CROW STATION - stone.esatclear.ie
CROW STATION - stone.esatclear.ie
CROW STATION - stone.esatclear.ie
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Introduction to <strong>CROW</strong> <strong>STATION</strong><br />
<strong>CROW</strong> <strong>STATION</strong>, the third novel of THE KINGSWOOD BLACK BOOKS – the<br />
Richard Butler tetralogy, was a work that once started did not stop until six hundred<br />
and sixty six pages had been written. Then the flood of rel<strong>ie</strong>f was indistinguishable<br />
from a flood of gr<strong>ie</strong>f. <strong>CROW</strong> <strong>STATION</strong> is the biggest of the novels. It contains pages<br />
of pure dialogue and pages of pure philosophy. It would be more accessible without<br />
the philosophy – and you can easily strip it out – but it would be a lesser work for<br />
that. <strong>CROW</strong> <strong>STATION</strong> was a gift, is a gift, proof of the reality and power of artistic<br />
inspiration<br />
If you read it, read all of it. You won‘t be sorry.<br />
<strong>CROW</strong> <strong>STATION</strong>: a Summary.<br />
1985 is a cool wet summer. Dan White and his wife, Charlotte, have a new son, their<br />
first. Dan is using the summer vacation to prepare one of those obscure endowed<br />
Memorial Lectures that the older universit<strong>ie</strong>s have accrued over the centur<strong>ie</strong>s. He is<br />
also intrigued by his discovery that the Cold War is coming to Ireland in a big way,<br />
con trails up and down its east and west coasts indicating the kind of edgy<br />
manoeuvring that could easily slip out of control.<br />
But they are happy, excepting perhaps Charlotte‘s tendency to agonise over her son‘s<br />
impending loss of innocence. Then Charlotte‘s mother is killed in an apparently<br />
senseless motor accident and both their lives seem suddenly to change, a switch in<br />
levels, as it were, rather than in direction. Charlotte becomes a mother without a<br />
mother, a disturbing situation for her which presses her with the question of what she<br />
is, child or parent. Dan, for his part, remembers the demise of his own parents, but<br />
also acquires a research student with a disturbing take on gender politics and some<br />
unwelcome attention for his Cold War theory. Then both Dan and Charlotte discover<br />
that they do not know how to mourn, that they cannot comprehend death and its effect<br />
on them. So they counter death and a funeral with a birth and a pre-christening party,<br />
inviting the mourners to celebrate their son‘s birth.<br />
Richard Butler returns to Dublin to climb a mountain while awaiting his publisher‘s<br />
decision about his latest offering. He is drawn into the circle of a widow and her<br />
boisterous teenage daughters, an invitation to become a father without the discomfort<br />
of fathering. He is also drawn into the ménage about Dan and Charlotte. And as<br />
Richard ascends his mountain to encounter its resident spirit and answer its very<br />
pertinent question, Charlotte ascends to her bedroom to restore her mother while Dan<br />
finds himself drawn by his research into arcane thoughts that offer him a kind of<br />
salvation too.<br />
2
<strong>CROW</strong> <strong>STATION</strong><br />
PHILIP MATTHEWS<br />
© Philip Matthews 1986<br />
3
“Where are you going, Charon? To the Crows themselves?”<br />
“Of course, divine Dionysus. Where else would you be going? Get in now.”<br />
Aristophanes, The Frogs<br />
4
I<br />
5
is it, Dan?<br />
There. No. There. Near the bathing place. At Sorrento.<br />
Where? I can‘t see...<br />
It‘s black. Underwater... Ah. It‘s gone.<br />
What was it?<br />
Not a man.<br />
Why not a woman, Dan?<br />
No... A seal, I think. Nothing else that big in these waters.<br />
A seal? Here?<br />
Why not, Charley?<br />
Are you sure, Dan? A seal?<br />
Too big for a fish. Too fast for a man. Or a woman... I think it was a seal.<br />
A seal! Oh I‘m sorry I didn‘t see it.<br />
There wasn‘t much to see, Charley. It was diving when I saw it.<br />
Are you sure it was a seal?<br />
What else could it be?<br />
Perhaps a shadow on the water.<br />
No. There‘s no sun today. Too cloudy. It was some kind of creature.<br />
But a seal, Dan?<br />
Oh does it really matter, Charley?<br />
But you say you saw it, Dan!<br />
I saw something large, black, diving in the water. I... It‘s not important,<br />
Charley. It was gone in a flash... Let‘s walk on.<br />
But you saw it, Dan! You‘re always seeing things I don‘t notice.<br />
And you never bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me when I tell you, Charley.<br />
It was good of you to look after Brian, Alice.<br />
Ha. He was as good as gold, Dan. He slept the whole afternoon... It‘s good for<br />
you and Lotty to get out together for a while... Did you have a nice walk?<br />
The air was clear. But no sun...<br />
You both look the better for it, Dan. Especially Lotty.<br />
She still looks peaky...<br />
The birth was...<br />
Women today are not prepared for it. They don‘t realise what is involved...<br />
The prenatal course...<br />
Theory, theory, Dan. The reality is always different... Mother always said it<br />
wasn‘t natural...<br />
Of course it‘s natural, Alice...<br />
You can‘t know what it is like, Dan. You are a man... I was fifteen hours in<br />
labour with Lotty. The pain...<br />
But that‘s the way it is, Alice...<br />
That is not the point, Dan. The pain. The way one‘s body is distorted... That is<br />
not natural...<br />
You mean it‘s not dignif<strong>ie</strong>d, Alice...<br />
I‘m not talking about dignity, Dan. Leave that to clergymen and professors... I<br />
mean that a woman is taken over by a foreign mechanism. One‘s body swells. You<br />
6
lose concentration. Then at the end the woman is on her back, her legs open... Her<br />
insides are gaping... No man has to endure that, Dan...<br />
Perhaps analogically, Alice. A man...<br />
Not the body, Dan!... The body... Men don‘t know the vulnerability of the<br />
woman. She has no refuge...<br />
Oh it‘s not that bad, Alice. Women have been bearing children for...<br />
I‘m not talking about the nature of woman, Dan. We can do nothing about<br />
that... But the effect on the individual woman. That‘s the important thing. What sort<br />
of human being it makes her... Look, Dan. You are a nice, considerate man, and I am<br />
glad Lotty has you for a husband. But you cannot know what it is like to be a woman.<br />
A woman is like a circle that never closes. She wants to see herself as whole, but her<br />
body constantly betrays her...<br />
Is that why Charley cut her hair?<br />
What?<br />
Charley cut her hair when she came back from the nursing home. Why did she<br />
do that?<br />
Oh it will grow again, Dan. It‘s only a phase she is...<br />
No... She‘ll keep it short. She‘s said as much.<br />
Then... Perhaps...<br />
It was beautiful, Alice. It...<br />
Yes... Yes...<br />
... graced her. It...<br />
Oh yes, Dan. She was such a perfect child. Her hair was long and bright... Her<br />
father loved it so. He...<br />
It‘s some kind of punishment, Alice... I can‘t persuade her to let it grow again.<br />
I...<br />
The last thing Victor did was to stroke her hair... He... I think he thought she<br />
was an angel, Dan. When she sang...<br />
But why did she cut it, Alice? You‘re a woman. You tell me.<br />
Perhaps what they call postnatal depression, Dan. Perhaps she feels... well...<br />
sull<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
It wasn‘t that bad, Alice. I was with her all the time. She was cheerful, even<br />
elated, afterwards... I was happy more for her than for myself... Now she‘s...<br />
Give her time to recover, Dan. Be pat<strong>ie</strong>nt... She‘ll pick up...<br />
Yes. But she worr<strong>ie</strong>s me... Alice, she seems to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve she‘s totally<br />
inadequate... I can‘t persuade her to change her...<br />
It‘s the mood... She‘ll get over it, Dan. We all do... I did...<br />
But you...<br />
Dan! Stop fretting... I‘m sorry... I‘m upset too. It‘s... it‘s... I felt blissful here<br />
alone with Brian. But now I remember the other thing... The strangeness, I mean...<br />
Dan, a mother always feels that a part of her is outside... It makes the world seem a<br />
very strange place... You don‘t know what I mean...<br />
Will you have some tea, Alice?<br />
No... No... I‘ll go now... I am going out this evening... Lotty is resting. She has<br />
fed Brian... I‘ll go now... Don‘t fret, Dan... Here. Give me a kiss... There... You are a<br />
sweet man in your own way. But don‘t fret so... You only add to the upset... Get on<br />
with your work... That paper or whatever it is... Concentrate on that... I‘ll go now...<br />
Goodbye...<br />
Goodbye, Alice. Thanks again for...<br />
Anytime, Dan. Just call me. Tell Lotty to ring me tomorrow... Bye... See you...<br />
7
Yes...<br />
1. Language does not ‗leak‘. (?)<br />
2. For us, language has no origins. A given language impl<strong>ie</strong>s a given world. As<br />
such, language is complete. Historical stud<strong>ie</strong>s of language are extensions of<br />
the here and now language world: history is always situated in the present.<br />
3. The question, ‗What is a horse?‘, is not a real question. Being able to ask it<br />
indicates the ability to use the word ‗horse‘, and impl<strong>ie</strong>s knowledge of ‗a‘<br />
meaning of it. But there is an exception here, perhaps: when the word is<br />
encountered for the first time in reading or conversation, say by a child. The<br />
answer here will be either (1) extremely general, so as to connect with the<br />
knowledge (language) the child already possesses – say ‗A horse is an<br />
animal.‘, or (2) to indicate an actual horse or show a picture of one. But while<br />
(1) is a kind of ‗translation‘, which is finally either circular or tautological, (2)<br />
would be finally inadequate, for a number of reasons.<br />
(A) While the child could grasp a sense of the meaning of the word, it is<br />
possible that it could forget this representation while not forgetting the word,<br />
or vice versa. Thus this empirical link is not integral to the use of the word.<br />
Admittedly, repeated relatings of the object or image to the word would fix the<br />
link. But the point is that a mere connection between a word and a<br />
representative object or image would not of itself enable the child to use the<br />
word. It would only be a useful referent which would save the child the<br />
trouble of carrying about with him the actual object or an image of it and<br />
which he could produce and indicate when he wished to make reference to<br />
‗horse‘.<br />
(B) In any case, an individual example of what ‗a horse‘ is could not<br />
exhaustively ‗mean‘ the word, for then how could it be used to refer to other<br />
objects or examples usually also called ‗horse‘? There is then an abstract idea<br />
of ‗horse‘ involved, an idea or type which the individual example or object is<br />
not in itself. Here for example an object serves merely to give an instance of<br />
what kind of object forms the referent of the idea. What happens then is that<br />
three apparently separate elements are brought together in a particular way: (1)<br />
a word, ‗horse‘; (2) an idea, ‗horse‘; and (3) an object sensuously perceived,<br />
named ‗horse‘. To the extent that (3) is dependent on (1), the significant<br />
element must be (1) or (2). But nowhere does the idea of ‗horse‘ appear<br />
independently of the word. Thus (1) and (2) are related; in fact, (2) is an<br />
abstraction from (1); an abstraction, moreover, which only appears upon<br />
reflection, which is induced by the awareness of the problem of the relation<br />
between the word and the object to which it is said to refer. It appears then that<br />
the word is self-referring in this sense: while some kind of perception of a<br />
referent, or, as the case may be, a translation of a word, is necessary in order to<br />
know what the word ‗means‘ in a practical way, some element is supersensuous,<br />
something like the word itself, which is crucially required and<br />
which cannot be reduced to sense perception. For the essence of the word does<br />
not l<strong>ie</strong> in the perception of its referent, but in its significance, which calls out<br />
for elucidation, while not being reduced to this elucidation, for the elucidation<br />
itself does not invest the word with significance. Significance, then, resides in<br />
the word as a kind of potentia, that is, it is ‗virtual‘.<br />
Now, this virtual significance is brought out when one realises that the<br />
8
proper question is not ‗What is a horse?‘, but ‗What is the horse?‘<br />
Have you finished for tonight?<br />
Yes. Just now.<br />
Good. I‘m hungry. It must have been the air today... Is this for the paper?<br />
I think so... But...<br />
You‘ve got a lot of notes... You‘re always so thorough... You were like that...<br />
This seems to be different, Charley. Each time I try to put down a sentence, it<br />
grows and grows... I don‘t know what it‘s leading to...<br />
That‘s why Professor Dodgeson asked you. You‘re interested in ideas... The<br />
lecture must be on the history of ideas...<br />
But I‘m not an historian, Charley... This is under the auspices of the History<br />
Department... Dodgeson knows I‘m not interested in...<br />
But he asked you, Dan. You should trust his judgement.<br />
It‘s not that simple, Charley. I don‘t like Dodgeson. You know that. And he<br />
knows it... He‘s playing one of his little political games again...<br />
But he left you free to choose the subject, Dan. You can write on what you<br />
like...<br />
Yes... yes... So it seems... But look, Charley. Think what that impl<strong>ie</strong>s. It‘s not<br />
just a question of subject matter. There‘s also the question of method... I‘m not a<br />
primary source fetishist. You know, obscure quotations and bibliographical references<br />
culled from the Old Library... That‘s what he expects... He wants a pedantic<br />
monograph on some obscure work or minor dissenter from the sixteenth or<br />
seventeenth century. He expects me to dig in the Old Library for that sort of junk...<br />
But it will be published, Dan. That‘s part of the conditions of the bequest...<br />
So what, Charley? That kind of thing is just not important.<br />
Oh. You should have gone to Cambridge, Dan. You would have been more in<br />
the centre of things there...<br />
Hhh!... It wouldn‘t have been much different there... It‘s not the place that<br />
counts, Charley... It‘s... it‘s...<br />
Don‘t get so intense, Dan. I‘m trying to help... I know this is demanding... You<br />
always get so worked up about...<br />
It‘s not that, Charley... Let‘s go and eat... The paper will sort itself out in time.<br />
They usually do... It‘s just that this time everything seems so open...<br />
What do you want to eat?<br />
I‘m not fussy... Whatever you want to cook... Do you want me to do it?<br />
No... I feel rested...<br />
Alice said you were asleep...<br />
I don‘t seem to be able to break this dreamy state... Each time I feed Brian all I<br />
want to do is sleep sleep... I‘m a milk factory now. First I was a baby factory, now<br />
I‘m a milk factory... My body has taken me over... I...<br />
Brian still bites you...<br />
How do you know? I...<br />
Your nipple. The right one... It‘s distended...<br />
The... uh... It‘s so sore... I‘ll get mastitis... Christine had to be treated...<br />
I‘ve told you... You don‘t have to breastfeed him... The substitute feeds are...<br />
It‘s only a fashion... Our mothers bel<strong>ie</strong>ved bottle feeding was health<strong>ie</strong>r...<br />
9
It was only because they wanted to keep their figures... To keep their husbands<br />
happy... But Brian bites like a... It‘s not just hunger, Dan. He does it all the time...<br />
You don‘t have to suffer it, Charley... You could do something about it... You<br />
come and make me feel guilty for...<br />
Oh no... Is that how it seems?.. Perhaps I should say nothing about it then.<br />
Keep it to... But you brought it up, Dan...<br />
I could see from the way you move that your breasts were hurting you... I<br />
don‘t like to see you suffer unnecessarily... It was bad enough towards the end of the<br />
pregnancy. That was unavoidable. But to endure this unnecessarily, Charley. That<br />
borders on masochism, you know.<br />
Masochism! You mean the poor woman punishing herself for her inadequacy.<br />
Because she lacks...<br />
No! I mean a wilful indulgence, Charley. Not a Freudian sense of lack... You<br />
mean it as a reproof for the pain of birth...<br />
Against you, you mean, do you, Dan?<br />
No! Not just against me... Against... against yourself as well... Against both of<br />
us... Against our... And also because it‘s a fashion to endure all this... this pregnancy,<br />
birth, feeding, cleaning... The whole chore... I‘ve heard you comparing notes on the<br />
phone... It‘s so inward turned, Charley. Do you know that?<br />
Masochism! Inward turned! What else, Dan?.. It‘s not a neurosis, if that is<br />
what you are implying... It‘s real, Dan. It‘s the single-most real thing in the world...<br />
Think about it, Dan... All human activity is geared towards that...<br />
Survival... Charley... That‘s just...<br />
Not evolution. Or the spec<strong>ie</strong>s, Dan... I mean sex, bondage, drudgery... And the<br />
whole Freudian thing. Oedipus and phalluses and the rest... It all comes down to<br />
birth... Think about it... It‘s real... Real...<br />
Real? But it‘s unavoidable... How can it be...<br />
Yes. Real... You don‘t know what I mean, Dan. You‘re not a woman... But it<br />
is real, real... Will you come and sit down... It‘s ready.<br />
Yes... No. Not tea. I‘m high enough... Juice... I‘ll get it...<br />
Do you see what I mean about it being real? I know I shouldn‘t use that<br />
word... But... How can I put it, Dan?.. It‘s there... The child is there now...<br />
Do you feel it negates... den<strong>ie</strong>s... or whatever... you? Is that what it is?<br />
Deny? You mean take the place of me? That would mean that I suffer so as to<br />
confirm my own reality... Is that what you think, Dan?<br />
No... no... I was only asking a question... It‘s because you emphasise the baby<br />
rather than yourself... Or you and the baby... you know... mother and child... like...<br />
Jesus?<br />
No... I wasn‘t being specific... Like... like the image, I suppose... In art and...<br />
yes... and in religion... The Madonna and child... Isis...<br />
But all that is from the outside, Dan...<br />
But those images are not for men... They‘re...<br />
They are! The child is a boy... Always... Mother and son. Never mother and<br />
daughter... No daughters, Dan... Only...<br />
Women are never children... Yes... And men are only boys with horns... Is that<br />
Shakespeare?<br />
I don‘t know... But... Mother had no sons, only a daughter... me... And...<br />
And?...<br />
She coddled daddy... She... The... No... That‘s off the mark... My point is that<br />
being a mother puts one inside the image, as it were... Do you see, Dan? Only the<br />
10
child...<br />
Son...<br />
Okay, son... The son is the reality... But I didn‘t mean that... You...<br />
I only asked if you felt negated... den<strong>ie</strong>d... If you found your reality in your<br />
child...<br />
No! I... Do you want some yoghurt? There‘s some... One... We must make...<br />
Sure... Whose turn is it?<br />
Yours, I think.<br />
I‘ll make it when we‘ve finished eating... But... Alice said...<br />
What did she say?.. I heard her talking to you... She seemed excited... She<br />
treats you like a son... She dotes...<br />
I‘m your husband, Charley... She bel<strong>ie</strong>ves she must keep me sweet...<br />
Ugh... Don‘t put it like that, Dan... She‘s not a fool just because... No... She<br />
does dote on you... She competes with me...<br />
Don‘t be silly... Charley... She‘s thirty years older than me...<br />
Well preserved... She looks after herself... She‘s kept her figure... Compared<br />
with me... What was she saying?<br />
Oh, different things... I can hardly remember... She...<br />
About me? She told you not to worry about me, didn‘t she?<br />
Were you listening?<br />
No... I fell asleep... Brian drains me...<br />
Yes. She told me not to fret about you... You...<br />
Did she tell you what to do instead?<br />
What? Did she? I think she was trying to help, Charley... She told me to<br />
concentrate on that paper.<br />
Ha. She‘s proud of you, Dan... A real intellectual in the family now... I...<br />
Someone she can talk to... She thinks you understand her...<br />
It sounds incestuous.<br />
No. Oedipal... What we said before... She... Oh she can‘t help it...<br />
But she‘s not lonely... There‘s Tom Spencer... And...<br />
You don‘t understand, Dan... I... She competes...<br />
It‘s harmless, Charley...<br />
Yes... But aggravating... She...<br />
It is harmless, I tell you... It‘s trivial...<br />
What else did she say?<br />
Oh... I can‘t remember... She said... She talked about the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of<br />
motherhood...<br />
What did she say?.. Did she boast?.. Trying to prove that she...<br />
No... On the contrary... She said it was unnatural and demeaning... Yes...<br />
Unnatural? But she... You mean she put it down?<br />
No... Not put it down... She accepts motherhood... It‘s just that the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce<br />
is so...<br />
Why did she say that? I always thought she approved...<br />
She didn‘t say it... I mean... She said her own mother... your grandmother...<br />
had said it...<br />
Grandmother? Oh of course she did... She spent her life in Italy... The last of<br />
the high-living Richards... She... But why did mother say it anyway? Why did she<br />
take that attitude?.. She meant...<br />
No, Charley... She‘s worr<strong>ie</strong>d about you... You‘ve been so down since Brian<br />
was born...<br />
11
I have not! Is that how you see me? Postnatal depression and all that... Poor<br />
moping woman... Can‘t handle the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... I...<br />
Oh stop it, Charley... No one is saying that... You...<br />
I told you... I‘m a milk factory... with sore nipples... Brian is cutting his teeth<br />
on me.<br />
Not yet... I mean he‘s only...<br />
I‘m joking, Dan... I... I feel so jaded all the time...<br />
Your hair... She... Alice...<br />
It‘s tid<strong>ie</strong>r as it is, Dan... I told you...<br />
Will you let it grow again?<br />
I don‘t know... I just... Oh I just don‘t care...<br />
Don‘t upset yourself, Charley... It‘s not that important... You do...<br />
The perfect angel with the long bright hair... Did she say that?<br />
How did you... You were listening...<br />
No, Dan. I know my mother... She wants me to remain a child... I remind her<br />
of... when I was young... and daddy... he...<br />
Yes... Okay... I understand... Charley... Brian‘s birth has changed so much, I<br />
suppose... I‘m beginning to relive my own childhood... It‘s like a new beginning...<br />
Yes. Every time... It‘s like starting again... But we are parents now, Dan. It<br />
