Yellow flowers, evening primroses, are a recurring theme in Majestic. The walls of the crashed saucer, for example, appear to be made of waxed paper with yellow flowers pressed into it. Later, the protagonist finds himself in a hall made of the same material:
We went down a hall that was more a tunnel it was so low. I could see that it was made of paper of the same type that formed the inner walls of the ship we had found. Light came through it from the outside. The yellow flowers pressed into the paper seemed almost alive, so vividly did they glow.
Today I read this on p. 6 of The Philosopher’s Pupil:
He lifted up his head. He was in his bed in his room at home, and the daylight was showing through the curtains, present in an insubstantial pattern of yellow flowers.
Whitley and Iris! Sync makes strange bedfellows indeed.
Earlier today I looked up the etymology of pupil, wondering why the aperture of the iris should have the same name as a student. Both senses come from the Latin for “small child.” The ocular sense comes from the fact that you can see a tiny reflection of yourself, as if a miniature human being, in another person’s pupil.
As it happens, I wrote about this phenomenon back in March 2021. As it happens, it was in a post about Whitley Strieber:
You may not have all-natural mirror-shade eyes like a Gray, but your pupils are dark. They reflect. Look closely, can you see your face in there? Stare as hard as you can. You might want to get a little closer to the mirror -- closer -- careful now, don't slip!
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