Story of Your Life TED CHIANG

future, I would never act contrary to that future, including telling others what I know: those who know the
future don't talk about it. Those who've read the Book of Ages never admit to it.
I turned on the VCR and slotted a cassette of a session from the Fort Worth looking glass. A diplomatic
negotiator was having a discussion with the heptapods there, with Burghart acting as translator.
The negotiator was describing humans' moral beliefs, trying to lay some groundwork for the concept of
altruism. I knew the heptapods were familiar with the conversation's eventual outcome, but they still
participated enthusiastically.
If I could have described this to someone who didn't already know, she might ask, if the heptapods
already knew everything that they would ever say or hear, what was the point of their using language at
all? A reasonable question. But language wasn't only for communication: it was also a form of action.
According to speech act theory, statements like “You're under arrest,” “I christen this vessel,” or “I
promise” were all performative: a speaker could perform the action only by uttering the words. For such
acts, knowing what would be said didn't change anything. Everyone at a wedding anticipated the words “I
now pronounce you husband and wife,” but until the minister actually said them, the ceremony didn't
count. With performative language, saying equaled doing.
For the heptapods, all language was performative. Instead of using language to inform, they used
language to actualize. Sure, heptapods already knew what would be said in any conversation; but in order
for their knowledge to be true, the conversation would have to take place.
“First Goldilocks tried the papa bear's bowl of porridge, but it was full of brussels sprouts, which she
hated.”
You'll laugh. “No, that's wrong!” We'll be sitting side by side on the sofa, the skinny, overpriced hardcover
spread open on our laps.
I'll keep reading. “Then Goldilocks tried the mama bear's bowl of porridge, but it was full of spinach, which
she also hated.”
You'll put your hand on the page of the book to stop me. “You have to read it the right way!”
“I'm reading just what it says here,” I'll say, all innocence.
“No you're not. That's not how the story goes.”
“Well if you already know how the story goes, why do you need me to read it to you?”
“Cause I wanna hear it!”
The air conditioning in Weber's office almost compensated for having to talk to the man.
“They're willing to engage in a type of exchange,” I explained, “but it's not trade. We simply give them
something, and they give us something in return. Neither party tells the other what they're giving
beforehand.”
Colonel Weber's brow furrowed just slightly. “You mean they're willing to exchange gifts?”