can‘t be the same... It has to be different... Where are you going?<br />
Oh... I just feel...<br />
The Bible? You‘re not...<br />
No... It‘s something my grandfather in Waterford used to do... Not strictly<br />
the... no... very fundamentalist... It is supposed to be the Holy Book. He bel<strong>ie</strong>ved it<br />
had powers... I‘ll show you... But don‘t mock...<br />
I know... I‘ve heard of it... Divining... You‘re going to use it as an oracle... I<br />
didn‘t know you...<br />
Only at certain times, Charley... I did it when my parents were killed... When I<br />
feel... empty...<br />
Now? But why, Dan? Did I upset you?.. I didn‘t mean to... I should keep my<br />
moods to myself...<br />
Not you... Parenthood, Charley... The two of us... You and I, sweetheart...<br />
between us and Brian... Now... Close your eyes... Think of nothing... Now...<br />
Yes... Oh... Dan... Wel1? What is it?... Read it out... I‘m... I‘m tingling all<br />
over...<br />
Okay... This is the verse my finger indicated... And I have also given thee that<br />
which thou hast not asked, both riches and honour... so that there shall not be any<br />
among the kings like unto thee all thy days.<br />
And?.. Go on, Dan... Go on...<br />
But that‘s all, Charley... That‘s the verse I touched...<br />
I know. But read the next one.<br />
Okay... And if thou wilt walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and my<br />
commandments, as thy father David did walk, then I will lengthen thy days.<br />
David... King David... Who...<br />
Solomon... He prayed for understanding in a dream and...<br />
Read it all, Dan... Do... I‘m curious.<br />
But don‘t take it too much to heart, Charley... It‘s a kind of superstition...<br />
But your grandfather bel<strong>ie</strong>ved it, Dan...<br />
He was just a farmer, Charley... Very low church... You know the sort...<br />
Earnest...<br />
12
So what, Dan? If he was good... then... But read it... Read me the dream...<br />
Okay... It‘ll do no harm... Solomon asks God for understanding... Now... And<br />
the speech pleased the Lord, that Solomon had asked this thing. And God said unto<br />
him, Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life,<br />
neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thine enem<strong>ie</strong>s, but hast<br />
asked for thyself understanding to discern judgment. Behold, I have done according to<br />
thy words, lo, I have given thee a wise and an understanding heart, so that there was<br />
none like thee before thee, neither after thee should any arise like unto thee. And I<br />
have also given thee that which thou hast not asked, both riches, and honours, so that<br />
there shall not be any among the kings like unto thee all thy days. And if thou wilt<br />
walk in my ways, to keep my statutes and my commandments, as thy father David did<br />
walk, then I will lengthen thy days.<br />
Beautiful... Dan... It‘s exciting... It‘s eer<strong>ie</strong>... understanding, wisdom... That‘s<br />
for you, Dan.<br />
But I indicated only one of those verses, Charley... About getting what was not<br />
asked for...<br />
Even so... Long life and riches...<br />
I didn‘t ask for anything... Except...<br />
What?<br />
Guidance...<br />
And...<br />
I don‘t know... At least I‘m not sure... It‘s very oblique...<br />
But it‘s weird, Dan... It‘s so relevant... and... yet... Yes... I see what you<br />
mean... If you don‘t think about it, it seems significant... If you do, then it seems<br />
enigmatic... I suppose oracles are like that... Like...<br />
Like another language... Yes... No... Meaning... yes... Point of v<strong>ie</strong>w...<br />
Ordinarily, the verses say something... Solomon‘s dream... But as an answer to<br />
another kind of enquiry, they... They‘re... Charley... They still seem meaningful...<br />
And... No... It wasn‘t serious...<br />
But you did say not to be playful... I concentrated, Dan, as you said I should...<br />
What did you ask for?<br />
Nothing, Dan... I empt<strong>ie</strong>d my mind... You told me to... But...<br />
Something persisted?<br />
Yes... I could not stop seeing Brian with his little mouth open and his shiny<br />
gums ready to bite me... I was...<br />
Long life and riches?<br />
What? Oh yes... Perhaps that... It‘s appropriate, isn‘t it?<br />
Mmm... You‘re taking it much more seriously than I expected... You asked...<br />
No... It was against my will... Honestly...<br />
Hey... It‘s alright, Charley... It‘s done now... Let‘s forget it.<br />
But...<br />
I‘ll make the yoghurt... Turn on the tele... Perhaps there‘s a film.<br />
No... I‘ll read... I‘ll...<br />
Let it go, sweetheart.<br />
I‘ll go to bed... I feel so... Oh...<br />
So soon... You slept this evening.<br />
I‘ve got to get up to feed Brian at three.<br />
Such a labour, Charley... You don‘t have to do all this...<br />
No! Don‘t... don‘t, Dan... I know... I don‘t have to do anything... But I‘m<br />
doing this.<br />
13
way.<br />
Yes... That‘s okay.<br />
Come up when you‘re ready... Dan. It‘s alright... Try to... I want to do it this<br />
Yes. Okay then... I‘ll... Goodnight, Charley.<br />
Goodnight, darling.<br />
It is possible for a child to learn how to use the word ‗horse‘ without<br />
ever seeing one. More generally, it is possible for anyone to learn how to use a<br />
language without having a reference-world at all. In fact, the proper use of<br />
language could not be ach<strong>ie</strong>ved by sensuous reference alone. No actual horse<br />
is both mare and stallion, roan and p<strong>ie</strong>bald, whereas these are attributes of the<br />
word ‗horse‘. Once again, ‗the horse‘ is at the centre of the use of the word<br />
‗horse‘. What is the status of ‗the horse‘? It cannot be represented, though its<br />
attributes could be listed (all of them?). It is virtual – but in what way?<br />
Of all users of language, it is the historian who perhaps most clearly<br />
demonstrates this point, that language can be used without a sensuous<br />
reference-world. (Historians rather than philosophers or theologians because<br />
the reference-worlds of the latter are abstract to begin with; only the historian<br />
presumes to use language to refer to actual worlds which by definition cannot<br />
be perceived.) Thus the worlds of the historian are virtual, though perhaps not<br />
precisely as meanings are virtual – yes – the historian‘s worlds are virtual by<br />
virtue of the fact that the essential meanings/references of words are virtual.<br />
Thus:<br />
1. historiography is linguistic<br />
2. historical worlds are ‗present‘ worlds, not ‗past‘ worlds – they are virtual<br />
worlds.<br />
Consider next: if some core of the word is virtual, does this mean that<br />
language itself is virtual? (Best way to analyse this is by examining the<br />
relations between words.)<br />
Dan?<br />
You‘re awake?<br />
Yes, I‘ve been dozing... Dreaming... Thinking.<br />
It‘s a strange state.<br />
Sh... You‘ll waken him... I... I feel I‘m everywhere... I think of things I<br />
couldn‘t describe... so tenuous... complicated... I...<br />
Hypnogogic I think they call it... It can be very sweet...<br />
But... The seal... Did you really see a seal today?<br />
Today?<br />
I keep thinking or dreaming of your seal... It goes down and down... It‘s black<br />
and shiny and sleek... It dives down all the time... I... I should be frightened... But...<br />
all I want is for it to get to the bottom... not to stop diving just... no... but to get to the<br />
bottom... Was there a seal, Dan?<br />
Oh... It wasn‘t a man... It dived too fast and too deep... Mmm... I told you<br />
that... Not a fish... Not a dolphin or a porpoise... Mmm... Not in these waters... It<br />
14
could only be a seal... Charley.<br />
Yes. I remember that. But... it might have been just a shadow... you know, a<br />
trick of light and shadow.<br />
There was no sun and the sea was calm... I was only trying to describe what I<br />
saw... If you had seen it for yourself.<br />
But, Dan... The trails... I‘ve seen them... But...<br />
Ah! Is that it? It‘s not what I see, then... It‘s what I say I see... Is that it?<br />
No... but... Dan... The seal is one thing... That‘s... If I had seen it I might have<br />
agreed... Anyway I like to think it was a seal... It stimulates my... well... this dream<br />
state... But the trails... Dan, you have absolutely no proof for that and... it‘s not<br />
trivial... You should be careful.<br />
I‘ve said nothing to anybody but you, Charley... I was trying to find a reason<br />
for them that day... That was the explanation I found... I know... it‘s monstrous. But...<br />
I don‘t know. It‘s the explanation that jumped into my mind... They don‘t make sense<br />
otherwise...<br />
But there‘s been nothing on the news... not even the bee bee cee... They‘d...<br />
Why, Charley? It goes on in the North Sea and the Atlantic all the time...<br />
Perhaps even in the Mediterranean... Goodness knows where else... Why not here?<br />
It‘s strategic...<br />
Perhaps you should make enquir<strong>ie</strong>s, Dan... You‘re in politics... Surely you<br />
know someone.<br />
Hhh! Politicians and political sc<strong>ie</strong>ntists live in separate universes in this<br />
country, Charley... No... I don‘t know...<br />
Not a politician... someone who could have access to knowledge – informal<br />
knowledge – you know – gossip... like.<br />
Yes. You‘re right... I‘ll try to think of someone...<br />
I wouldn‘t like you to... I mean if you were wrong... You could get obsessed<br />
with something like that... conspirac<strong>ie</strong>s... There‘s enough paranoia as it is here... you<br />
know... I‘d hate to see...<br />
I‘m not obsessed, Charley... You‘re the one who brought it up, not me... It was<br />
just a thought... because... The trails are unusual – too high. Yes... Ah...<br />
What is it?<br />
There is one thing... According to my... hypothesis... yes... on the western<br />
seaboard...<br />
What? What are you talking about?<br />
Do we know anyone in the West, Charley? Lives there or holidays?<br />
The West?<br />
Yes. Anywhere along the West coast... There must be someone.<br />
The Jacksons... Keith Jackson... His mother. The Williams place...<br />
Not Keith... He wouldn‘t catch on to it... No cop... No. Someone who would<br />
just do it...<br />
Sympathetic, you mean?<br />
Something like that... Oh, we‘ll sleep on it... There‘s no hurry... It won‘t make<br />
much difference anyway.<br />
Don‘t be fatalistic, Dan. That‘s not like you... If you‘re right... God... What if<br />
you were right, Dan?<br />
What if I were?<br />
You‘d have to tell someone... The papers... Give them your evidence...<br />
If I‘m right then everyone who‘s anyone already knows.<br />
But not to do anything about it, Dan?<br />
15
Perhaps they can‘t do anything...<br />
No... make them make it public... That can be done... public opinion... Find<br />
out what‘s going on...<br />
Everyone knows what‘s going on, Charley. It‘s not that... It‘s built in... a kind<br />
of boundary...<br />
But it‘s exposed here... They can‘t do anything...<br />
Hush... Not that isolated... Don‘t worry about that, Charley... There‘s always<br />
been something... There‘s always the enemy...<br />
Enemy? What do you mean, Dan? War? But...<br />
No. I‘m speaking generally... Like... Alice said today that a mother finds the<br />
outside world strange. Because part of her is out there. Separated from herself...<br />
Perhaps that‘s how you feel, Charley... And me... Brian is...<br />
Brian? He‘s asleep... Yes... Oh yes... I see now... Did mother really say that?<br />
