Jostein Gaarder - Sophie's World - A Novel About the History of Philosophy

“I’m trying to picture it.”

“If you have a balloon and you paint black spots on it, the spots will move away from each other as you blow up the balloon. That’s what’s happening with the galaxies in the universe. We say that the universe is expanding.”

“What makes it do that?”

“Most astronomers agree that the expanding universe can only have one explanation: Once upon a time, about 15 billion years ago, all substance in the universe was assembled in a relatively small area. The substance was so dense that gravity made it terrifically hot. Finally it got so hot and so tightly packed that it exploded. We call this explosion the Big Bang.”

“Just the thought of it makes me shudder.”

“The Big Bang caused all the substance in the universe to be expelled in all directions, and as it gradually cooled, it formed stars and galaxies and moons and planets ...”

“But I thought you said the universe was still expanding?”

“Yes I did, and it’s expanding precisely because of this explosion billions of years ago. The universe has no timeless geography. The universe is a happening. The universe is an explosion. Galaxies continue to fly through the universe away from each other at colossal speeds.”

“Will they go on doing that for ever?”

“That’s one possibility. But there is another. You may recall that Alberto told Sophie about the two forces that cause the planets to remain in constant orbit round the sun?”

“Weren’t they gravity and inertia?”

“Right, and the same thing applies to the galaxies. Because even though the universe continues to expand, the force of gravity is working the other way. And one day, in a couple of billion years, gravity will perhaps cause the heavenly bodies to be packed together again as the force of the huge explosion begins to weaken. Then we would get a reverse explosion, a so-called implosion. But the distances are so great that it will happen like a movie that is run in slow motion. You might compare it with what happens when you release the air from a balloon.”

“Will all the galaxies be drawn together in a tight nucleus again?”

“Yes, you’ve got it. But what will happen then?”

“There would be another Big Bang and the universe would start expanding again. Because the same natural laws are in operation. And so new stars and galaxies will form.”

“Good thinking. Astronomers think there are two possible scenarios for the future of the universe. Either the universe will go on expanding forever so that the galaxies will draw further and further apart—or the universe will begin to contract again. How heavy and massive the universe is will determine what happens. And this is something astronomers have no way of knowing as yet.”

“But if the universe is so heavy that it begins to contract again, perhaps it has expanded and contracted lots of times before.”

“That would be an obvious conclusion. But on this point theory is divided. It may be that the expansion of the universe is something that will only happen this one time. But if it keeps on expanding for all eternity, the question of where it all began becomes even more pressing.”

“Yes, where did it come from, all that stuff that suddenly exploded?”

“For a Christian, it would be obvious to see the Big Bang as the actual moment of creation. The Bible tells us that God said ‘Let there be light!’ You may possibly also remember that Alberto indicated Christianity’s ‘linear’ view of history. From the point of view of a Christian belief in the creation, it is better to imagine the universe continuing to expand.”

“It is?”

“In the Orient they have a ‘cyclic’ view of history.

In other words, history repeats itself eternally. In India, for example, there is an ancient theory that the world continually unfolds and folds again, thus alternating between what Indians have called Brahman’s Day and Brahman’s Night. This idea harmonizes best, of course, with the universe expanding and contracting—in order to expand again—in an eternal cyclic process. I have a mental picture of a great cosmic heart that beats and beats and beats...”

“I think both theories are equally inconceivable and equally exciting.”

“And they can compare with the great paradox of eternity that Sophie once sat pondering in her garden: either the universe has always been there—or it suddenly came into existence out of nothing ...”

“Ouch!”

Hilde clapped her hand to her forehead.

“What was that?”

“I think I’ve just been stung by a gadfly.”

“It was probably Socrates trying to sting you into life.”

Sophie and Alberto had been sitting in the red convertible listening to the major tell Hilde about the universe.

“Has it struck you that our roles are completely reversed?” asked Alberto after a while.

“In what sense?”

“Before it was they who listened to us, and we couldn’t see them. Now we’re listening to them and they can’t see us.”

“And that’s not all.”

“What are you referring to?”

“When we started, we didn’t know about the other reality that Hilde and the major inhabited. Now they don’t know about ours.”

“Revenge is sweet.”

“But the major could intervene in our world.”

“Our world was nothing but his interventions.”

“I haven’t yet relinquished all hope that we may also intervene in their world.”

“But you know that’s impossible. Remember what happened in the Cinderella? I saw you trying to get out that bottle of Coke.”

Sophie was silent. She gazed out over the garden while the major explained about the Big Bang. There was something about that term which started a train of thought in her mind.

She began to rummage around in the car.

“What are you doing?” asked Alberto.

“Nothing.”

She opened the glove compartment and found a wrench. She grabbed it and jumped out of the car. She went over to the glider and stood right in front of Hilde and her father. First she tried to catch Hilde’s eye but that was quite useless. Finally she raised the wrench above her head and crashed it down on Hilde’s forehead.

“Ouch!” said Hilde.

Then Sophie hit the major on his forehead, but he didn’t react at all.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I think I’ve just been stung by a gadfly.”

“It was probably Socrates trying to sting you into life.”

Sophie lay down on the grass and tried to push the glider. But it remained motionless. Or did she manage to get it to move a millimeter?

“There’s a chilly breeze coming up,” said Hilde.

“No, there isn’t. It’s very mild.”

“It’s not only that. There is something.”

“Only the two of us and the cool summer night.”

“No, there’s something in the air.”

“And what might that be?”

“You remember Alberto and his secret plan?”

“How could I forget!”

“They simply disappeared from the garden party. It was as if they had vanished into thin air . . .”

“Yes, but...”

“... into thin air.”

“The story had to end somewhere. It was just something I wrote.”

“That was, yes, but not what happened afterward. Suppose they were here . . .”

“Do you believe that?”

“I can feel it, Dad.”

Sophie ran back to the car.

“Impressive,” said Alberto grudgingly as she climbed on board clasping the wrench tightly in her hand. “You have unusual talents, Sophie. Just wait and see.”

The major put his arm around Hilde.

“Do you hear the mysterious play of the waves?”

“Yes. We must get the boat in the water tomorrow.”

“But do you hear the strange whispering of the wind? Look how the aspen leaves are trembling.”