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Gorean Book Quote Requests
Requests 1-173 were asked and answered back when there were only 25 books.
Also, some of the early questions were unintentionally truncated and cannot be restored. However, the answers are shown in their totality.
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| Q # | Question |
| 274 | Hello, something that made me go, "hmmmm.." came to my attention.
Is the term "BOOK" used within the Gorean series aside from maybe a description of the entire series ?
Answer
So, it seems the answer to your question is quite extensive . . .
Following are not even every reference to "book" but they are those most relevant.
Something about the lettering reminded me of that on a colonial charter, a page of which had been photocopied for an illustration in one of my books.
Tarnsman of Gor Book 1 Page 14
I had begun to think in Gorean as well, and after a time I was conscious of a deliberate mental shift involved in thinking in English. After a few English sentences or a page or so in one of my father's books, I would be at home again in my native tongue, but the shift was there, and necessary.
Tarnsman of Gor Book 1 Page 49
I had never seen one of the tarns before, except on the tapestry in my apartment and in illustrations in certain books I had studied devoted to the care, breeding, and equipment of tarns.
Tarnsman of Gor Book 1 Page 50
I sent my friend at the college a belated check for his camping equipment, which had been destroyed with the blue envelope in the mountains. Very kindly, he arranged for my books and other belongings to be sent to my new address.
Tarnsman of Gor Book 1 Page 218
The title Outlaw of Gor, incidentally, is mine, not Cabot's. This is also the case, perhaps it should be mentioned, with the first book, Tarnsman of Gor, and the present book, Priest-Kings of Gor.
Priest-Kings of Gor Book 3 Page 8
There was indeed a Tarl Cabot answering the description of these accounts, who was raised in Bristol, and who attended Oxford and taught in the small New England college referred to in the first book, and who subsequently rented an apartment in midtown Manhattan at dates congruent with the accounts in the first and second books. In short, what can be confirmed, I have confirmed.
Priest-Kings of Gor Book 3 Page 9
If one had encountered him in the Eighteenth Century one might take him for a jolly, snuff-sniffing, roisterous country squire, knowing himself the salt of the earth, not above twitting the parson nor pinching the serving girls; in the Nineteenth Century he would have owned an old book shop and worked at a high desk, quite outdated, kept his money in a sock, distributed it indiscriminately to all who asked him for it, and publicly read Chaucer and Darwin to scandalize lady customers and the local clergy;
Priest-Kings of Gor Book 3 Page 25
Scents, of course, will fade in time, but the specially prepared synthetic products of the Priest-Kings can last for thousands of years and, in the long run, will surely outlast the fading print of human books, the disintegrating celluloid of our films, perhaps even the carved, weathering stones so imperishably attesting the incomparable glories of our numerous kings, conquerors and potentates.
Priest-Kings of Gor Book 3 Page 100
The Initiates had their way of life, their ancient traditions, their given livelihood, the prestige of their caste, which they claimed to be the highest on the planet, their teachings, their holy books, their services, their role to play in the culture.
Priest-Kings of Gor Book 3 Page 298
I recalled what I had heard whispered of once before, in a tavern in Ar, the terrible Scar Codes of the Wagon Peoples, for each of the hideous marks on the face of these men had a meaning, a significance that could be read by the Paravaci, the Kassars, the Kataii, the Tuchuks as clearly as you or I might read a sign in a window or a sentence in a book.
Nomads of Gor Book 4 Page 16
"Of course," she said, numbly. "Why not?" Then suddenly she jerked at the hobble but could not rise and nearly fell, and pounded her left fist into the dirt before her. "I don't want to be a slave!" she cried. "I don't want to be a slave!"
"I'm sorry," I said.
She looked up at me. There were tears in her eyes. "He has no right!" she cried.
"He has the right," I said.
"Of course," she wept, putting her head down. "It is like a book - a chair an animal. She is yours! Take her! Keep her until tomorrow! Return her in the morning when you are finished with her!"
Nomads of Gor Book 4 Page 162
"As you probably have suspected, noting the difference in gravitational field," said Flaminius, "this is not Earth." He regarded them evenly. "This is the Counter-Earth," he said. "This is the planet Gor."
"There is no such place!" cried Phyllis.
Flaminius smiled. "You have heard of it?" he asked. "It is only in books!" cried Phyllis. "It is an invention!"
"This is Gor," said Flaminius.
Virginia gasped, drawing back.
"You have heard, as many others," he asked, "of the Counter-Earth?"
"It is only in stories," she said.
Flaminius laughed.
"I read of Gor," said Virginia. "It seemed to me very real."
Flaminius smiled. "In the books of Tarl Cabot you have read of this world."
Assassin of Gor Book 5 Pages 131 - 132
They are also responsible for bending and fastening certain numbers of young trees so that they will grow into desired shapes, usually to be used for frames, and stem and sternposts. Individual trees, not in the preserves, which are claimed by Port Kar, are marked with the seal of the arsenal. The location of all such trees is kept in a book available to the Council of Captains.
Raiders of Gor Book 6 Page 141
"Gather up and guard the book of the Council," I told the Scribe who had been at the great table.
"Yes, Captain," said he, leaping to seize it up.
Raiders of Gor Book 6 Page 144
He presented a folio-sized book, bound with golden cord and sealed with wax, bearing the impress of the Ubar of Tyros, Chenbar.
The admiral, to one side, was being fitted with wrist and ankle irons, joined by a length of chain.
I broke the golden cord and the seal and opened the master cargo lists.
. . .
I snapped shut the book. "If these figures are correct," I said to Clitus, "as doubtless they are, we and the Captains of Port Kar are today the masters of much treasure."
Raiders of Gor Book 6 Pages 207 - 208
The scribe, haggard behind the great table, sitting before the book of the council, looked up at me.
Raiders of Gor Book 6 Page 255
I was awakened by the sun streaming through the curtains. I stretched. It was a warm, lazy, lazy day. It was near noon. I sleep nude, between white satin sheets. I reached over to the ash tray on the night table near the bed and lit a cigarette. There was nothing unusual about the room. A stuffed toy, a fluffy koala bear, lay near the foot of the bed. The books lay on their tables. The lamp shade was tilted slightly as I remembered from the night before.
Captive of Gor Book 7 Page 5
There are scrolls, books, on Gor, which may be purchased inexpensively, on the feeding, care, and training of female slaves.
Marauders of Gor Book 9 Page 144
A man had stood by, making entries in a book. When her identification anklet had been removed, after she was in the wrist-ring, the man removing it had said something to the man with the book, and an entry had been made. When the girls were, coffled, the man with the book had signed a paper, giving it to the captain of the slave ship. She knew it must be a receipt for merchandise received. The cargo manifests, apparently, had been correct. She had pulled weakly at the wrist-ring, but it, of course, held her. It had been then that the man with the book had asked the captain if he would return soon. The man with the book spoke in an accent, Gorean.
Tribesmen of Gor Book 10 Pages 14 - 15
"Information such as this is usually confidential to the municipality," said the officer.
I placed a silver tarsk on the table.
Without taking it he went to a set of heavy, leaved books, bound in heavy, black leather, on a nearby shelf.
"She was bought for two tarsks, from a caravan master named Zad of the Oasis of Farad," he said.
. . .
I checked the book myself. Its entries were not coded.
Tribesmen of Gor Book 10 Pages 55 - 56
"Do not confuse a code with a cipher," said Bosk. "In a code, a given character, or set of characters, will commonly correlate with a word, as opposed to a letter. Codes require code books. Codes, in effect, cannot be broken. If the code book can be captured, of course, the code is useless. Codes are vulnerable in one way, ciphers in another."
"Do you feel the enemy would risk a code book, or code device, on Gor?" asked Samos.
Bosk smiled. "It seems unlikely," he said.
. . .