How perceptive of her... I always thought she was stupid, Dan. Too loud... Playing her<br />
widow charms... But...<br />
She talks from her exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... She‘s not as educated as you. Is she?<br />
No... Her childhood was... They moved from place to place... I think she<br />
wanted to be like her mother...<br />
Well, she can make good sense of her exper<strong>ie</strong>nce...<br />
She tr<strong>ie</strong>d to be the soc<strong>ie</strong>ty girl... But the war... They had to come back... There<br />
wasn‘t much here... Sold<strong>ie</strong>rs and that... on leave. Daddy was in the navy... Always<br />
projecting herself... Daddy was qu<strong>ie</strong>ter... He... The difference, you see... He would<br />
have gone into business anyway...<br />
A romantic... The high life on mortgaged land... The Riv<strong>ie</strong>ra...<br />
No... Anne Purley is the same... Her father is only a...<br />
The last waves... Imitators... Self-conscious... It happens elsewhere now...<br />
Texas... Capital not land...<br />
But she could rise to the occasion, Dan... Style, I suppose... Like mother... I<br />
env<strong>ie</strong>d her... Remember... There was a group... Mike, Dermot and Alan from Law,<br />
Isabella and Tom, Anne...<br />
That was only one group, Charley. There were others. The theatrical group.<br />
The pub groups. Music. Rugby... Your academic group, around the Cliffords. And the<br />
med<strong>ie</strong>val group...<br />
They were different, Dan... They didn‘t have flair... Anyway your crowd was<br />
peculiar... Coffee shop intellectuals... All male too... Drinking part<strong>ie</strong>s... What is it?<br />
Got it! The very man... Tony...<br />
What? What are you talking about?<br />
The West... His family have a holiday place in... it‘s on the west coast<br />
anyway... I wonder if he still goes down there? He‘d do it, I know.<br />
Do what, Dan? What on earth are you talking about?<br />
Check for trails, Charley. Tony would do that without asking too many<br />
questions... I‘ll ask him.<br />
Are you serious? You hardly see him at all now... He may have changed...<br />
Settled down...<br />
No... I saw him last year. Remember? He is in the civil service... Hey... He<br />
might have heard something... He might have... You wouldn‘t know.<br />
L<strong>ie</strong> down... You‘ll waken him.<br />
Yes. Tony Hackett. I wonder what he‘ll make of it, Charley... He‘ll laugh...<br />
but it‘ll get to him. I know him...<br />
Hush, Dan...<br />
16
He‘s the very man, Charley. I‘ll tell him what to look for... They‘ll be offshore<br />
and high. North south... He‘ll know how to estimate...<br />
Dan, be careful what you tell him. Don‘t have him think you‘re mad... Better<br />
not to tell him too much... Just what to look for...<br />
Yes, yes. I know Tony well enough... It‘ll amuse him...<br />
But be careful. You‘re not students anymore... He may have changed. He‘s a<br />
civil servant. That will make him cautious.<br />
Perhaps, Charley. But he‘s still the best bet... I‘ll get good circumstantial<br />
evidence... Then...<br />
Let that wait, Dan... Go to sleep now... You have your paper. Remember...<br />
That‘s a more important problem... Go to sleep...<br />
Yes. You‘re right... Still, Charley. The prospect of doing something about it...<br />
it makes me feel clearer... Obviously it‘s been on my mind since then...<br />
Good night, Dan... I‘ve got to get up in three hours time...<br />
Of course, sweetheart...<br />
Kiss me, Dan...<br />
Yes...<br />
Uh...<br />
Sorry... Your breast... I forgot...<br />
It‘s alright... They‘re sensitive...<br />
And full... Charley...<br />
No, Dan... Not yet... Don‘t... I...<br />
On your side... I won‘t hurt you, sweetheart...<br />
Oh... Don‘t ... Uh ...<br />
Sweetheart... Sweetheart...<br />
Be careful... I haven‘t...<br />
I know... Now...<br />
Ah... Ah...<br />
Thanks, sweetheart... Hhh...<br />
Mm... Ah...<br />
See? So gentle... So... Hhh...<br />
Mm... I... Oh...<br />
Like cats, Charley... Ever see cats? Doesn‘t always have to be doggy.<br />
Hmm... Put it that way... uncoiling... That‘s it...<br />
That‘s what, sweetheart?<br />
I feel as though I‘m uncoiling... I‘d forgotten... Oh. Yes...<br />
Go to sleep now... It‘s alright now...<br />
Yes... Dan...<br />
Mm?<br />
The seal.<br />
What about it?<br />
I know why... why I felt frustrated about it... about not seeing it, I mean.<br />
Why?<br />
It seemed so compelling... Like a sign.<br />
A sign? You mean something divine?<br />
Oh no... Not that... Something you felt compelled to show me... Something<br />
profound... to explain some deep thing about... the birth... Brian... Oh... Do you<br />
17
understand that, Dan?<br />
Mmmm...<br />
Dan... Oh Dan... Oh... You‘re asleep...<br />
MONDAY<br />
Professor White... Professor...<br />
Oh... Hello... Miss Hungen... Is it time?<br />
Oh... Very nearly... It‘s... it‘s ten fifty... I was on my way to your office...<br />
Yes... So am I... We can walk there together, then... Mm?<br />
Uh... Sure... I... Professor... I have the... it‘s...<br />
So I see... Yes... Thanks.<br />
It‘s not what I... I mean... I‘d like to talk to you about it, Professor. I...<br />
Oh... You went to the trouble of typing it... Well... that helps... you know...<br />
Handwriting is very... can be idiosyncratic...<br />
It‘s very long, Professor... I really...<br />
Hold on... Mm... I did lock it... Will you hold this for a moment... No... Your<br />
paper... I want to get my keys... Ah... Now... Come in. I. Ah. Yes. Sit down. Yes...<br />
There. That‘s it... Now...<br />
I... Professor... I...<br />
Let me see... Yes... Thanks... Ah!... The problem of sexual gratification for<br />
natural man... This is...<br />
I want to explain that, Professor... I‘ve had such problems with... Really,<br />
though...<br />
Your paper... It will explain itself, surely, Miss... eh... Hungen... I...<br />
Yes, of course... Professor... But I...<br />
It‘s doctor, Miss Hungen. If you must... I‘m only a lecturer... It‘s different<br />
here, you see... But...<br />
Oh, I keep forgetting, Pr... Doctor White... In the States everyone in college is<br />
called professor...<br />
Like Germany... But in the British Isles a professorship is a distinct... eh...<br />
position... It‘s supposed to... well... Heads of Departments and a kind of token of...<br />
distinction...<br />
Oh, I am sorry! Really I am... But habit... I...<br />
Yes... flattering... But never mind...<br />
I am sorry, Doctor White! It is different... I...<br />
It‘s alright... Don‘t worry about it... Now... Your paper... sexual gratification...<br />
I can explain, Doctor White... Really... I know I said I‘d write on his idea of<br />
forcing people to be free but... That‘s right? Yes... But the State, Doctor White, it... it<br />
really takes the place of nature as ... Well, doesn‘t it?<br />
Interesting... But beware of pushing labels around... For Rousseau, it would<br />
seem... and also for some others... the loss of the natural is irreversible... Besides... he<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ved the State... as such... was superior to nature... But go on anyway.<br />
Okay... What I want to say is this, Doctor. It takes the place of nature in this<br />
18
way. It becomes the new point of... focal point... You see...<br />
Of authority... control... That? Morality.<br />
Yes. Oh. No. I thought – no... control, yes... in a sense... a kind of<br />
background... You see... conceptually, the concept of nature allows Rousseau to say<br />
things...<br />
Ah... I see now... You‘re speaking of Rousseau‘s use of the concepts of nature<br />
and the State... as organising terms... Is that right?<br />
Concepts? Yes... In a sense... But... Doctor... My point is this... I‘ll express it<br />
as best I can... Nothing else changes... I mean... Oh... Rousseau doesn‘t get to solve<br />
the main problem of natural man... Yes... relations... Oh yes... That‘s the problem of<br />
al<strong>ie</strong>nated soc<strong>ie</strong>ty he wants to solve... Law... That‘s authority... yes... the rule of law...<br />
But that‘s only relations between men... is that it? I mean...<br />
Sexual gratification?<br />
Oh yes... That‘s it, Professor... I‘m sorry... Doctor... Sexual relations are<br />
between men and women... oh I mean conventionally... for the sake of argument...<br />
Breeding? Children, that is.<br />
No... at least... no... that‘s secondary, Doctor... I mean... Don‘t you see?<br />
Rousseau sees man only in terms of inclinations... instincts... and their gratification...<br />
But he never discusses the problem of... Please... Yes. It‘s here in my paper... I‘ll<br />
read... Do you mind? Am I taking up too much of your time? I.. .<br />
No... No... That‘s alright... It‘s interesting... But take your time... It‘s<br />
interesting.<br />
Oh, thank you... I don‘t want to be a bore... But the whole concept... well... No<br />
one seems to have thought of it... Maybe...<br />
No... Read... Yes... .It might be eas<strong>ie</strong>r for you...<br />
Okay... Sure... But I hope... Well... Here goes... Just this paragraph... For<br />
Rousseau, man derives all his gratification from nature. It is this which permits man to<br />
live in isolation. But there is one instinct man cannot satisfy in this way, his sexual<br />
instinct. For this, he needs the co-operation of a woman. This means that sexually<br />
man cannot live in isolation... That‘s the introduction to my argument, Doctor White...<br />
You see, Doctor, the problem of relations already existed in nature... But Rousseau<br />
never discusses it... He... His attitude to woman impl<strong>ie</strong>d in that means...<br />
Yes?<br />
That women are not... well... human... Otherwise...<br />
Yes... I see... It‘s an interesting point... Yes... And?<br />
Well, Doctor White... He does not discuss it in his theory of law either... This<br />
means... that women... even in his State are not... any different... They are just natural<br />
objects... that man takes his gratification from her in the same way as he might take<br />
fruit from a tree... Doctor White... that‘s... I don‘t agree with that... Women are not<br />
just... that is...<br />
Yes, I agree... It‘s an interesting point, Miss Hungen... And this invalidates<br />
Rousseau‘s theory... Is that it?<br />
Huh? Doctor White, women have wills! They are not just natural objects...<br />
they can refuse... can choose... for their own gratification, I mean... Do you see?<br />
Yes... That‘s a good counter-argument... in the context... Well... I look forward<br />
to reading your paper, Miss... Hungen... It sounds as though...<br />
But what about men, Doctor? Rousseau... he wants to subject men to a new<br />
compulsion... Law... That‘s not freedom... Oh... Don‘t you see, Doctor White? That‘s<br />
not freedom...<br />
Yes... You have a strong argument... You should pursue it... I mean beyond<br />
19
this... your paper... But your thesis now...<br />
That‘s what I want to talk to you about, Doctor White... My paper...<br />
You do deal with Rousseau‘s notion... eh, concept... of forcing people to be<br />
free... don‘t you?<br />
Yes... yes, of course... But... sex... I mean, Doctor White... What can I do? I...<br />
You seem to have done well enough, Miss Hungen... Let me... I‘ll certainly<br />
read your paper... Then we can discuss the next step...<br />
Please... I seem to be losing track... you know... I meant to write about...<br />
well... the subject... but...<br />
Our system is different. Isn‘t that so? You seem to receive constant<br />
supervision in America... Your graduate schools are... well... teaching remains<br />
important... Here the level of supervision var<strong>ie</strong>s... But the student is expected to learn<br />
for himself... and herself, of course... You know, research...<br />
Yes, I understand that, Doctor White... But...<br />
The student chooses the subject of his thesis... The supervisor merely<br />
sanctions it from a... an academic perspective... to avoid duplicating previous<br />
research, you see...<br />
Yes, I understand... But the scale, Doctor White...<br />
Heavens, Miss... eh... it‘s only a Master‘s... you know... You know... survey<br />
the arguments... general conclusions... And... well... you chose the topic of this paper<br />
yourself, you know...<br />
But it got so out of control, Doctor White... I... I...<br />
Well, let me read it, Miss Hungen... Then we‘ll discuss it... As you say, you do<br />
discuss the idea of forcing people to be free... We‘ll concentrate on that. But... but the<br />
other discussion... about sex... sexual gratification... is worth holding on to as well...<br />
Perhaps after... when you are finished here... you will follow that up... You know, it‘s<br />
a good feminist argument...<br />
Hey! I‘m not a feminist!... I‘m sorry, Doctor... But I don‘t want to appear like<br />
that... I‘m not a feminist... I mean, I found that argument... I wasn‘t looking for it...<br />
You know... but it did strike me that Rousseau... That he... discriminates... no... He‘s<br />
just plain wrong!... Doctor White... I mean... his whole theory is wrong... and...<br />
And you feel it threatens your thesis, is that is?<br />
No!... But... it does... doesn‘t it? There‘s no point in examining the rest of it if<br />
it is fundamentally wrong... but... that‘s no...<br />
Yes... that remains to be seen, doesn‘t it? No, your thesis is still possible...<br />
Let‘s see... Yes... Look, let me read your paper first... It might be that the<br />
contradiction... no... It‘s really an omission, isn‘t it? can be handled under the concept<br />
of natural relations... Yes. Note that if you wish... Natural relations... Perhaps you can<br />
prepare something on that... No... a short paper... about two thousand... six or seven<br />
pages... Like this... Mm... Find a general formulation of the problem... Start at the end,<br />
if necessary... you know... what kind of relations envisaged under law... Yes. Then<br />
al<strong>ie</strong>nated soc<strong>ie</strong>ty... That‘s it... then in nature... See what you come up with... But don‘t<br />
worry if your answer is tentative... Just see what is there... Do you follow?<br />
Oh yes.<br />
Good... It may not be relevant... Do bear that in mind... But it is as well to be<br />
sure... Now... Let me read this... Give me... How long will you need? For this work on<br />
relations.<br />
I don‘t know... It depends on...<br />
Well, let‘s say next week, same day, same time... A general survey... that‘s<br />
all... don‘t get... you know... get the general picture... Then we‘ll see.<br />
20
Thank you, Doctor White. I appreciate this... You don‘t know how...<br />
Yes, I know... unexplored territory... always seems vast... The thing is to know<br />
where you are going... Don‘t let yourself be sidetracked... Good... Well, I‘ll see you<br />
next Monday at eleven...<br />
Yes, yes... I‘ll... oh... the paper... Here... Oh... How clumsy... I...<br />
I‘ve got it... Please... No... You should...<br />
Goodbye, Doctor White... And thank you again... You are so helpful... You<br />
really are, Doctor... I‘m awfully grateful... I‘ll see you next Monday...<br />
Yes... Goodbye, Miss... eh...<br />
Hello.<br />
Mother.<br />
Lotty! Lotty, dear, how are you?<br />
Fine, mother. I‘m fine... How are you?<br />
Ha! Grand, grand... But it‘s so hard to get going this morning... Monday<br />
morning... I feel as though I have loads to do... But... perhaps that‘s habit... I mean...<br />
getting started again after the weekend... I used to make myself extra busy on Monday<br />
mornings... just so... It‘s a lovely morning. Have you been out?<br />
No, mother. Not yet... I... but it feels warm.<br />
Yes... The sun is splitting the trees... It‘s a pity it wasn‘t like this yesterday,<br />
dear... You and Dan need... You know you should get all the sun you can in the<br />
summer. The winter sun is practically useless... Someone told me that recently, Lotty.<br />
The winter sun here won‘t give you a tan. You could live in a hole in the ground and<br />
it would make no difference... But there‘s also something about vitamins... Do you<br />
know anything about that, Lotty?<br />
What about vitamins, mother... You‘re not getting into this d<strong>ie</strong>t and nutrition<br />
craze, are you? I mean...<br />
Oh no, Lotty... It‘s... He said we get vitamins from the sun... But how is that? I<br />
thought you had to eat something... Like cabbage... They say there is iron in<br />
cabbage...<br />
There are vitamins in all our food, mother... Don‘t worry... You have a good<br />
average d<strong>ie</strong>t. You get all the... what you need... Don‘t worry, mother...<br />
Oh, I‘m not worrying, Lotty... But everything seems so complicated... I like to<br />
eat what I like... No... Perhaps what I‘m used to... But he said that most of these things<br />
were useless if not dangerous... Fats, for instance. Do you know there are two kinds of<br />
fats, Lotty? They have long names, of course... But one of them can kill you. The<br />
other is... oh... it‘s not good for you... but...<br />
Oh, mother... The things you worry about...<br />
Worry? No, Lotty... I... Oh but my d<strong>ie</strong>t hasn‘t done me any harm... Fats... But I<br />
love the fat of a fr<strong>ie</strong>d lamb chop. I do... He‘d say that it was dangerous. But it hasn‘t<br />
done me any harm, Lotty... I mean...<br />
Of course not, mother. You‘d have to eat tons of fat and not exercise. But you<br />
are vigorous and active still... Oh... I mean... Mother, you just carry on as you are.<br />
You...<br />
Ah, that‘s it... It wasn‘t that... What struck me is that mother never let the sun<br />
at her... Do you know that, Lotty? Perhaps I told you before... She used to wear a<br />
veil... The Italian sun was so strong, Lotty... I was different... I was always tanned...<br />
21
But mother was a bit old-fashioned towards the end, really... Do you know... I‘ve just<br />
remembered... She used to leave the milk to settle. Then she‘d take the cream off...<br />
She used to say that it was bad for her skin... Ah yes. That‘s it. Her skin, Lotty... She<br />
used almond oil... Yes, Lotty... She said that the almond tree was nature‘s greatest gift<br />
to man... The flowers and... Oh, Lotty, it‘s funny that you are a mother now... I...<br />
well... it makes me remember so much... I feel as though I... How is Brian? He‘s so<br />
charming, do you know that, Lotty?<br />
Yes, mother... when he‘s asleep... Like all bab<strong>ie</strong>s... No... I‘m being facetious...<br />
He‘s in great form, mother... I think he has part of you... you know... He can be so<br />
vigorous...<br />
Me? That‘s nice, dear... But Dan... his father... he‘s always on the go... I<br />
mean...<br />
No... It‘s different. Dan is active. But he‘s steady... Brian is vigorous...<br />
You mean he‘s impulsive?<br />
Oh no, mother. Not impulsive... He knows what he wants... I suppose it‘s the<br />
way he goes after it...<br />
Am I like that, Lotty? No, seriously... I never thought of myself as ambitious...<br />
I don‘t think I had to be... You know... It‘s different with people who start off with<br />
nothing... They... oh... they have to strive for... I mean... so they can be themselves...<br />
Be themselves? Do you mean that ambitious people are inadequate, mother? I<br />
haven‘t thought of it like that... What about talent, mother? Is that an inadequacy?<br />
No. No, Lotty... I just thought of that... I hadn‘t thought about it before... But<br />
ambitious people always seem so... well... lacking in something essential. You know...<br />
well... it‘s hard to say... their pushiness... I mean... they can upset so much...<br />
But, mother... haven‘t people a right to... find themselves, as you say? I mean,<br />
children are like that anyway.<br />
You are so liberal, dear. But... I expect you can afford to be... But... you‘ve not<br />
been threatened... my generation, Lotty. I mean... Mussolini and Hitler. Yes. Hitler...<br />
They threatened... It was necessary to defend... to defend values like... freedom,<br />
Lotty...<br />
Of course, mother. I‘m not saying that was...<br />
Yes... I‘m a conservative, dear. A Tory... except well... conservatism is not the<br />
word in this country, I suppose... Bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me, Lotty. I‘m not against change. There are<br />
good things. The motor car. Medicine. In the home... I mean... But you can‘t allow<br />
change to get out of hand... That would be anarchy and... People want to hold on to<br />
the good things. Oh heavens, Lotty... What a conversation, dear... Monday morning...<br />
if I don‘t get going I... daydream... Really. I ought to...<br />
But it‘s interesting, mother... You don‘t often talk about politics and... well,<br />
what can be called values...<br />
It must be the influence of Dan, Lotty... I mean he doesn‘t go on about his<br />
work in that way... But the books and magazines one sees... They make one think...<br />
Do you read them, mother?<br />
Oh. Read them? No. Oh no, Lotty... I... They seem awfully complicated, you<br />
know... So many strange words... and... well... different from what we bel<strong>ie</strong>ved...<br />
Oh, I must tell Dan. I‘m sure he would like to talk to you about it... I mean...<br />
It‘s not that complicated... just new... Mother, even I don‘t understand it at times...<br />
You are right... So many new names and ideas.<br />
Yes, dear, that‘s it... But, Lotty... politics, you know... One has to be careful<br />
there...<br />
Careful, mother? But Dan is not a subversive... He has to read all those<br />
22
ooks... We voted for the present government. You approve of them, don‘t you? You<br />
said you did... Their programme is a fair one, given the situation.<br />
Yes, dear... I didn‘t mean voting and all that... One should vote... It‘s<br />
democratic... But I mean ideas... You know, Tom said Marx was connected with<br />
Communism... You see what I mean?<br />
Mother! Tom is a businessman. You‘d expect him to think like that.<br />
Oh, how do you mean, Lotty? Tom is a good businessman... He is... Why,<br />
don‘t you think Communism is the greatest threat to democracy and... well, values?<br />
Don‘t you, Lotty?<br />
Oh, mother! There‘s practically no communism here! It‘s not like France and<br />
Italy, you know.<br />
Not that, Lotty... I mean Russia... Tom says that President Reagan and<br />
Margaret Thatcher are right to be tough on the Russians... They protect our values...<br />
western values... Don‘t you agree with that, Lotty?<br />
I don‘t know, mother... that‘s extreme... I‘m not sure communism would make<br />
that much difference to my life... or yours.<br />
But don‘t you see, dear, they‘d make us do things we don‘t want to do... They<br />
might make you work... or have more children... And Tom... they‘d take his business<br />
away from him.<br />
But, mother, they‘d use his talent for... well... management... They‘d make<br />
him a manager... They wouldn‘t waste talents. That would be irrational, mother.<br />
But don‘t you see, dear, the Communists don‘t like... they hate the middle<br />
classes... They would punish us... can‘t you see that?<br />
Oh mother, what funny ideas you have this morning. Why would they punish<br />
