Only on Gor had I felt my true femaleness, and that in the presence of Gorean males, who owned or could own me, men capable of owning a woman, as most men of Earth simply are not. My femaleness had been suppressed on Earth, first by my own conditioning, the confused product of centuries of intellectual and social pathology, and, secondly, by the set of societal institutions in which I had grown up and existed, rather than lived, institutions to which sexuality was irrelevant, if not inimical. It is difficult to know what would constitute a good society. Perhaps it would be a necessary condition for such a society that its institutions would be compatible, at least, with the truths of biology. A society which sickens and weakens its members, which cripples them and denies them to themselves, is not obviously superior to a society in which human beings are organic and whole, healthy, and happy and great. The test of a society is perhaps not its conformance or nonconformance to principles but the nature and human prosperity of its members. Let each look about himself and judge for himself the success of his own society. Man lives confused in the ruins of ideologies. Perhaps he will someday emerge from the caves and pens of his past. That would be a beautiful day to see. There would be a sunlit world waiting for him.
There is perhaps little to be said for the Gorean world, but in it men and women are alive.
It is a world which I would not willingly surrender.
It is a very different world from mine; in its way, I suppose it is worse; in its way, I know it is better.
It is its own place, not another's. It is honest and real. In it there is good air.
'Who is your master, little vulo?' asked Tup Ladletender of me.
'My master is Thurnus,' I said, 'caste leader in Tabuk's Ford, of the caste of peasants, one who makes fields fruitful and is, too, a trainer of sleen.' I was proud of Thurnus, who owned me. A peasant who is actively engaged in agricultural pursuits is spoken of as one who makes fields fruitful. Sometimes this expression is applied, too, to peasants who are not actively engaged in such pursuits, as an honorific appelation. Whereas caste membership is commonly connected with the practice of an occupation, such as agriculture, or commerce, or war, there can be, of course, caste members who are not engaged in caste work and individuals who do certain forms of work who are not members of that caste commonly associated with such work. Caste, commonly, though not invariably, is a matter of birth. One may, too, be received into a caste by investment. Normally mating takes place among caste members, but if the mating is of mixed caste, the woman may elect to retain caste, which is commonly done, or be received into the caste 'of the male companion. Caste membership of the children born of such a union is a function of the caste of the father. Similar considerations, in certain cities, hold of citizenship. Caste is important to Goreans in a way that is difficult for members of a non-caste society to understand. Though there are doubtless difficulties involved with caste structure the caste situation lends an individual identity and pride, allies him with thousands of caste brothers, and provides him with various opportunities and services. Recreation on Gor is often associated with caste, and tournaments and entertainments. Similarly, most public charity on Gor is administered through caste structure. The caste system is not inflexible and there are opportunities for altering caste, but men seldom avail themselves of them; they take great pride in their castes, often comparing others' castes unfavorably to their own; a Gorean's caste, by the time he reaches adulthood, seems to have become a part of his very blood and being; the average Gorean would no more think of altering caste than the average man of Earth would of altering his citizenship, from, say, American to Russian, or French to Chinese. The caste structure, in spite of its many. defects, doubtless contributes to the stability of Gorean society, a society in which the individual has a place, in which his work is respected, and in which he can plan intelligently with respect to the future. The clan structures are kinship groups. They function, on the whole, given mating practices, within the caste structure, but they are not identical to it. For example, in a given clan there may be, though often are not, individuals of different castes. Many Goreans think of the clan as a kinship group within a caste. For most practical purposes they are correct. At least it seldom does much harm to regard the matter in this way. Clans, because of practical limitations on mobility, are usually associated, substantially, with a given city; the caste, on the other hand, is transmunicipal or intermunicipal. These remarks would not be complete without mentioning Home Stones. Perhaps the most significant difference between the man of Earth and the Gorean is that the Gorean has a Home Stone, and the man of Earth does not. It is difficult to make clear to a non-Gorean the significance of the Home Stone, for the non- Gorean has never had a Home Stone, and thus cannot understand its meaning, its reality. I think that I shall not try to make clear what is the significance to a Gorean of the Home Stone. It would be difficult to put into words; indeed, it is perhaps impossible to put into words; I shall not try. I think this is one of the saddest things about the men of Earth, that they have no Home Stone.
'What is your name, little vulo?' asked Tup Ladletender of me.
'My master has been pleased to call me 'Dina, ' I said.
'If your master has been pleased to call you 'Dina, ' said Ladletender, 'then you are Dina.'
'Oh, yes, Master!' I said, quickly. I had not meant to imply that my name might not be 'Dina. Melina was glaring at me. 'I am Dina,' I said swiftly, 'only Dina, the girl of my master.' Those four letters, in Gorean, as in English, were my complete and only designation. Such matters lie entirely within the determination of the Master.
'Pretty Dina,' said Ladletender.
'Thank you, Master,' I said.
'Do you want her?' asked Melina.
'She has rough hands,' said Ladletender. He pulled my small hands, bound, out from the post, and rubbed his thumbs into my palms. I shuddered. 'You have rough hands, Dina,' he said.
'I am a peasant's girl, Master,' I said. My hands were rough from digging, and washing, and holding tools.
I felt his thumbs rotating slowly in my palms. They pressed in. I thrust myself against the post, eyes closed.
'With lotions,' said he, 'they may be softened, so that they would be fit to caress men.'
'Yes, Master,' I said. I shuddered to think what his thumbs might have felt like in my palms, had my palms been slave-girl soft.
'Make an offer for the little she-sleen,' said Melina.
Ladletender touched my neck, and put his finger inside the rope collar, and pulled it Out a hit from my neck. 'You wear a rope collar,' he said. 'It must be rough and unpleasant.'
'What pleases my Master,' I said, 'pleases me.'
'Do you lie to a free man?' he asked.
'Oh, no, Master!' I cried. To be sure, the rope collar was unpleasant, and for that reason I did not like it, but, on the other hand, I, a slave, was naturally desperately eager to please Thurnus, who was my master. It was his will to which mine must conform. It was he whom I must please, fully. There was thus a sense in which what pleased Thurnus pleased me. I was pleased to please him. Did I not please him I might be summarily slain. I was pleased to please him. To please the master is what most pleases the girl.
'She is trying to be pleasing,' said Melina. 'Would you not like her naked in your furs? She can be purchased cheaply.'
'How cheaply?' he asked.
'Cheaply,' she said.
'Does Thurnus know you are selling her off?' he asked.
'It does not matter what Thurnus knows,' said Melina. 'I am free and companion to Thurnus. I may do what I wish.'
'Would you like, pretty Dina,' said Ladletender, fingering my neck, 'to have a pretty steel collar, perhaps enameled?'
I have never owned a collar,' I said.
'Nor would you then,' pointed out Ladletender.
'Yes, Master,' I said, humbled.
It was not I who would own a collar, but I, collared, who would be owned. The collar, like myself, would belong to the master. It would be his collar. I would not own it. I would only wear it.
'This rope is rough and coarse,' said Ladletender, fingering the rope collar. 'Would you not like a smooth steel collar, one slender and gleaming, or perhaps ornamented and cunningly wrought, or enameled, perhaps to match your eyes and hair, one designed in color and workmanship to enhance your style of beauty, one perhaps measured or custom-fitted to the beauty of your own slave throat?'
