Page 261 - BRAVE NEW WORLD By Aldous Huxley (1894-1963)

Brave New World By Aldous Huxley

sandalwood, camphor, cedar and newmown hay

(with occasional subtle touches of discord–a whiff of

kidney pudding, the faintest suspicion of pig's dung)

back to the simple aromatics with which the piece

began. The final blast of thyme died away; there

was a round of applause; the lights went up. In the

synthetic music machine the sound-track roll began

to unwind. It was a trio for hyper-violin, super-cello

and oboe-surrogate that now filled the air with its

agreeable languor. Thirty or forty bars–and then,

against this instrumental background, a much more

than human voice began towarble; now throaty,

now from the head, now hollow as a flute, now

charged with yearning harmonics, it effortlessly

passed from Gaspard's Forster's low record on the

very frontiers of musical tone to a trilled bat-note

high above the highest C to which (in 1770, at the

Ducal opera of Parma, and to the astonishment of

Mozart) Lucrezia Ajugari, alone of all the singers in

history, once piercingly gave utterance.

Sunk in their pneumatic stalls, Lenina and

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