us? You‘ve done nothing to be ashamed of. You... Neither have I or Dan... I mean, if<br />
it could make more people happy. Anyway, mother, there is no danger of that here.<br />
You know that. I mean – well – Roman Catholicism is very anti-communist... Their<br />
pr<strong>ie</strong>sts...<br />
Oh, that‘s all very well, Lotty, but the Russians could take over this country in<br />
a day... We have to depend on the British and the Americans to stop them... That‘s<br />
realistic... Do you see, dear? It‘s a question of power... Tom says that faith is no<br />
longer enough... There must be power... Like the atom bomb, I mean... Oh Lotty... it‘s<br />
such a funny morning... The things I‘m thinking of..<br />
But why shouldn‘t you think of them, mother? You have your own mind. Why<br />
shouldn‘t you think?<br />
But it‘s so depressing, dear. I‘m talking about the atom bomb now... Everyone<br />
is so afraid of being destroyed by it... What point is there in thinking about that,<br />
Lotty?<br />
But, mother, that‘s been around for years... I grew up thinking that.<br />
Did... Yes... Of course... Oh. I hadn‘t realised that... Yes... I remember now.<br />
You were only a girl and everyone thought there would be war... you know, atom<br />
bombs... I was so sad for you, dear... I mean... I thought you didn‘t know. I thought<br />
you would d<strong>ie</strong> without knowing how... oh... Lotty, I thought you were so innocent...<br />
you know... to d<strong>ie</strong> in that horrible way.<br />
Oh, mother... I didn‘t know that... But I do remember the Cuban missile<br />
crisis... We talked about it at school... Some of the girls were fascinated... Roberta<br />
Montgomery was absolutely morbid...<br />
I didn‘t know that, Lotty... You mean you discussed it with others and not with<br />
me? Why could you not talk to me, Lotty? I was so worr<strong>ie</strong>d for you.<br />
Oh, mother, there were a lot of things I didn‘t discuss with you then... Girls are<br />
23
like that... Weren‘t you?<br />
Me? No, Lotty... I had one childhood f<strong>ie</strong>nd... Camilla Legrenzi... She lived<br />
upstairs... We could never talk very well together... her language... But she was so<br />
sweet and...<br />
Anyway, we talked about lots of things that... well... we wouldn‘t discuss with<br />
our parents... Girls are like that... And boys.<br />
Oh... oh Lotty, I never knew that. I always thought you were so innocent and...<br />
unknowing... When you sang... you know... oh, you were like an angel... I used to fear<br />
for you because... of the things you didn‘t know... But Victor... your father... always<br />
said you would learn about them when you were old enough to bear them.<br />
What things, mother?<br />
What things? About life... about what went on in the world... That it wasn‘t<br />
what it appeared to be... when you said you wanted to study history... I was so<br />
worr<strong>ie</strong>d. You know, history is so unpleasant... I always thought that, Lotty. But Victor<br />
said it would give you a perspective... Did it, dear? Did it give you a perspective?<br />
Oh mother! What a way to put it. I liked history... It... yes... it does give a<br />
perspective... It explains the present... you know... why people go to war.<br />
Oh, I‘m glad, Lotty... That‘s what your father thought. I‘m glad he was right,<br />
Lotty... He had such judgement, you know, dear. So qu<strong>ie</strong>t, yet he could see into<br />
things... and people... Oh...<br />
Mother...<br />
It‘s alright, darling... I‘m fine... Really... Perhaps it‘s the kind of morning it<br />
is... It‘s so sweet and gentle... You really ought to go out... You should take Brian for<br />
a walk.<br />
I will... later... this afternoon...<br />
Lotty, it is nice that you are a mother now... Oh... The things I am saying this<br />
morning... Really... But I mean that, dear... I feel we are like sisters... yes, sisters<br />
now... Perhaps that‘s why I‘ve said all these things to you... You don‘t mind, Lotty,<br />
do you?<br />
No, mother. Of course not... I‘m sure I feel...<br />
Oh good. There‘s so much I want to tell you, Lotty. There are so many things<br />
in a woman‘s... mother‘s... life. Lotty, it‘s so profound... Do you know that? It really<br />
is... Yes... I told Dan yesterday that... well, a mother feels that part of her is out in the<br />
world... It makes the world seem strange... A woman has to learn so many new things<br />
about the world... Do you see that yet?<br />
Yes, Dan told me. He thought it was a profound thing to say.<br />
Dan told you? Does he tell you everything, dear?<br />
I don‘t know, mother... I think so...<br />
Yes... well... I think a man should know that, Lotty. They should understand a<br />
woman‘s anx<strong>ie</strong>ty.<br />
Anx<strong>ie</strong>ty? Mother, it‘s not that bad. It‘s...<br />
Oh, of course not, dear... But... Oh look... I ought to go now... You must have<br />
loads to do, dear... Come and see me later in the week. Won‘t you? Come in the<br />
afternoon and bring Brian... Goodbye now, dear... And don‘t worry... You are right, of<br />
course... But I do worry about you sometimes, Lotty. Well... ha... mothers... Goodbye,<br />
dear... Love to Dan and Brian.<br />
Mother! Oh... Goodbye... I...<br />
24
Frege distinguishes between thought and ‗idea‘: ‗We are not bearers of<br />
the thought, as we are bearers of our ideas... When we are thinking we do not<br />
create a thought, but we grasp it.‘<br />
But ‗thought‘ and ‗idea‘ are broadly synonymous. However, to the<br />
extent that speech is prior to thinking – thinking is private expression – what<br />
Frege says here would be better understood if analysed in terms of speech. An<br />
idea, then, is my peculiar way of communicating a content – the thought. An<br />
idea is thus my particular way of using language – syntax, etc, conditioned by<br />
social context as to relative formality etc. The thought is that which is<br />
transmitted by language used in this way.<br />
Frege equates ‗the thought‘ with ‗the objective‘. He says the objective<br />
is that which (1) does not require a bearer; (2) can be grasped by more than<br />
one human being and (3) is not merely actual or real (wirtlich).<br />
Obviously, ‗idea‘, as used by Frege, does not fulfil all these conditions,<br />
especially (1). But it does fulfil (2), definitionally as communication. (3)? Yes<br />
– it is only actual.<br />
‗Our ideas‘, therefore, are actual. They can be grasped by more than<br />
one human being – that is, they can be communicated. But they do require a<br />
bearer. Our expression/communication is actual, but not objective. It is<br />
intersubjective, but not objective.<br />
The use of language, then, requires a speaker and an aud<strong>ie</strong>nce. Even in<br />
the act of thinking this is the case – there I am both speaker and aud<strong>ie</strong>nce I<br />
communicate with myself.<br />
The use or articulation of language is intersubjective.<br />
Is language anything more than this? That is, in the present context,<br />
can language be objective in Frege‘s sense?<br />
Partment of the Envirnment.<br />
Hello.<br />
Yes? Department of the Envirnment.<br />
Ah... Yes... May I speak with Anthony Hackett... I‘m afraid I don‘t know his<br />
extension...<br />
Hold on... Ringing.<br />
Thank you.<br />
Yes? Hackett.<br />
Tony?<br />
Yes!... Yes?<br />
Tony, this is Dan White. I...<br />
Dan! How are you, Dan?<br />
I‘m well... How are you?<br />
Me? Fine, Dan... Fine... How are things? I haven‘t seen you in ages. Must be<br />
about a year... Sarah Burns‘ party. Remember?<br />
Indeed. The big Roche fellow falling down the stairs.<br />
Ha. Yes... Free drink. Using two hands... Ha... Think he hadn‘t a drink in ages.<br />
He‘s back doing research again. Camped in the Old Library as usual.<br />
Sandwiches and flask... You know he had some kind of breakdown the last time.<br />
Yes. Had a roomful of notes apparently. Couldn‘t make anything of them.<br />
25
Same as an undergraduate. All day every day. But it didn‘t show much in the way of<br />
results... How did he get back, Dan?<br />
Hanlon. Worked in a library somewhere for five years. But he kept in with<br />
Hanlon. He fixed a faculty grant for him. Now he‘s doing some more of Hanlon‘s<br />
research for him.<br />
Thought it was something like that. Well, that‘s one way of doing it.<br />
Yes.<br />
And Hanlon will fix him up with a post when he‘s finished?<br />
Doubt it. He‘s got Russell already. Anyway, College has closed up on new<br />
appointments. Government ban... Like yourselves.<br />
Ah... of course... How is Charley?<br />
She‘s fine. We had a child. A boy. About a month ago.<br />
Oh yes. I‘d heard she was... A boy. Congratulations.<br />
Thanks.<br />
No trouble?<br />
No. Everything went according to plan.<br />
Good. Good. I‘m glad, Dan... We must have a drink to celebrate. Bring<br />
Charley...<br />
Yes. We must do that... I‘ll speak to her about it... But lunch first, Tony.<br />
There‘s something I want to ask you.<br />
Sure... When?<br />
This week sometime. Say Wednesday.<br />
Wednesday? Yes. About one?<br />
Yes. That would be fine.<br />
Good. Look, Dan. I‘ll come up to your office. I haven‘t been in the new<br />
building yet.<br />
Yes. Do that. About one on Wednesday then.<br />
Right, Dan. Give my regards to Charley. And... What have you called him?<br />
Brian.<br />
And Brian... See you.<br />
Goodbye, Tony.<br />
How can one prove that ‗the thought‘ does not require a bearer?<br />
Frege: ‗When we are thinking we do not create a thought, but we grasp<br />
it... What I recognise as true I judge to be independent of my recognition of its<br />
truth.‘<br />
Two arguments here:<br />
(1) We do not create a thought, we grasp it.<br />
(2) The thought, as such, is true.<br />
Even allowing that (1) is the case, this does not show that the thought<br />
is not borne. In fact, it only refers to the local origination of the thought with<br />
reference (a) to the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of a thinker at a given instance and (b) to a<br />
restricted argument, that it is grasped rather than created. (a) is a matter of<br />
psychological investigation and perhaps difficult to substantiate. (b) only says<br />
that the thought is received, that it does not originate in the individual thinker.<br />
What is not shown is that the thought is not being borne by some means (i.e.<br />
language in one medium or another) prior to reception by our thinker. In other<br />
26
words, Frege‘s argument does not show how the thought transcends<br />
intersubjectivity – that is, transcends being borne by some person, either<br />
immediately, in speech, or mediately, in writing or reported speech.<br />
If this is the case, then the distinction between ‗the thought‘ and ‗our<br />
ideas‘ collapses. It cannot be shown that such a distinction exists.<br />
With reference to (1b), then, it can be said that language is not<br />
objective, because there is no such thing as objectivity in Frege‘s sense.<br />
Language and thought are intersubjective. And no more.<br />
(2) superficially appears to be a tautology: the thought must be true<br />
because it is objective. But there are two arguments in the statement:<br />
(a) I recognise the true.<br />
(b) I judge that the true is independent of my recognition of its truth.<br />
Are these serial actions? Does judgement follow on recognition, either<br />
necessarily or contingently? It would seem so, for the judgement would not be<br />
possible without the prior recognition of the true, for judgement here is not<br />
concerned with evaluation. I do not decide that the true is true. I recognise it,<br />
