Also, the reader believes it to the letter. After all, why shouldn't he? Only there is this curious result. The reader carries away in his mind the impression of unreality, of a country impossible to be understood and measured and traveled by the ordinary human and his equipment. It is interesting, just as are historical novels, or the superheroes of modern fiction, but it has no real relation to human life. In the last test, the undeniable untruth of the thing forces itself on him. He believes, but he does not understand. He accepts the fact, but he cannot grasp its human quality. The affair is interesting, but it is more or less concocted of cardboard for his amusement. Essential truth is lost.
All this, you must understand, is probably not a deliberate attempt to deceive. It is merely the display of the writer's boyish desire to be a hero in a brand new environment. When a man jumps back into caveman days, he digs up some of his ancestors' cave-qualities. Among these is the desire for personal flourish. His modern development of taste doesn't permit skewers in the ears and polished wire around the neck. So the man drapes himself in qualities instead.
