Table of Contents
About the Author
By the Same Author
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Book One THE PRINCE CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Book Two THE MASTER ARTISTS Part One CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
Part Two CHAPTER TWENTY–ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY–TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY–THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY–FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY–FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY–SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY–NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY–ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY–TWO
Part Three CHAPTER THIRTY–THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY–FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY–FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY–SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY–NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY–ONE
CHAPTER FORTY–TWO
CHAPTER FORTY–THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY–FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY–SIX
CHAPTER FORTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY–NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY–ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY–TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY–THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY–FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY–FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY–SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY–NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY–ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY–TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY–THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY–FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY–FIVE
CHAPTER SIXTY–SIX
CHAPTER SIXTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER SIXTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTY–NINE
CHAPTER SEVENTY
CHAPTER SEVENTY–ONE
CHAPTER SEVENTY–TWO
CHAPTER SEVENTY–THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY–FOUR
CHAPTER SEVENTY–FIVE
CHAPTER SEVENTY–SIX
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVENTY–EIGHT
Book Three THE WHITE WIND CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY–ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY–TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY–THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY–FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY–FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY–SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY–NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY–ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY–TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY–FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY–FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY–SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY–NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY–ONE
CHAPTER FORTY–TWO
CHAPTER FORTY–THREE
CHAPTER FORTY–FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY–FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY–SIX
CHAPTER FORTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY–NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY–ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY–TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY–THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY–FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY–FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY–SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY–SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY–EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY–NINE
CHAPTER–SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY–ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY–TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY–THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY–FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY–FIVE
CHAPTER SIXTY–SIX
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTY–NINE
CHAPTER–SEVENTY
CHAPTER SEVENTY–ONE
CHAPTER SEVENTY–TWO
CHAPTER SEVENTY–THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY–FOUR
Book Four THE ALCHEMY OF ALL THINGS CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY–ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY–TWO
'A book that consistently operates on many levels of meaning, its apparent simplicity, in fact, part of a rich fabric of symbol, echo and allusion...Okri loves paradox, one of the striking affinities he has with Blake, and uses words to point at the hidden, the space where the sacred lives and breathes...The intrusion of humanity's inhumanity anchors the metaphysical lyricism of the book, creatively chills its enchanted air, reminds us that all the best fairy tales hold a mirror up to the darkness of the world...But it is the imaginative generosity and peculiar purity of the writing that continually touch the heart. Here is a prose with a tender tread, alive to human frailty...[Okri] seduces the reader with a rapt recounting of the infinite within the particular' Observer
'The language of [Okri's] story is simple, courtly, timeless, childlike, beautiful...What he has created, howev
er, is a unique and beguiling world of his own imagining' Sunday Herald
'Each sentence is like a magical capsule breaking open with a burst of coloured light' Books Quarterly
'Okri's prose carries off a remarkably difficult balancing act in which reality is transfigured into a prose that aspires to be poetry...like many of Okri's books it's hard to describe because of the rich, dreamlike, almost hallucinatory prose' The Sunday Times (Scottish edition)
'This is quite, simply, a beautiful book...one that reminds us why we are all so special' Irish World
'Readers who loved The Famished Road, which won the Booker Prize, will fall on it avidly...Okri's is an art that sometimes communicates before it is understood. It echoes the Bible in it conundrums. It rhymes like Shakespeare in its couplets. It often evokes Judaism's Book of Life. And like the New Testament, it advocates that salvation stems from pure love' Scotsman
'This long-awaited novel from the author of The Famished Road is a bewitching story, at once old-fashioned fairy tale and modern exploration of human experience...Lyrical and intensely imaginative' Good Book Guide
'This most simple of plots belies the extraordinary messages and hidden meanings waiting to be extracted from Okri's text...a profound philosophical meditation... this book pushes the experience of reading far beyond any usual boundaries ... passionate, moving and intense' Scotland on Sunday
'Starbook is the book [Okri] has waited all his life to write, the completion of a story his mother began to tell him as a child...Okri considers the infection and destruction of a culture in such a way that it becomes clearly the province of art and not of history books to do so' Yorkshire Post
'At the centre of this novel – as it has been in many of [Okri's] novels – is the noble attempt to find the Good, the starting engine for recovery and progress, and the role of the artist, the storyteller, and the imagination in the process' Glasgow Herald
'Part mythical romance, part an exploration of freedom and regeneration, this is a rich tale with complex themes' Psychologies
'Visionary, Utopian and magical' Western Daily Press
'As ever with Okri, there are passages of incredible beauty' Financial Times
Ben Okri has published eight novels, including The Famished Road, for which he won the Booker Prize. He has also written collections of poetry, short stories and essays, and his work has been translated into more than twenty languages. He is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature and he has been awarded the OBE as well as numerous international prizes, including the Commonwealth Writers Prize for Africa, the Aga Khan Prize for Fiction and the Chianti Rufino-Antico Fattore. He is a Vice-President of the English Centre of International PEN and was presented with a Crystal Award by the World Economic Forum. He was born in Nigeria and lives in London.
Other books by Ben Okri:
Fiction
Flowers and Shadows
The Landscapes Within
Incidents at the Shrine
Stars of the New Curfew
The Famished Road
Songs of Enchantment
Astonishing the Gods
Dangerous Love
Infinite Riches
In Arcadia
Non-Fiction
Birds of Heaven
A Way of Being Free
Poetry
An African Elegy
Mental Fight
STARBOOK
A MAGICAL TALE OF LOVE
AND REGENERATION
BEN OKRI
This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
ISBN 9781407022550
Version 1.0
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First published in 2007 by Rider, an imprint of Ebury Publishing This edition published by Rider in 2008
Ebury Publishing is a Random House Group company
Copyright © Ben Okri 2007
Ben Okri has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This electronic book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
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ISBN: 9781407022550
Version 1.0
To buy books by your favourite authors and register for offers visit www.rbooks.co.uk
In memory of my father, Silver Okri, 1928–1998 With gratitude for the magic foundation
Acknowledgements
I wish to express my special thanks to the Marsh Agency,
To Paul Marsh, Camilla Ferrier and Jessica Woollard for their tenacity;
To Judith Kendra for her vision, and to all at Rider Books;
To Rosemary Clunie and the ongoing alchemy.
Book One
THE
PRINCE
CHAPTER ONE
This is a story my mother began to tell me when I was a child. The rest I gleaned from the book of life among the stars, in which all things are known.
In the heart of the kingdom there was a place where the earth was dark and sweet to taste. Anything that was planted grew in rich profusion. The village was built in the shape of a magnificent circle. And in the centre of the circle stood the palace of the king. Four rivers met in the forest around the village. The shrinehouse was at the edge of the village and the path that ran past it led to the outside world. The forest was dense about the village, and it seemed that those in the heart of the kingdom lived in a magic dream, an oasis of huts and good harvests in the midst of an enveloping world of trees.
There is an ancient saying in the village that my mother used to tell me. They say that it is not who you are that makes the world respect you, but what power it is that stands behind you. It is not you that the world sees, but that power. The village was small but, behind it, all around it, stood the power and the majesty of the dense forest. At night the forest was dark and rich with magic and enchantment. In the day it was lovely and of a sunlit green, and a haunting barely audible music could be heard from its earth. Gifted children often said that they could hear the trees singing charmed melodies. On certain nights, when the moon was full and white like the perfect egg at the beginning of creation, the wise ones claimed that the trees whispered stories in the abundant darkness. Those stories, they said, took form and wandered about the world and one day would take on a life of their own. The people of the village very rarely went into the forest because it was so powerful, so unpredictable, like the immeasurable mythology of an unknown god.
Long ago, in the time when the imagination ruled the world, there was a prince in this kingdom who grew up in the serenity of all things. He was my mother's ancestor, and he alone of all the people in that village loved playing in the forest. He was very handsome and fair and bright and the elders suspected that
he was a child of heaven, one of those children from another place, who was not destined to live long. He was never so happy as when he played alone in the forest or by the river. He was a favourite of the mermaids and the mysterious girls of the forest and he took them flowers and things he had made and he played music to the spirits of the river. Because he was a child of heaven, he was left alone to do as he pleased, so long as he did not express a wish to die.
He was a surprise to the royal family. The soothsayers at his birth predicted for him an unusual life. He will be a king and a slave, they said. He will be sold like a goat, treated like an animal, he will fight in a war, he will suffer like a great sinner, he will live like a god, and will know freedom more than the freest of men. The most puzzling thing the soothsayers said, however, was that he would die young in his old age or that he would die old in his youth.
The elders expected him to be sickly. He never was. They didn't know whether to groom him for kingship. He showed no interest. Politics and royal duties bored him. He seemed to much prefer working with the common people in the farms, harvesting corn, teasing the maidens, building huts for the frail old women of the village, splitting firewood, and piping music around the edges of the kingdom, as if he were haunted by a sad beauty that fringed the limits of the world. It touched the hearts of the elders to see his fragile body bent to such difficult tasks he set himself, or to see his fading presence dissipate itself in the lovely music that he teased out in the dappled shadowy realm of the myth-infested forests that was his second home. What were they going to do about this royal vagabond, this noble tramp who so swayed the hearts of the women and the elders, who fascinated the young, who moved the heart of the kingdom like a string instrument plucked to perfection by a dying master? It was like watching a strange game of life and death being played out before the eyes of everyone.