"It requires that both sender and receiver have the deciphering tables at hand," said Bosk. "Thus, although it is more convenient than a code book, it shares some of the vulnerability of the code book."
Slave Girl of Gor Book 11 Pages 384 - 385
"Look there," said Shaba, indicating a table to one side, on which there lay a cylindrical leather case, with a leather cap, and four notebooks, heavy and bound with leather.
"I see," I said.
"There is a map case there," he said, "and my notebooks. I have, in my journey, charted the Ua, and in the notebooks I have recorded my observations. Those things, though you, of the warriors, may not understand this, are priceless."
Explorers of Gor Book 13 Page 433
"Do you believe Gor exists?" she asked.
"Of course not," I said. "It is an interesting fictional creation. No one believes it truly exists."
"I have done some research," she said. "There are too many things, too much that is unexplained. I think a pattern is forming. Could it not be that the Gorean books are, in effect, a way of preparing the Earth and its peoples for the revelation of the true existence of a Counter-Earth, should it sometime be expedient to make its presence known?"
Fighting Slave of Gor Book 14 Page 16
Miss Henderson, now gagged, lay unconscious on her back on the cement.
The heavy man put the case down on the steel table, made a note of something in a small notebook, and then threw one of the steel devices to the fellow who stood by Miss Henderson, he who had gagged her unconscious body.
I saw then that the device was indeed a steel anklet. The man snapped it snugly about Miss Henderson's ankle, her left ankle. The snap was heavy, sharp, businesslike. Her ankle was then locked in the device. To my horror I realized she could not remove it. She would have to wear it until men chose to take it from her.
"H-46427" asked the heavy man.
The other man lifted Miss Henderson's ankle, inspecting the steel locked there. "Yes," he said.
The heavy man closed his notebook.
Fighting Slave of Gor Book 14 Pages 42 - 43
I had returned by way of the passage behind the Ubar's box in the baiting pit. Once here, I had begun my search, in various rooms, for obvious, unconcealed paraphernalia, of a sort that might be germane to kaissa, such things as boards and pieces, books, sheaves of papers, and records.
Players of Gor Book 20 Page 368
In a bit the attendant had returned with a large, somewhat dusty, oblong ledgerlike book. It was tied shut with a cord. It contained several pages. It was bound in leather. On the cover, though it was hard to see from where I stood, there seemed to be some designations, such as perhaps dates and numbers. "The older records, such as these," he said, "are kept here, together with duplicates of the more current records. The more current records, together with duplicates of the older records, are kept at the house."
I nodded. In that way two identical sets would be maintained, in different locations. This was not uncommon with Gorean bookkeeping, particularly in certain kinds of businesses.
Mercenaries of Gor Book 21 Page 299
"The book is on the bottom shelf," I said.
"But soon perhaps," he said, "books will be behind you."
"It is down there," I said, "on the shelf, on the bottom."
"Are you a modern woman?" he asked.
"Of course," I said. I did not know what else to say. In one sense, of course, I supposed this was terribly false.
"Yes," he said, "I can see that it is true. You are tight, and prissy."
I made as though to leave, but his eyes held me where I was, immobile. It was almost as though I was held in place, standing there, before him, by a fixed collar, mounted on a horizontal rod, extending from a wall.
"Are you one of the modern women who are intent upon destroying men?" he asked.
I regarded him, startled.
"Are you guilty of such crimes?" he asked.
"I do not know what you are talking about," I said, frightened.
He smiled. "Are you familiar with the book on the bottom shelf?" he asked.
"Not really," I said. It was a standard reference source, but in a limited area. I had never used it.
"There are several such books," he said, "but it is surely one of the finest."
"I am sure it is a valuable, excellent, reference work," I said.
"It tells of a world very different from that in which you live," he said, "a world very much simpler, and more basic, a world more fundamental, and less hypocritical, and far fresher and cleaner, in its way, and more alive and wild than yours."
"Than mine?" I said. His voice, now that he spoke at length, seemed to have some trace of an accent. But I could not begin to place it.
