Huxley beautifully contrasts man’s natural state with the communal comfort he seems to be barreling after, and may one day achieve. With that said, he shies not from the violence of religion in action, nor from the tragedies of a truly meaningful life, nor from the irrefutable humility of even the broadest individual facing the hypnotized flesh of millions. While the rulers of civilized society use the reservation as a fear-festering tool of hate and submission, Huxley uses it to open the reader’s eyes to the importance of virtue, the beauty of a soul shaped by vicissitudes, and the interminable multiplication of possibility for man with humble grasp on the reigns of his soul, his gaze invariably fixed on the unattainable ideal.

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