 How is the book "Living a Normal Sex Life" seen by these people?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, August 1957. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. ] I was wandering among the tall grass of the slopes, listening to the soft whistling of the wind; allowing the grass to caress my toga and thighs. It was a day soft and clear; a day accepted by the young, cherished by we old. And Man returned, and settled down to live. Melia was a She, with the swelling breasts that were, so tradition states, quite prevalent among members of the race long ago, and are seldom seen today. Everything has evaporated in Maternite. A man my age does not hurry in the heat of the midday sun—maddugs nenglishmin go out in the midday sun, as the ancients say, although I often wonder why—but Xeon and Melia ran all the way down to the city. They are of an age to enter manhood, and have all the energy such young men do. They were aware that they stood in the midst of an unprecedented happening; indeed, an emergency. They were created so long ago, indeed, that the ignorant believe them to have been constructed by the gods themselves. Indeed, the watcher is more a tradition than a necessity. At such a time, many men feel impelled to make speeches, and one must not be disrespectful. Prayers and supplications were offered to the gods, priests were sent to sacrifice, and finally, as the light of the sun was falling between the pillars, the High Priest of the Maternite Machine was heard. Yet perhaps it is for the best, for those left were the most earnest and intelligent. Know, then, that once granted a few cells of Prelife, it is an easy matter for the Maternite Machine to add more and more; thus assuring us, as has always been, a continuous source of Prelife to be born by the Generating Machine as children. The machines bear the exact number of children each year to balance the number of us whom the gods claim. Such it has always been from time immemorial." It is at such times that I most revere the wisdom of the ancients, who decreed seventy years the minimum age for a member of the Conclave. They quieted, breathing heavily, and I asked, "Is there no way, then, to produce more Prelife in order that the machines may produce more children for us?
 They respect its truths but are nervous about its implications
 It is frightening in an exciting way, for the people to learn something new  They respect its truths but are nervous about its implications  It is an important historical text appreciated from a research perspective  It is a rare artefact of a less-understood time