obviously as something objective. Here judgement serves to inform me that<br />
the objective truth and my recognition of it – of the objective truth, not of the<br />
truth of the objective – are distinct.<br />
There is a distinction here, once again, as in the case of the distinction<br />
between ‗the thought‘ and ‗our ideas‘, a distinction between the objective and<br />
a mental event which is, by implication, not objective.<br />
Where (1), above, is concerned with the reception of the thought, (2) is<br />
concerned with the reception of the true. Again it is the question of the origination<br />
of, this time, the true that is being resolved. Now, (2a) does not show the<br />
objectivity of the true, because ‗recognition‘ functions with reference to the<br />
true much as ‗grasping‘ does with reference to the thought. However, it can be<br />
seen that the act of judgement is a step beyond either grasping the thought or<br />
recognising the true, for it is the source of the distinction between the true, per<br />
se, and my recognition of it. In other words, this statement concerning<br />
judgement underl<strong>ie</strong>s Frege‘s statement about the distinction between ‗the<br />
thought‘ and ‗our ideas‘.<br />
Thus, Frege‘s argument for objectivity is at bottom an argument<br />
concerning human judgement. Therefore, Frege‘s argument should run thus:<br />
(1) What I recognise as true I judge to be independent of my recognition of its<br />
truth.<br />
(2) (Therefore) we are not bearers of the thought, as we are bearers of our<br />
ideas.<br />
(3) When we are thinking we do not create a thought, but we grasp it.<br />
Rendered in this way, it becomes clear that the fundamental feature of<br />
what is external to the mind is the true, and the crucial mental act is the act of<br />
judgement.<br />
Thus the argument about objectivity becomes an argument about the<br />
true. It is a different argument. The case for objectivity turns on the assertion<br />
that the objective does not require a bearer, an assertion that cannot be proven,<br />
in so far as all thoughts are borne by some language media at the point of<br />
reception. But the argument for the true does not turn on a similar ‗reception‘<br />
event, for while recognition of the true is a ‗reception‘ event, it is not the<br />
burden of Frege‘s argument. Instead, the burden is located at a secondary point<br />
or level, where a judgement is made which distinguishes between the true, per<br />
27
But...<br />
se, and the recognition of the true.<br />
Examine now (i) the true, (ii) judgement.<br />
With regard to (ii) notice that this assertion is grounded, as (la) above<br />
is, in the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of a thinker, that it is a psychological rather than a<br />
‗logical‘ argument. The problem of substantiation by reference to private<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce will arise.<br />
Dan!<br />
Hello, sweetheart. Sorry I‘m so late. I...<br />
What time is it?<br />
About eight... I‘m not sure... I stayed on in College. I should have phoned you.<br />
Eight! Oh, I must have fallen asleep after feeding Brian... Have you eaten?<br />
No... I was working on the paper. I didn‘t realise it was so late... I...<br />
I‘ll make a salad. That won‘t take long... Brian has really disrupted our habits.<br />
I‘m glad you were asleep... You weren‘t worr<strong>ie</strong>d...<br />
Sleep! I seem to be sleeping all the time, Dan... And when I sleep I dream...<br />
Hmmm... Perhaps...<br />
I... What? Perhaps what, Dan?<br />
Oh, nothing... I... What do you dream of?<br />
I don‘t know... Wait. I‘m going to open a can. I want to add some pineapple.<br />
My mouth is so... My throat... the lower part... is always tight... As if I wanted to<br />
yawn... or. There. That machine is so noisy. Dan. Dan. Sit down.<br />
Yes. Oh... I should help...<br />
No. It‘s done... I prepared most of the things earl<strong>ie</strong>r... Dan... The seal... was it<br />
true? I mean what you told me on Sunday... yesterday...<br />
Hmmm...<br />
Sit down, Dan... Do...<br />
Was what true?<br />
The seal. Did you really see the seal?<br />
Oh that... I told you. It couldn‘t be anything else...<br />
But you‘re not sure, are you?<br />
Why have you brought it up? It‘s not important.<br />
It‘s strange... Since last night... after you told me... I‘ve been dreaming of that<br />
seal... Here. Take some of this ham...<br />
Thanks... What‘s strange about that?<br />
It‘s not that... It‘s this. Only now... I mean before I came down... I realised that<br />
I‘ve been dreaming the same dream ever since Brian was born...<br />
But it can‘t have been about the seal... I saw it only yesterday.<br />
Yes... No... Let me... I‘ll try to explain... I‘ve had the same dream for a month.<br />
But I wasn‘t aware of this until this evening. What made me aware of the dream is the<br />
fact that since yesterday I have been dreaming about the seal diving down into the<br />
sea... Can you see?<br />
The same dream? How can you be sure, Charley?<br />
Oh, I‘m sure, Dan. Call it intuition, if you like... When I woke up this evening<br />
I knew I had been dreaming the dream for weeks... It‘s almost as though it is the same<br />
dream... you know, continuous... and each time I sleep I enter the dream...<br />
28
But not the seal, Charley.<br />
Yes. That‘s true... But it is the same dream, Dan. I‘m sure of that...<br />
But you don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me about the seal, Charley. How can you say that you<br />
are now dreaming of something you don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve existed?<br />
What? I... But you said you saw it. You‘ve just said again that you did... Are<br />
you saying now that you mislead me, Dan?<br />
No! Remember what I told you yesterday, Charley. I saw something in the sea<br />
which I deduced could only be a seal. That‘s not the same as saying that I definitely<br />
saw a seal... Can you see that?<br />
Of course I can...<br />
You are having a phantasy about a seal. What I said yesterday triggered it.<br />
That‘s all. It doesn‘t depend on whether I saw a seal or not. You see? It‘s not what I<br />
actually saw that counts, but what I said to you.<br />
It‘s not a phantasy, Dan. I‘m not deluded. It‘s a real dream... like any dream<br />
I‘ve had...<br />
That‘s not the point, Charley. Why do you want me to say I didn‘t see the<br />
seal?<br />
I‘m not! I want to be sure you did.<br />
But that wouldn‘t make any difference, Charley. The fact that you dream<br />
about a seal has nothing to do with whether I saw one or not.<br />
But it is only since I began to dream about the seal that I realise that I have<br />
been dreaming the same dream since Brian was born. How do you explain that?<br />
I can‘t, Charley. I‘m not a psychologist.<br />
Yes... But it‘s so strange, Dan. It‘s frightening to think that I‘ve been dreaming<br />
for weeks without being aware of it... If you think about it, Dan.<br />
You mean what other exper<strong>ie</strong>nces does one have without being aware of<br />
them?<br />
Yes. Exactly... That‘s frightening... Don‘t you think so?<br />
It‘s hardly likely, Charley.<br />
You mean it couldn‘t happen to you?<br />
I mean that circumstances would soon bring it to your attention. Otherwise<br />
that kind of exper<strong>ie</strong>nce wouldn‘t be significant... I mean like not being aware of the<br />
colour of each passing car.<br />
But what about mental exper<strong>ie</strong>nces, Dan? What if you dream the same dream<br />
every night without being aware of it? A kind of cosmic dream.<br />
Cosmic dream? Is that what your dream is?<br />
It‘s always the same dream, Dan. It must be important.<br />
Yes... If what you say is true, then it is interesting... But how can something<br />
happen to you repeatedly without your becoming aware of it?<br />
If you didn‘t know, Dan...<br />
Know? How do you mean?<br />
What? I mean... Wait... If you weren‘t expecting it... Or... if you didn‘t know it<br />
was possible... Or didn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it was possible...<br />
Bel<strong>ie</strong>ve? I thought you said know first... You either know a thing or you<br />
don‘t... Bel<strong>ie</strong>f is not the same, Charley.<br />
I know that, Dan... I... I‘m trying to find the words for...<br />
Well, make it one or the other. Anything is possible where bel<strong>ie</strong>f is<br />
concerned...<br />
That‘s faith, Dan... It‘s not the same thing.<br />
Does it matter? It‘s a tedious subject anyway. Let‘s talk about something else<br />
29
if you want to talk.<br />
What? I don‘t need to talk, Dan. I‘m not a bored housewife who needs to be<br />
joll<strong>ie</strong>d along in the evening.<br />
I didn‘t mean that... It just goes on and on... Look. Let me put it this way. You<br />
are having a dream about a seal. Now you remember that you‘ve been dreaming a<br />
dream like it since Brian was born. Well, that‘s that. There is nothing else to know.<br />
The problem you find frightening is similar to the case where you are playing a game<br />
that you don‘t understand very well. For a while you perform certain actions without<br />
being aware of their significance until someone explains the relevant rules. Then your<br />
actions become intelligible or meaningful. At the same time, your past actions also<br />
become meaningful. Do you see? Your dream is like that. The seal makes it<br />
meaningful.<br />
But I wasn‘t dreaming about the seal before you told me you had seen it, Dan.<br />
I know. But the seal has made you retrospectively aware of your dream. In that<br />
way it makes it meaningful.<br />
But that‘s not the same as saying that my dream is about the seal.<br />
Perhaps not. But it is too occult otherwise. To the extent that you dream about<br />
a seal, then you should accept that your dream is about a seal.<br />
Oh... How rational that is, Dan.<br />
How else can it be, Charley?<br />
But having the dream for weeks without being aware of it? How can you<br />
explain that, Dan?<br />
I can‘t...<br />
But what if you didn‘t see the seal, Dan?<br />
No... I don‘t understand you... I‘ve already said that...<br />
But if you didn‘t see the seal, Dan, what am I dreaming about then?<br />
Oh, this is too tedious, Charley... I‘m going inside... Thanks for the meal. I<br />
enjoyed it.<br />
Why don‘t you answer me, Dan? What am I dreaming about then?<br />
Alright, Charley. I‘ll say it one more time. You are dreaming about what I<br />
said, not what I saw.<br />
What you said? But... Dan! Come back...<br />
Later, later, Charley. I‘m tired now...<br />
Mother was in a funny mood this morning.<br />
Hmm... Was she?<br />
Yes. She talked so much. About politics and the atom bomb and values... Are<br />
you having some kind of effect on her, do you think?<br />
Me? I‘ve never spoken to her about politics.<br />
No... I mean... She reads your books and journals while she is minding Brian...<br />
She said so.<br />
I can put them away up here if you like.<br />
Goodness no. I think it is good for her, Dan. She‘s lived a restricted life... Too<br />
restricted.<br />
How? It seems to me that she gets out more than we do. Tom Spencer takes<br />
her to a lot of part<strong>ie</strong>s and restaurants.<br />
I don‘t mean that... Anyway, she is always meeting the same people... No. I<br />
30
mean her ideas are too restricted... Though...<br />
Do you think so, Charley? She is full of ideas.<br />
No. I mean abstract ideas. Like Marxism...<br />
Huh. Spencer will like that.<br />
Yess. Hah... He defends Western values.<br />