"It was a world in which men and women stood closer to the rims of life," he said. "It was a world of tides and gods, of spears and Caesars, of games, and wreathes of laurel, of the clash, detectable for miles, of phalanxes, of the marchings of legions, in measured stride, of the long roads and the fortified camps, of the coming and going of the oared ships, of the pourings of offerings, wine and salt, and oil, into the sea."
I said nothing.
"And in such a world women such as you were bought and sold as slaves," he said.
"That world is gone," I said.
"There is another, not unlike it, which exists," he said.
"That is absurd," I said.
"I have seen it," he said.
"The book is here," I said, "on the bottom shelf." I was trembling. I was terribly frightened.
"Get it," he said.
I lowered myself to my knees. I drew out the book. I looked up at him. I was on my knees before him.
"Open it," he said.
I did so. Within it was a sheet of folded paper.
I opened the sheet of folded paper. On it was writing.
"Read it," he said.
"'I am a slave,'" I read. Then I looked up. He had left. I leaned over, on my knees, bending far over, clutching the paper. I was giddy and faint.
Dancer of Gor Book 22 Pages 18 - 19
"Yet in your personal library, that in your quarters, there are such books as Rostovtzeff's History of the Ancient World and Mommsen's History of Rome," he said. "Have you read them?"
"Yes," I said.
"They are now both out of print," he said.
"I bought them in a secondhand bookstore," I said. He had spoken of my "quarters," and not, say, of my "rooms" or my "apartment." To me that seemed odd. Too, as he spoke now, at greater length, his accent, as it had once been before, was detectable. Still, however, I could not place it. I was sure his native tongue was not English. I did not know what his background might be. I had never encountered a man like him. I had not known they existed.
"Women such as you," he said, "use such books as cosmetics and ornaments, as mere intellectual adornments. They mean no more to you than your lipstick and eye shadow, than the baubles in your jewelry boxes. I despise women such as you."
I regarded him, frightened. I did not understand his hostility. He seemed to bear me some hatred, or some kind of woman he thought I was, some hatred. I was afraid he did not wish to understand me. He seemed unwilling to recognize that there might be some delicacy and authenticity in my interest in these things, for their own value and beauty. To be sure, perhaps a bit of my motivation in their acquisition had been from vanity, but, yet, I was sure that there had been something genuine there, too. There must have been!
"Did you learn anything from the books?" he asked.
"I think so," I said.
"Did you learn the worlds of which they speak?" he asked.
"A little about them," I said.
"Perhaps it will do you some good," he mused.
"I do not understand," I said.
"But such books," he said, "are now behind you."
"I do not understand," I said.
"You will no longer need them where you are going," he said.
Dancer of Gor Book 22 Pages 34 - 35
book, which is supposedly written by Dina, "a slave," which continues to appear in various editions and revisions, because of its intelligence and sensitivity, is actually, and must be, written by a free woman.
Magicians of Gor Book 25 Page 193
"What of the Prition of Clearchus of Cos?" I asked.
"A Cosian?" said Marcus.
Yes, I said.
"That will not be found in Ar," he said.
"It used to be," I said, "at least before the war."
"Yes, Master," she beamed. "I have read it!"
"You, a free girl, have read it?" I asked. To be sure, the book is a classic.
Magicians of Gor Book 25 Page 194
Indeed, stripped, collared slaves served masters in their own cities, sometimes in the most expensive and prized of domiciles, in penthouses, and such. On marbled floors might patter the feet of bangled slaves. On rich rugs, amidst glass and chromium, and high bookcases, might they kneel.
Prize of Go Book r27 Page 481
Do not rumors rustle about? Are not strange stories borne on surprising winds? Are not unusual thoughts found in green places, amongst trees?
But I had never read a Gorean book.
I had been afraid to read a Gorean book.
I now wonder why that was.
I think I feared what might be found there.
Plunder of Gor Book 34 Page 10
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