“Of course one does talk. But,” and he was grave again, “one does make far too many concessions to the need to communicate.”
“What do you mean?”
“All the time when I speak to you, even now, I’m saying not precisely what I think, but what will impress you and make you respond. That’s so even between us - and how much more it’s so where there are stronger motives for deception. In fact, one’s so used to this one hardly sees it. The whole language is a machine for making falsehoods.”
“What would happen if one were to speak the truth?” I asked. “Would it be possible?”
“I know myself,” said Hugo, “that when I really speak the truth the words fall from my mouth absolutely dead, and I see complete blankness in the face of the other person.”
“So we never really communicate?”
Under the Net / Iris Murdoch
-
community788 liked this
-
backtof liked this
-
acandleandawick posted this
