than you, then you will not be jealous of him, and if he is not more handsome than you, then, as there would be no need, you will not be jealous of him." Many of them seemed jealous of me, and resented me, for no reason I understood, but such things are natural, I gather, in such a place. Let the other women be jealous of me! I had certainly encountered no little evidence of that sort of thing in my training. I did not care. Let them dislike me! I did not care! How each of us would strive to be first, the favorite! How we would fight for his attention, for his touch, for the opportunity to be chained at the foot of his couch! How jealous, how resentful, we might come to be of one another! But I had felt, too, a sudden uncontrollable wave of hatred and jealousy for her, she being permitted to follow him as she did. I was jealous that the free woman was along with the guard, but I had no fear that he would bother her. She was blond. I saw this with some contempt, and perhaps a bit of jealousy. This may have been something lingering from my old world, for, on this world, brunettes seem to be favored, it being claimed, truly or not, that they are much more easily aroused, and much more helpless, and passionate, in the furs. But, to be sure, blond hair, genuinely blond hair, is rare on this world, except for certain areas, as it is on my old world. I saw that she was very angry with me. Surely she must blame me for her humiliation. Too, I suspected she might, for some reason, be jealous of me. Was it my fault if I might be more beautiful or desirable than she? Had not that female, Dorna, a high slave, clearly exhibited jealousy of me? Perhaps I would be first girl in the slave quarters. I might receive further training. I might be displayed with pride to a master's acquaintances, or perhaps, as a state slave, to foreign diplomats or merchants. But in her eyes there was not the least reproach. I was grateful for this, for resentment, pettiness, jealousy, and competition are common among slaves. In a sense, are we not all rivals for the favor of masters? On such a woman the free woman may to her heart's content indulge her vanity, her arrogance, and her pettiness, and may inflict on her her animosity, and, indeed, her hatred, and her frustration, ventilating these things abundantly and richly, and with impunity, upon the unfortunate, innocent one who is taken as standing proxy for her kind, that kind of which the free woman is so resentful and jealous, a kind of much greater interest and attractiveness to men, the female slave. We do not want an equal; that is not enough for us; we want more than that; we want a master. We want him to be strong, ambitious, aggressive, possessive, jealous, lustful, dangerous, dominant. We want him to guard us, and protect us, and own us, with masculine ferocity, to see us as his rightful properties. We want to feel ourselves as though we were nothing before his wrath and power. We want to feel that it is the most important thing in the world for us that we please him. We want him to be jealous of us, and fiercely possessive of us; He desires us; he lusts for us; and we are his; and so he is jealous of us and inordinately possessive of us, his relished goods, his coveted prizes, his properties, his slaves; Earlier, in the garden, she had seemed almost insanely jealous of his attentions to me. "Perhaps master is jealous, perhaps he is angry that I might be found pleasing by others." "Beware," he said. But, as Tutina perhaps had not realized, she was thereby rapidly improving her charge's Gorean. The young charge was jealous of Tutina, of her power, her beauty, and her standing closer to the master. The young charge would have preferred to be her master's only slave, lying contentedly, curled, licking, at his feet. It pleased her that he was angry. Could he be jealous of another man's interest in her? Surely she hoped so. On the other hand, as an astute work-master, well accustomed to dealing with female slaves, he may have assigned the group as he did in order to reduce jealousy, diminish resentments, and such. The slave is not a wife, but a property, and, accordingly, as she is not an autonomous, independent contractee but a valued possession, she commonly finds herself an object of jealous regard on the part of the master. She wore a light, yellow, brief tunic, with a disrobing loop at the left shoulder, as most masters are right-handed. Ellen thought that she, stripped on a slave block, would doubtless bring a high price. Ellen felt a surge of jealousy. And the camp slaves have treated me with cruelty. At least it seems so to me. Could they resent me, perhaps for my beauty? Might they be jealous of me? "Perhaps Master is unduly possessive," she speculated. "Perhaps he is jealous. Perhaps Master now regrets having sent his slave to please Cosians. Perhaps she did well. Perhaps she did very well. She is, after all, a slave. Perhaps Master now thinks that he may have made a mistake in that matter. Perhaps