The Three Sirens (88 page)

A smile had formed itself upon Maud Hayden’s large face. With finality, she hit the button that stopped the tape, and knew that all had been said and done.

After returning the book to the bag, and capping the portable tape recorder with its metal top, she looked out the open doorway. The baggage was piled high now, and the Karpowiczes were there, and Harriet and Orville, and Rachel and Lisa. She could see Claire and Tom Courtney together, crossing the compound toward the others.

Captain Rasmussen and Professor Easterday came into sight, greeting the others, and the gathering natives, and now both Rasmussen and Easterday turned toward her hut and were coming to get her.

It was a good time and a bad time, but it was the time to go.

Pressing her palms to the desk, she lifted her bulk from the chair. She made certain to secure the lid of the tape recorder, and she cast about to see if there were any leftover papers. There were none, and she was ready.

Waiting, she wondered if she would ever return to The Three Sirens or if any of them out there would ever return. Or, she wondered, if they wanted to return, and Rasmussen and Courtney were no more, who on earth would there be to guide them to this unknown place?

The Three Sirens, she told herself, is Man’s eternal dream of
Eden Resurrected
. When the world heard of it from her, would the world believe it, and, believing it, seek it out? And then she wondered how long it would take the world to find it, if ever, if ever.

AN AFTERWORD

Off and on, for over four years, I did research on this novel, in order to provide a background, work out customs, develop characters—in short, to create a foundation of factual probability for my fiction.

In an attempt to understand the thinking, methods, personalities of physical and social anthropologists, living and dead, to learn something of their procedures and problems when in the field, to become acquainted with their discoveries and reports of unusual practices in diverse cultures, I read widely among the published writings of the musters of anthropology. For whatever knowledge and insight I have gained, I am primarily indebted to them.

As a supplement to my reading, I was fortunate enough to have the results of firsthand interviews with eleven of America’s leading anthropologists. These anthropologists were more than generous in offering their time, energy, wisdom in replying to numerous questions I devised for them, specific questions concerning material I needed for this fictitious narrative.

Where the nature of the information passed on to me in these interviews was highly personal opinions, anecdotes, experiences, I feel it only fair to keep my sources anonymous. However, since these unnamed sources provided suggestions and data that have made portions of this book possible, I thank them now for their courtesy, patience, and frankness.

I am eager to tender my sincerest thanks and appreciation specifically to several prominent anthropologists, who learnedly and candidly replied to my inquiries, and who gave unsparingly of their time and erudition. I wish to acknowledge my debt to Dr. Frank J. Essene, Head of the Department of Anthropology, University of Kentucky, Lexington, Kentucky; Dr. Leo A. Estel, Associate Professor of Anthropology, Ohio State University, Columbus, Ohio; Dr. John F. Goins, Associate Professor of Anthropology, University of California, Riverside, California; Dr. Gertrude Toffelmier, anthropologist, Oakland, California. Among those outside anthropology, I am most grateful to Dr. Eugene E. Levitt, Chief of the Psychology Section, Indiana University Medical Center, Indianapolis, Indiana, for his cooperation and advice.

I cannot state too strongly that the factual briefings I received through these interviews were used by me in a narrative that is wholly a work of fiction. Not one of the anthropologists who proffered me advice or information had any foreknowledge of the contents of this novel, or had any involvement in its fictional aspects. If I have understood the factual material imparted to me, and used it correctly, if the resultant book has some semblance of accuracy and realism, then a great share of the credit is due to my eminent informants.

For further assistance, I am beholden to Elizabethe Kempthorne, Corona, California; Luise Putcamp Johnson, Dallas, Texas; and Lilo and William Glozer, Berkeley, California. But, as ever, my deepest gratitude goes out to Sylvia Wallace, Wife, for literary advice, for listening, for love.

Needless to say, the characters in this novel are entirely products of my imagination. If similar persons exist in my country, or elsewhere, I am delighted with my perception but quick to insist that the resemblance is coincidental. The strands of plot, too, are born of one author’s fancies. As to the customs practiced on the Sirens, these are a mixture of fact and fabrication. Some of the customs described were altered or modified from actual usages in real communities in Polynesia; some were inspired by true traditions of surviving cultures, but have been elaborated upon by my own make-believe; some were originated totally by the author.

Finally, I should like to comment on the authenticity of the novel’s locale. While I have crossed the Pacific Ocean twice, I have never physically set foot on The Three Sirens. I have searched for them far and wide, across many years, but their location has always eluded me. Not until recently did I know why. The Sirens had been too near at hand to be seen. It was only when I looked inward that I found them at last. I discovered them one day while musing before my desk, and suddenly there they were, so clear, so familiar, so beautiful—and it came as no surprise at all that where they were, where they existed, had always existed, was in that uncharted region of the imagination which is tabu to all but those who forever seek what life hides from us behind its drab, almost impenetrable curtain of reality.

IRVING WALLACE

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA