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Now
,
the
foregoing
were
the
glimpses
and
glimmerings
that
came
to
me
,
when
,
in
Cell
One
of
Solitary
in
San
Quentin
,
I
stared
myself
unconscious
by
means
of
a
particle
of
bright
,
light-radiating
straw
.
How
did
these
things
come
to
me
?
Surely
I
could
not
have
manufactured
them
out
of
nothing
inside
my
pent
walls
any
more
than
could
I
have
manufactured
out
of
nothing
the
thirty-five
pounds
of
dynamite
so
ruthlessly
demanded
of
me
by
Captain
Jamie
,
Warden
Atherton
,
and
the
Prison
Board
of
Directors
.
I
am
Darrell
Standing
,
born
and
raised
on
a
quarter
section
of
land
in
Minnesota
,
erstwhile
professor
of
agronomy
,
a
prisoner
incorrigible
in
San
Quentin
,
and
at
present
a
death-sentenced
man
in
Folsom
.
I
do
not
know
,
of
Darrell
Standing
's
experience
,
these
things
of
which
I
write
and
which
I
have
dug
from
out
my
store-houses
of
subconsciousness
.
I
,
Darrell
Standing
,
born
in
Minnesota
and
soon
to
die
by
the
rope
in
California
,
surely
never
loved
daughters
of
kings
in
the
courts
of
kings
;
nor
fought
cutlass
to
cutlass
on
the
swaying
decks
of
ships
;
nor
drowned
in
the
spirit-rooms
of
ships
,
guzzling
raw
liquor
to
the
wassail-shouting
and
death-singing
of
seamen
,
while
the
ship
lifted
and
crashed
on
the
black-toothed
rocks
and
the
water
bubbled
overhead
,
beneath
,
and
all
about
.
Such
things
are
not
of
Darrell
Standing
's
experience
in
the
world
.
Yet
I
,
Darrell
Standing
,
found
these
things
within
myself
in
solitary
in
San
Quentin
by
means
of
mechanical
self-hypnosis
.
No
more
were
these
experiences
Darrell
Standing
's
than
was
the
word
"
Samaria
"
Darrell
Standing
's
when
it
leapt
to
his
child
lips
at
sight
of
a
photograph
.
One
can
not
make
anything
out
of
nothing
.
In
solitary
I
could
not
so
make
thirty-five
pounds
of
dynamite
.
Nor
in
solitary
,
out
of
nothing
in
Darrell
Standing
's
experience
,
could
I
make
these
wide
,
far
visions
of
time
and
space
.
These
things
were
in
the
content
of
my
mind
,
and
in
my
mind
I
was
just
beginning
to
learn
my
way
about
So
here
was
my
predicament
:
I
knew
that
within
myself
was
a
Golconda
of
memories
of
other
lives
,
yet
I
was
unable
to
do
more
than
flit
like
a
madman
through
those
memories
.
I
had
my
Golconda
but
could
not
mine
it
.
I
remembered
the
case
of
Stainton
Moses
,
the
clergyman
who
had
been
possessed
by
the
personalities
of
St.
Hippolytus
,
Plotinus
,
Athenodorus
,
and
of
that
friend
of
Erasmus
named
Grocyn
.
And
when
I
considered
the
experiments
of
Colonel
de
Rochas
,
which
I
had
read
in
tyro
fashion
in
other
and
busier
days
,
I
was
convinced
that
Stainton
Moses
had
,
in
previous
lives
,
been
those
personalities
that
on
occasion
seemed
to
possess
him
.
In
truth
,
they
were
he
,
they
were
the
links
of
the
chain
of
recurrence
.
But
more
especially
did
I
dwell
upon
the
experiments
of
Colonel
de
Rochas
.
By
means
of
suitable
hypnotic
subjects
he
claimed
that
he
had
penetrated
backwards
through
time
to
the
ancestors
of
his
subjects
.
Thus
,
the
case
of
Josephine
which
he
describes
.
She
was
eighteen
years
old
and
she
lived
at
Voiron
,
in
the
department
of
the
Isère
.
Under
hypnotism
Colonel
de
Rochas
sent
her
adventuring
back
through
her
adolescence
,
her
girlhood
,
her
childhood
,
breast-infancy
,
and
the
silent
dark
of
her
mother
's
womb
,
and
,
still
back
,
through
the
silence
and
the
dark
of
the
time
when
she
,
Josephine
,
was
not
yet
born
,
to
the
light
and
life
of
a
previous
living
,
when
she
had
been
a
churlish
,
suspicious
,
and
embittered
old
man
,
by
name
Jean-Claude
Bourdon
,
who
had
served
his
time
in
the
Seventh
Artillery
at
Besançon
,
and
who
died
at
the
age
of
seventy
,
long
bedridden
.
Yes
,
and
did
not
Colonel
de
Rochas
in
turn
hypnotize
this
shade
of
Jean-Claude
Bourdon
,
so
that
he
adventured
farther
back
into
time
,
through
infancy
and
birth
and
the
dark
of
the
unborn
,
until
he
found
again
light
and
life
when
,
as
a
wicked
old
woman
,
he
had
been
Philomène
Carteron
?
But
try
as
I
would
with
my
bright
bit
of
straw
in
the
oozement
of
light
into
solitary
,
I
failed
to
achieve
any
such
definiteness
of
previous
personality
.
I
became
convinced
,
through
the
failure
of
my
experiments
,
that
only
through
death
could
I
clearly
and
coherently
resurrect
the
memories
of
my
previous
selves
.
But
the
tides
of
life
ran
strong
in
me
.
I
,
Darrell
Standing
,
was
so
strongly
disinclined
to
die
that
I
refused
to
let
Warden
Atherton
and
Captain
Jamie
kill
me
.