Master now wishes that it had been he himself who had received such pleasures. Perhaps Master now wishes to keep his slave to himself." And what, thought Ellen, of all this talk of humiliation, shame, degradation, and such. I suspect such things are usually more in the mind of free women than in the mind of the slave. Certainly free women often, in their envy and jealousy, do their best to discomfit a slave, to shame and humiliate her, to treat her as a worthless, degraded object, and so on. But men prefer us. We are the women they want. We are the women they buy. "Now bring forward our jealous young master," said the officer. "Take him to the wagon wheel. Tie him there, his hands behind his back. Where he may see." "No," said Selius Arconious, bound at the wheel. "He may reside in Ar, but he is not of Ar. He has no Home Stone." Surely he hates Mirus, thought Ellen. I think he is jealous of him. Can that be because of me? Could he be jealous because of a mere slave? What are his feelings toward me? He hates me! And I hate him! I must hate him! But he cannot be jealous. How could one be jealous of me? I am a mere slave! For example, it is not unknown for a Gorean man to have more than one slave, that they may desperately compete with one another, each striving zealously to please him more than the other, that she may become his favorite. To be sure, this is a situation commonly productive of misery, jealously, and hatred amongst the slaves. Which female wishes to found inferior to another? The anguish, the tumult, the distress, the rage, the conflict, the jealousy, in the container, as disturbing and irritating as it might be to the male, would be largely, doubtless calculatedly, consequent upon the interactions of the two females. Interestingly, the slave collar, which might be thought a badge of shame, is often regarded, rather, by its wearer, and certainly by men, to the jealousy, hatred, and envy of free women, as an indisputable emblem of female desirability, a token or insignia of appeal and interest, of attractiveness and allure. It is not unusual when one attractive slave encounters another attractive slave in the vicinity of her master that certain frictions may occur. Both know, so to speak, that they are meaningless, and no more than luscious toys for men, toys which, to their misery, and fear, may easily be discarded or replaced, and, accordingly, they tend to be acutely jealous of the attentions of their masters. I glanced to the two women of the "strange men" on the lacquered platform. They were looking upon Cecily, but I saw no sign of envy, hostility, or jealously. This was quite different from the way in which a Gorean free woman would look upon a slave girl. A free woman might, of course, look upon the former Miss Wentworth and, in virtue of the brevity of a tunic, perhaps, or a brand, or a collar, easily see her as slave, but they might sense, too, to their jealous fury, that something less visible and far more profound was involved, that she now, supplicatingly and irremediably, belonged to men. And who other than jealous, envious free women does not relish the sight of lovely slaves? Better, surely, for a woman to belong to a man than a woman. They see us in terms of desire and pleasure, in terms of love, service, and passion, not in terms of contempt, jealously, and reproach. When a man sees a woman in chains he is likely to exult in her beauty and revel in the mastery; considering how pleasant it would be to own her; when a woman sees a woman in chains, as on a selling shelf, she is likely to feel disgust, anger, hatred, indignation, and rage, and, oddly, envy and jealously. I recalled her former terror that this might be done to her. I gathered it was very unpleasant for a lovely slave, a slave such as she, well-curved and delicious, a man-pleasing slave, the sort that men wish to buy, the sort that men wish to own, the sort that men find attractive, and care for, an exquisite, feminine slave, to find herself at the mercy of the ill-tempered, hating, envious, jealous, unhappy, gross brutes likely to be found in charge of a keeping area. To the male, of course, the female slave is of particular interest. Thusly, in the case of the female slave, the natural possessiveness, the easily aroused suspicion and jealousy, of an owner is particularly engaged. It is one thing, for example, to welcome attention bestowed on a prize kaiila and even another's envy of one's possession of so splendid an animal, and quite another to suspect that the other may have designs upon the beast. "You sound like a Kasra girl," I said, "a jealous one." What could she, a slave, an animal, possibly have, or offer, that might begin to compete with the accorded favor of a free woman, standing on her dignity, and jealous of her rights? This sort of information seems somehow to travel rapidly about perhaps as a result of a master's seemingly casual or inadvertent remark, overheard by some unpleasant urchin, a snide observation by another slave, one informed, and perhaps jealous of the beauty of the new slave, perhaps as the result of the ridicule of some inquisitive free woman who has taken it upon herself to inquire into such matters, a ridicule perhaps administered to the strokes of a switch, such things. I did not inquire what purposes she might have in mind. The services and use of a slave, of course, may be bestowed as the master or mistress might wish. One advantage of a private male master is that they are commonly rather proprietary where their slaves are concerned, even jealous. The Lady Bina of course, was not a male master, let alone a jealous, possessive one, and I was afraid she might be generous, perhaps excessively so, in such matters. "You are perceptive, Lady Bina," said Desmond, admiringly. I was suddenly jealous of the Lady Bina. "I thought it was easy for a man to understand a woman who was in his collar," I said. "You are not in my collar," he said. I looked up at him, tears in my eyes. "Am I not?" I said. "You are jealous of Mina?" he said. "I do not think she would believe the informant," I said, "especially if it were the prisoner, Lord Grendel, whom she suspects would wish for personal reasons, for selfish reasons, to deny her such an exaltation, such station, and grandeur. She might well suppose him jealous of such fortune, and that he would prefer to keep things as they were before, to keep her in modest circumstances, and to keep her muchly dependent upon him." "Perhaps Chloe will earn another sweet," I said. "Perhaps," he said. "Are you jealous?" "No," I said. "Of course," he said. "Harfax is noted for the beauty of its slaves." "I am jealous," I said. Was she jealous of us, even though she had the glory of freedom on her and we were no more than docile, servile, collared beasts? The first girl stands in the place of the master. It is her task to keep order amongst the other slaves, and she answers only to the master. I would suppose that most "first girls" are judicious and fair but some, doubtless, abuse their authority, have their favorites, distribute ornaments, cosmetics, silks, candies, pastries, delicacies, and such selectively, and make life miserable in a variety of ways for others, less favored, with respect to work assignments, discipline, and such, which matters are largely in her hands. It is not well for a first girl to take a dislike to one. Such dislikes may be diversely motivated, but a common one is jealousy. "There is little to tell of a slave," I said, "other than that she is a slave." "Of course," she said. "Are you jealous?" I said. "Certainly not!" she said. "I thought," I said, "there was much uneasiness between you and Tajima that there was much rivalry between you, much envy, and jealousy, and competition for priority of station." Add in now in addition to Lord Akio's presumed uncontested ascent to the shogunate, his likely jealousy, envy, and hatred of Lord Yamada, and his long-thwarted ambition to ascend to the dais of the shogun, his possible interest in the shogun's daughter, now a vulnerable available slave. "Keep thrusting, barbarian," snapped the first girl. "Yes, Mistress!" I exclaimed. I did not wish to be again switched. She had called me a barbarian! How dared she? But then I thought of the world from which I had come. Was it not, in its way, a barbarian world, stupid, inconsistent, crowded, polluted, thoughtless, greedy, hate-filled, afflicted with envies, resentments, and jealousies, dismal, pathological? I recalled that Paula had been marketed from the central block. I was not, however, in the least bit, jealous of her in this respect. I had meant no harm. Surely he must understand that! Surely the matter was trivial. I had only been angry and jealous. I had not expected that matters would turn out as they had. Where I had often sensed that others were critical of me, or jealous of me, or did not like me, Paula was always steadfast in her respect and affection. I suppose I was jealous of Paula. "The matter," I wept, "had nothing to do with Master Drusus. It had to do with my jealousy of Paula. I wanted to prove that I could do what she could do, that I could interest he whom she had interested. It was to be my vengeance on Paula for her being so preferred to me, my vengeance on her for having sold for a golden tarsk, for having been sold at the Curulean, from the central block!" "Of course," he said. "I had not known until then what a vain, petty, worthless slut you were. Paula is your friend. She feels for you, is concerned for you. Why then should you wish to outdo her, to demean and hurt her, and, in a sense, steal from her? Drusus Andronicus may be fond of her, and she may care for him, and you, supposedly her friend, to assuage your jealously, to soothe your wounded vanity, would gratuitously intrude yourself between them? What if Drusus Andronicus had succumbed to your fraudulent overtures? What then of Paula, who cares for you, of Paula, your friend?" "No," I said. "Many sought my company, and flattered me. But I do not know what they felt, or said, behind my back. I think they did not really like me. One senses such things." "Perhaps," said he, "they were jealous, of your looks, your taste, your charm, your popularity?" Then I recalled the wrong I had done to Paula, how I had attempted to steal the affections of Drusus Andronicus, not because I wanted him, but because, in my vanity, I had been jealous of her. I had been punished for that. I threw myself to Paula's feet, weeping, my head down. "Forgive me, Paula," I wept. "I betrayed our friendship! I was vain, foolish, jealous! You sold for more than I. You were found of much greater interest than I, by many masters! I wanted to prove myself your equal, indeed, your superior! If you could interest a master such as Master Drusus, could I not do so, as well? I sought to interest him, as what I was, as you, a slave! I would have been pleased to turn him from you! I tried to do so! I failed! I was rightfully scorned and bound. I was punished. Forgive me, dear Paula. Please, please, forgive me!" I personally suspect that the motivations of the Gorean free women who object to our importings as cargo and merchandise, as domestic animals, are not so much a matter of fittingness or propriety as of personal animosity, even jealousy. Could the free women be actually jealous of slaves, such meaningless, worthless beasts? "The Admiral," I said, "is disgruntled. He longs for reinstatement in Cos. He deems himself wrongfully denied the High Admiralty of Cos, the post of High Admiral of the Cosian naval forces. Here he is only the commander of the Fleet of the Farther Islands, of only some twenty heavy vessels, and a miscellany of minor vessels. He objects to flattery, favoritism, bribery, and corruption, these rampant, it seems, at the court of Cos in Jad. He deems his experience, qualifications, and skills overlooked. He deems himself removed from Cos by jealous sycophants, feeble save in intrigue, by mediocre, untested opponents, enemies who have the ear of Lurius of Jad, Ubar of Cos. He deems himself, in effect, sentenced to an unwarranted exile." "There is bad blood, jealousy, between Archelaos and Nicomachos," said Glaukos. "Some, I fear," I said, "have so construed the noble Talena of Ar." I recalled Talena, so impatient, so quick to order the whipping of slaves, so jealous of the beauty of other women, so ready to profit from the spoils of a defeated, prostrate Ar, Talena who had mocked me when I had been crippled, and chairbound, unable to rise to my feet, from the slash of a poisoned sword in Torvaldsland. I did not think that Talena cared for Iris. Could she be jealous of her? I knew this was not impossible for free women often resented and envied kajirae, but was not Talena herself, in full legality, kajira herself?
I wondered upon occasion why Cabot did not speak to me more openly on certain matters, why he so jealously guarded the mystery of those months in which he had been absent from the college. I now know why he did not speak sooner. He feared I would have thought him mad. The Priest-Kings often practice such small economies, jealously conserving the inanimate resources of the Nest. The doll which she had so loved, which she had had from her mother, which she had so jealously protected in her compartment that she had attacked me with the slave goad at the kill point, lay on the tiles before her, torn asunder, destroyed. Our bodies, superbly trained, even those of Inge and Ute, now became unmistakably those of slave girls. We had had into our bodies mysteries of movements of which even we, for the most part, were no longer aware, subtle signals of appetite, of passion and of obedience to a masculine touch, movements which excited the fierce jealousy, the hatred, of free women, particularly ignorant free women, who feared, and perhaps rightly, that their men might leave them for the purchase or capture of such a prize. Such alliances, portions of their planning, lifted them to strata where their talents and energies might have full play, strata otherwise closed to them by dominant, controlling groups and families, jealous of and protective of their own interests. The caste of thieves was important in Port Kar, and even honored. It represented a skill which in the city was held in high repute. Indeed, so jealous of their prerogatives were the caste of thieves that they often hunted thieves who did not belong to the caste, and slew them, throwing their bodies to the urts in the canals. They protected, jealously, their own territories from amateur competition. I could see that this compliment much pleased the Forkbeard, who, a vain fellow, was jealous of his reputation. Kurii, I suspected, were as little united as men, for they, too, are jealous, proud, territorial, beasts. ; further, since each man, in his heart, desires a beautiful woman as a slave, he is, when he owns one, at least in this respect, contented, satisfied and pleased; a contented, pleased, satisfied man is a happy man, and a happy man is a kind man, and a generous man; he is jealous only of his prerogatives over the slave; "You can well understand my dilemma," he said. "Seeing you I wanted you. You were one of those women who is so feminine and attractive that a man finds it difficult to think of you in terms other than jealous ownership. I wanted to own you. I wanted you at my feet naked, in my collar. Yet you were intended to be my companion. How could one relate to a girl as feminine and beautiful as you, I ask you, other than as a master to a slave?" "Perhaps not," I said. "Yet if one of them should so much as question the renunciatory and negativistic values with which his brain has been imprinted he will be immediately assailed by the marshaled forces of an establishment jealously presiding over the dissolution of its own culture. Is it so difficult to detect the failure of public philosophies? Are unhappiness, frustration, misery, scarcity, pollution, disease and crime of no interest to those in power? I fear the reflex spasm. 'But we were not to blame,' they will say, as they wade in poisoned ashes." "With this letter," I said, indicating the document, "you may return when you wish. I would advise you, however, should the ruling, as I would expect, be in your favor, to consider the adoption of an honest occupation. If the magistrates do not apprehend you you might, in Port Kar, run afoul of the caste of thieves. They are sometimes jealous of their prerogatives." Jealousies and strifes, rivalries, even armed conflicts, tend often to separate Gorean cities. There was resentment of Kliomenes, and jealousy, and fear, I suspected, in the holding. "One thing puzzles me in this," I said, after a time, to Cuwignaka. "Why would a tarn, if it was a tarn, have attacked a rider in flight. That is extremely unusual." "It is explained in the legend of Wakanglisapa," said Cuwignaka. "Tell me," I said. "It is said that Wakanglisapa prizes his feathers and is jealous of them, for they contain powerful medicine." Many men had probably wondered what I looked like, naked. I had always been rather jealous, rather private, about my body, though. I had never had a master who might simply order me to strip. Certain other members of the staff will not know that you are free. I shall take it upon myself to protect you from them. The pose of a jealous captor should suffice. For example, the second knowledge, while required of the higher castes and not of the lower castes, is not prohibited to the lower castes. It is not a body of secret or jealously guarded truths, for example. Gorean libraries, like the tables of Kaissa tournaments, tend to be open to men of all castes. Given the superb acoustics of many of these theaters, however, in which a coin dropped on the stage is clearly audible in the upper tiers, I feel the practice is more closely connected with tradition, or jealousy, than acoustics. Once more I saw it rise up among bodies. I heard men weep, and continue to strike at it. How it prided itself on its refinements, on its sense of gentility. How vain it had been! How irritated I had even been with it, with its confounded supercilious arrogance. How jealous it was of being a gentleman. The thief's scar in Port Kar is a tiny, three-pronged brand, burned into the face over the right cheekbone. It marks the members of the Caste of Thieves in Port Kar. That is the only city in which, as far as I know, there is a recognized caste for thieves. They tend to be quite proud of their calling, it being handed down often from father to son. There are various perquisites connected with membership in this caste, among them, if one is a professional thief, protection from being hunted down and killed by caste members, who tend to be quite jealous of their various territories and prerogatives. Whereas in the cities, where the rights of citizenship are clearest, where the sways of custom and tradition tend to be jealously guarded, where the influence of Home Stones is likely to be most keenly felt, free labor has generally held its own, the same cannot be said for all rural areas of Gor, particularly areas which fall outside the obvious jurisdiction or sphere of influence of nearby cities. "Oh?" I said. I had become, incidentally, a master actor while with the troupe of Boots Tarsk-Bit. To be sure, he had never permitted me upon the stage, and, after observing my audition, so to speak, had utilized me primarily for other tasks, such as, as I have mentioned, assembling the stage and freeing the wheels of mired wagons. He was perhaps jealous of his own stardom with the troupe. The Cosians, as many conquerors, made a point of enlisting class jealousies in their cause, utilizing them to secure their ends, for example, the replacement of a given aristocracy, or elite, with one of their own, preferably in as covert a fashion as is possible. "There was no glory here," he said. "We did not win this victory in storm and fire, surmounting walls, breaching gates, winning Ar street by street, house by house. It was not we who defeated Ar. It was her putative own who betrayed her, in jealousy and intrigue, in ambition and greed. Ideas and lies defeated Ar. Men, if they were not crippled, were ambitious, jealous and possessive. She knew that her sex, by nature, belonged to them. "Commonality of Home Stone extends beyond concepts with which you are familiar, such as shared citizenship, for example. It is more like brotherhood, but not so much in the attenuated, cheap, abstract sense in which those of Earth commonly speak glibly, so loosely, of brotherhood. It is more analogous to brotherhood in the sense of jealously guarded membership in a proud, ancient family, one that has endured through centuries, a family bound together by fidelity, honor, history and tradition." Ellen did not want to be caught with an empty pitcher and the vat empty, perhaps for Ehn, even an Ahn, until its supply might be replenished. She could wait near the vat on the other hand, until it was once more full. No one could be angry about that. It was not as though someone had sent her for wine and she had been dilatory in returning. And, of course, she had no access to the other vats in the camp, for they were guarded jealously by their own vat masters, with their own assigned slaves. Then Ellen's thoughts drifted to Earth, tragic Earth, and its negativities, and eccentricities. Compared to Earth the deserts in which the free women of Gor might roam seemed fertile meadows indeed. Compared with the worst of Gor the Earth seemed far worse, a psychosexual, psychobiological wasteland, withered as by a moral plague, the victim of an ideological tragedy. Pity the putatively free women of Earth, she thought, in their deserts, cluttered with social artifacts largely constructed by the subglandular, pathological, effete, feeble and impotent, trying desperately, unhappily, to conform to orthodoxies imposed upon them, orthodoxies invented in effect by witch doctors and shamans to exalt the weak and cripple the strong, invented by petty, resentful, jealous pygmies whose ambition it is to make themselves herdsmen to a reduced, tamed, human race, who will exalt the whole at the expense of the part, who will deny the individual in the name of the mass, in order that they themselves will be the only part that matters, and that they, the masters of the mass, will be the only individuals to truly exist. It is sad, one supposes, to see one's species domesticated, to see this done to our race, and seemingly to be done with its consent, too, a race which might otherwise have become children of the stars. But who knows, thought Ellen, perhaps one day they will see where they are going, and they will cry out "Stop!" and remember the stars. Earth primates, for they seem, for the most part, to be easily interpreted amongst diverse linguistic and cultural groups, for example, expressions of contentment, of jealousy, of pride, of pleasure, of satisfaction, of suspicion, of anger, and so on. Thassa, it seemed, might be jealous of her secrets. There are always jealousies, resentments, hatreds, and factions in cities, and the clever will exploit them to his own advantage. It is rumored that there were gigantic dragons of the sea, prodigious monsters, lurking beyond the farther islands, aquatic prodigies guarding the end of the world, set there by Priest-Kings, as one might post guard sleen about the perimeter of a camp, but this thing, in the glimpse we had had, was no water-shedding, surfacing monster, toothed and scaled, nothing alive, as least we commonly thought of life, nothing curious, jealous, and predatory. As long as the ship was there I knew that our men would see it as a symbol of the far world they knew, and remembered, would see it longingly, would see it jealously, would see it as their only likely passage home. A casteless society, an open society, in which elevation, wealth, and success is supposed to depend, or does depend, on the outcome of merit and free competition will obviously generate an enormous amount of frustration, jealousy, envy, and hostility. In such a society most will fail to fulfill their ambitions and must almost inevitably fall short of achieving at least the greatest rewards and highest honors which such a society has to bestow. Given the limited numbers of Kurii on Gor at this time, they will begin by forging alliances with dissident elements in given cities, the resentful, envious, and jealous, those of thwarted ambition, and such, for there are always such, to bring them to power in their own cities, and then it will be these cities against other cities, the Kurii surreptitiously abetting their allies, as before, to the extent possible, with forbidden means. I had been aware, for some time, of the jealousy, envy, and resentment felt by many lesser Kurii for those placed above them, for whatever reason it might be intelligence, energy, vision, some conception of merit, success in some form of competition, blood