Heh-heh... I bet he does. Thatcher and Reagan and all that.<br />
Indeed. Power instead of faith, he says.<br />
Nuke em all! Ha-ha-ha... I can picture him, Charley... The Western Powers<br />
defending his consultancy business... Protecting the colony.<br />
Is that how you see him, Dan? He‘s not really West-Brit, you know... A lot of<br />
the ar-cees are like that too.<br />
Sure. But it‘s America they love.<br />
Yes, that‘s true... But he is good for mother. His vigour, I mean.<br />
I dare say... They are well suited... Do you think they will marry?<br />
I don‘t know... Anyway, I don‘t want to get involved in mother‘s affairs. She<br />
is old enough to looks after herself.<br />
Sure, sure. I was just speculating.<br />
Well, I‘d rather not go into it... Anyway... What happened today, Dan?<br />
Happened? Nothing happened. I stopped on to work out some notes... I told<br />
you.<br />
You were very abstracted and irritable when you came home... You‘ve never<br />
cut me off like that before, you know.<br />
Cut you off? I didn‘t... Charley, I was tired... I spent the day working on those<br />
notes... They‘re very peripheral. But they are taking up a lot of time. It‘s almost<br />
August already and the paper is to be delivered in the first week of term.<br />
Why are you going to so much trouble, Dan? You told me that Paddy Russell<br />
took only a month to prepare last year‘s lecture.<br />
Oh, Russell used his own research... Anyway, he spent most of the time<br />
rev<strong>ie</strong>wing the published material on the subject.<br />
Why don‘t you do that, then? I mean, you‘ll get only two pounds for your<br />
trouble. And nobody ever buys the pamphlet... You‘ll have to give them away.<br />
That‘s not the point, Charley. I‘ve done no research in this sort of area. I‘ve<br />
got to work it all out from scratch.<br />
As you say... But you are making it very hard for yourself, Dan.<br />
Oh, don‘t misunderstand me, Charley. The subject is interesting in its own<br />
way.<br />
I dare say it is, Dan. But it is making you very abstracted.<br />
Then that makes two of us.<br />
Me? Am I abstracted? Is that how you see it, Dan?<br />
What else can be expected under the circumstances, Charley? You have to<br />
feed Brian at all hours day and night. And you admit you are sleeping an awful lot.<br />
Yes... I suppose it‘s true... We‘re both in a muddle... But it won‘t last for ever,<br />
Dan.<br />
No. October... You?<br />
October.<br />
Good... I look forward to that.<br />
And so do I.<br />
Will I switch out the light?<br />
Yes, do... You go to sleep if you want.<br />
Mm... Yes... But... Oh, I rang Tony Hackett.<br />
31
Already?<br />
I‘m meeting him on Wednesday for lunch.<br />
What will you tell him?<br />
I‘m not sure yet. I‘ll play it by ear... You know, he has changed.<br />
How?<br />
He‘s a kind of outsider now... I don‘t mean to be cliquish... I mean that he‘s<br />
loyal to something else now.<br />
Well, he‘s been in the civil service for ten years now... He‘s a bureaucrat now.<br />
No... I‘m a kind of bureaucrat too. After all, the State pays my salary... No...<br />
This loyalty is... how can I put it?.. well, cliquish.<br />
What they call clannish?<br />
No... As though he was a member of a small club... self-conscious.<br />
How can you tell that from a short telephone conversation?<br />
Well, when he realised who it was on the phone, his manner changed<br />
completely... Remember how your manner would change if a tourist asked you a<br />
question in College? Like that... Yes... Can you see that? Instantly covering something<br />
up.<br />
Hardly... I mean, a tourist is an outsider... But Tony hardly sees you as an<br />
outsider.<br />
Perhaps on one level that‘s true... But I sensed a complete change in him...<br />
What does he do there? Do you know? I‘ve never asked him. Civil servants always<br />
seem so discreet.<br />
I don‘t know. I‘ve never had the chance to ask him... But... Yes... Remember<br />
Sarah Burns‘ party last year?<br />
Yes... Actually, Tony mentioned it. That was the last time we met.<br />
That‘s right... Well, I overheard someone teasing him about his work...<br />
Whoever it was called him the Government‘s Estate Agent.<br />
Estate Agent?<br />
Oh, Tony was being teased... I don‘t think that‘s his actual position... Isn‘t he<br />
an assistant principal or something?<br />
I don‘t know... Last time he told me... about four or five years ago... he had<br />
some kind of administrative rank... Yes. He told me that because he was describing<br />
his secretary... She amused him for some reason.<br />
She would... So, you are not so sure of him now, are you?<br />
It‘s not that... There can‘t be any clash of interests... No, I‘ll make it seem<br />
fairly innocuous... you know, a little paranoid.<br />
Paranoid? Ha! But it is paranoid, Dan. I mean, if it was true?<br />
Well, we‘ll try to find out... I suppose until then it is a kind of paranoia...<br />
Oh, Dan, isn‘t it just... Between the FitzHerbert Lecture and sinister jet trails<br />
you‘ll drive yourself... oh...<br />
Oh no. There‘s no fear of that, Charley. They actually counterbalance one<br />
another in a curious way. One is serious, the other is trivial.<br />
And which is serious and which is trivial?<br />
Mmh... Good question... I don‘t know... We‘ll have to see, won‘t we?<br />
Yes... oh yes... And, darling, I hope the paper is the serious one.<br />
Hhh. In which case I‘ll probably become permanently distracted.<br />
Better than being permanently... Oh... But it‘s so silly, Dan... Why here?<br />
We‘re no threat to anyone.<br />
Strategy, sweetheart. Not the people. The island. It‘s strategic... History has<br />
shown that over and over again. The English, the Spaniards, the French, the<br />
32
Germans... When you think of it, Charley, the English saved the Irish from a worse<br />
fate...<br />
I can imagine what they would say to that.<br />
So can I... But it‘s true in any case... They could have been mauled by every<br />
nation in Europe... Think what they would be like today if that had happened. They<br />
would be paranoid about the whole of Europe... Hhh... Ha ha ha!... Except... Hhh,<br />
hhh... except Russia...<br />
It‘s not funny, Dan.<br />
Don‘t you see, Charley? Russia is the only European power that never<br />
meddled in this island... That‘s ironic, Charley.<br />
You have a funny humour at times, Dan... Bloodless...<br />
Bloodless?<br />
You seem to forget that we live here... And you intend raising your son here.<br />
It would be the same anywhere, Charley... Better laugh.<br />
I won‘t... Go to sleep... Perhaps tiredness has made you cynical.<br />
Huh? Don‘t be so serious, Charley... Life goes on... Anyway, I may be wrong.<br />
It‘s not that... You said... it would be the same anywhere.<br />
And?<br />
That‘s true, Dan. It‘s true... Mother used to be afraid of the atom bomb. As<br />
though there was just one bomb... But they can destroy the whole Earth... as you say,<br />
everywhere... Oh, Dan... Dan... there‘s no innocence anymore... Oh oh...<br />
Charley! Oh look, don‘t cry... Here... L<strong>ie</strong> down... Come on, sweetheart...<br />
There now... There now...<br />
Oh, Dan... Ohh... Dan... What can love do now? I mean...<br />
Hush, sweetheart... Don‘t let it take you over... Ease yourself... There. There.<br />
It‘ll be alright...<br />
Oh Dan. Oh darling.<br />
Sweetheart... sweetheart. There, there...<br />
Oh Dan... Love me... Love me...<br />
I do, sweetheart. I love you, Charley. Bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me...<br />
Oh Dan... And I love you too... I do... I really do...<br />
Hush now... hush... rest...<br />
Oh Dan... yes... hold me... I...<br />
Go to sleep, sweetheart... Don‘t worry...<br />
Oh Dan... I... really do... behind everything... all the time ...<br />
Yes, sweetheart... I know... I love you constantly... Now go to sleep...<br />
Oh Dan... Dan...<br />
Sleep... Sleep now...<br />
TUESDAY<br />
Question: Which should be analysed first, (i) the true or (ii)<br />
judgement?<br />
In Frege‘s argument:<br />
33
(a) To the extent that ‗reception‘ (recognition) and judgement are successive<br />
events, then the true, because it is recognised before it is judged, should be<br />
analysed first.<br />
(b) Judgement is made on the true as something given; the true does not<br />
originate in judgement. So judgement is not prior. Therefore, in following<br />
Frege‘s argument, the true should be analysed first.<br />
(i) The true.<br />
Frege: ‗Truth is obviously so basic and simple that the reduction to<br />
something even simpler is impossible.‘<br />
Here Frege is denying the correspondence theory of truth: that<br />
cognition is a picture of a world of facts, and that truth l<strong>ie</strong>s in the<br />
correspondence of this picture with the state of affairs. Frege argues that the<br />
truth of the correspondence could be known only if it is the case that the<br />
correspondence is true. That is, x is a true reference to y only if x is a true<br />
reference to y. Here the cognitive picture, x, must be prior to the state of<br />
affairs, y. Therefore, the truth of the cognitive picture must be tested by some<br />
other means.<br />
But, according to F, truth cannot be defined: the objective relations<br />
which obtain between a thought and a truth cannot be described. For in order<br />
to do so, the word ‗true‘ would appear in the thought and so make a<br />
contribution to the thought itself.<br />
Note that this is the empiricist correspondence theory, but now<br />
elaborated, and rejected, in terms of thought (cognitive picture) and the<br />
judgement concerning the truth of that thought.<br />
Of this F says: ‗Thus the word ―true‖ seems to make possible the<br />
impossible, namely to make that which corresponds to the assertive force<br />
appear to be contributing to the thought. And this attempt, though it fails – or,<br />
more correctly, because it fails – points to what is peculiar to logic.‘<br />
The peculiarity of logic is that an assertion of the truth of a thought can<br />
be made, even though this assertion cannot be made to correspond to the truth<br />
of the thought about which the assertion is made.<br />
It would seem then, as assertion equals judgement, that the judgement<br />
concerning the true is not related immediately to the thought itself, about<br />
which the assertion is made, but only mediately. That is, prior – and<br />
immediate – conditions are to be found in the nature of judgement which make<br />
possible the correctness of a judgement concerning the true.<br />
This means that while the true is objective and distinct from the act of<br />
judgement, the capacity to recognise – and know – the true must l<strong>ie</strong> in the act<br />
of judgement and not in the true itself. Even so, that there is the true, as such,<br />
cannot be proven simply by the fact that it is possible to recognise and know<br />
it.<br />
Hello... Professor...<br />
Uh? You‘re late going over, White. It‘s... uh... after two... Have the liver... if<br />
there‘s any left. They‘re peeling the fish off the tray... Uh...<br />
Liver? . .I...<br />
They can‘t do too much damage to the liver... cooked in some kind of sauce...<br />
Been away yet?<br />
34
No. Not yet... We...<br />
Waiting for the weather to improve, uh? Bloody country... Sodden... Rots<br />
everything. No wonder they‘re half wild... Moving statues now... uh?<br />
Credulity...<br />
Uh?<br />
It‘s what they bel<strong>ie</strong>ve... what they expect... Professor...<br />
Yes, yes. That‘s it... In a quarry, according to the papers. Middle of nowhere...<br />
See anything there... