the obelisk press
STARBORN
BY
ARION
One of the eternal problems of society is to know how to deal with and where to place those people who diverge sexually from the natural and the average. Their numbers increase rapidly, or they may have always been as prevalent, but in the past the World was less aware of them. They cannot be disposed of merely by being classified either as oddities or diseased. Their condition has nothing to do with physical or, they themselves claim, with mental illness. They are different.
A considerable literature is devoted to the subject, but this deals generally with women, notable examples being Radclyffe Hall's Well of Loneliness and Gawen Brownrigg's Star Against Star. Now STARBORN by "Arion" appears, treating of the same subject, but in its male aspect; unprecedented in the frankness of its naïve confession. STARBORN is a human document as much as a novel; written without art, but with a veracity and a convincingness beyond all comment, it will leave the reader puzzled, ashamed or excited, or all three, according to his temperament.
60 francs
STARBORN
FIRST PUBLISHED JUNE 1938
the obelisk press
16, place vendome
paris
copyright in all countries
made in france
all rights reserved
Part 1.
Fairest of stars, last in the train of night
If better thou belong not to the dawn.
(milton.)
1.
By two headed Janus,
in her time, Nature framed strange fellows.
(shakespeare.)
Even the school house and garden became inexpressibly dear to James at the hour of parting. Farewell to companions and teacher with whom he had shared this room for several years. After tomorrow they might meet in new places, but they would be almost strangers then. Nor must he ever return to this room, only to see some other boy studying at his desk.
Above the blackboards long strips of dark paper covered the crumbling plaster wall. Water-colour sketches and designs in pen or crayon were mounted on this stiff paper. James saw in the topmost corner, just beneath the sloping ceiling, his impression of an ancient galley. Then something of him should remain here after he was gone. When Christmas holidays came to a close and the new term commenced, some boy or girl sitting at his desk might look at the picture on the wall, and wonder who had drawn the ship with majestic, billowing sails, exploring an emerald sea.
The graduating students formed a circle about their teacher, Miss Bradley, who sat pale and voiceless in their midst. They were all talking at once, laughter mingling with tears in their high, young voices. Miss Bradley's eyes reddened as she constantly brushed away stray wisps of white hair from her brow.
James sat apart from the others, at his desk. His hands were folded over the pretentiously printed diploma; he
plucked at the regal, red ribbon with his fingers. Leave-taking filled him with a sudden grief he could not share with the others.
Madelaine Bender, an impulsive, high-spirited girl, broke away from the little circle around Miss Bradley and came over to James.
"Now don't forget to be ready on time tonight. You are going to be called for at about quarter of eight. I know you will just love our house and all the grand surprises mummy and daddy have made for my graduation party!"
Madelaine spoke very rapidly while her great blue eyes became enormous from excitement. Straight, dark hair fell untidily over her shoulders. A silver button had come loose from her jacket and the velvet skirt was sprinkled with chalk powder. She stood directly in front of the boy, never still for a moment, fidgeting with the ink bottle on his desk. The button, dangling perilously from a single thread, bobbed up and down as she spoke, sometimes striking the edge of the desk, making a thin, tinkling sound. James looked up at her and said timidly, in an almost whispered voice:
"Madelaine… will you be glad to go away?"
For only a moment, her alert, mobile face was shadowed by a frown:
"Of course I don't want to leave. I've loved it here. We've all had such fun together… then I adore Miss Bradley. But we'll always be coming back to see her, and making up parties. I think high school should be terribly exciting. Daddy is letting me go to 'Polytechnic' because I can have lots of dramatics there in the freshman year. I'm looking forward to that most awfully. They give one Shakespeare play every year with costumes and scenery and everything."
With that Madelaine whisked away from him, for Miss Bradley had beckoned to her once more, to make some further inquiries about her graduation party.
James glanced at the old cuckoo clock suspended from
the wall above his desk. Three minutes before noon. Always when the hand reached this hour and the silly stuffed bird gave twelve feeble chirps, Miss Bradley would grimly murmur:
"One hour nearer the grave. School dismissed for lunch."