connections, the machinations of politics, the accidents of time or place, or simple fortune. How brave, and foolish, Desmond of Harfax had been! Did he think that so mighty a foe, so jealously guarded, might be so easily disposed of? How utterly different is the exalted, noble, proud free woman, suspicious and demanding, bargaining and calculating, insisting on her hundred rights, jealous of a thousand prerogatives! Who was it who, so ill-constituted and envious, jealous of health and joy, so exploited the credulity of the innocent, honest, and trusting? The animus borne to the slave by the typical free woman is doubtless motivated primarily by the fact that men commonly prefer the lovely, lightly clad slave, submitted and needful, docile, obedient, and passionate, hoping to please, to the proud, exalted free woman jealous of her thousand prerogatives and determined to exploit each of them in her favor. The free woman is not concerned to please, but to be pleased. They were nothing, or had been made so. Those I was familiar with, those with whom I commonly associated, were refined, effete, tentative, weak, apologetic, reluctant, well-trained, correct, embarrassed by their sex, taught to suspect it, if not despise it, so concerned they were to conform to the required stereotypes of the lubricated, well-tooled, socially acceptable interchangeable part, to whom sex and nature were irrelevant, even inimical, as they might threaten the functioning of the great, shiny beast, the immense machine, sharp-eyed and vigilant, like a vast, jealous, carefully constructed, watchful metal cat. Indeed, some were merchants, and Goreans, generally, are careful with their coins, often jealously, extremely so. It might be noted, in passing, that the black caste is jealous of what it regards as its prerogatives. It is my impression that many Gorean masters, despite professions to the contrary, tend to be covetous, possessive, and jealous where their slaves are concerned. On Gor one does not pretend such differences do not exist or are not important. Indeed, rank, distance, and hierarchy stabilize the society. Is the alternative not social anarchy, envy, jealousy, denial, uncertainty, confusion, competition, dishonesty, scrambling about, frustrated ambition, disappointment, fury, and chaos? I had heard that Pa-Kur had once led a coalition of forces against Ar, winnowed from cities subservient to, and jealous of, Ar. We were on Chios, the closest of the three 'Farther Islands', Chios, Thera, and Daphna, those islands beyond Tyros and Cos, once taken as marking the end of a world, beyond which lay only terror and mystery, and the devouring, waiting, stirring vastness of turbulent Thassa, the sea, fierce summoner of winds, raiser of storms, caster of fire, player with ships, jealous of her secrets. "And who has forbidden it to you?" asked Aktis. "Cos, hated Cos! That not you but that it will be safe, that it may do what it wants with you, and to you. That you will be defenseless and at her mercy! Every tyranny wishes to deprive the tyrannized of the means to resist! What tyranny would not seek to do so, what tyranny would not struggle to bring about a situation so much to its advantage? And meanwhile, the docile verr, so proud and jealous of their weakness, so enamored of their impotence, find themselves not only at the mercy of the tyranny but at the mercy of outlaws, rogues and raiders! My brothers, my caste brothers, put aside the timidity of the urt. Seize up the stealth and cunning of the sleen, the courage of the mighty larl. Arm yourselves! Arm yourselves!" "In the fields, outside their walls," said Thurnock, "the townsfolk might perish, starving and thirsting, dying of exposure and beasts, driven away from palisades, forced into the wilderness, by hostile peasants, jealous of their lands and resources, their crops, animals, and stores. Those of my caste look not benignly on crowds of dangerous, hungry refugees." When Seremides sat in his large chair, his crutch hidden away, his lower body covered with a sheet or blanket, his missing leg was concealed. He could pass easily as an invalid or someone somehow ill or infirm. Itinerant barbers, tradesmen, and merchants would see him so. Outside the apartment he was borne, as many seemingly rich men, in a rented palanquin with its hired bearers. I conducted most business. Our marketing was done primarily by Iris. We gave out to the few who were aware of his presence that he was an affluent recluse, one jealous of his privacy. As I may have mentioned, Iris was quite attractive and her neck, of course, was closely, clearly, encircled by the slave band. Had a similar liberty been taken in the case of a free woman, the mariner might have risked impalement. Free women tend to be jealous of their bodies. This is doubtless one reason why free women, stripped of their veils and robes, may find their reduction to slavery particularly disconcerting. |       
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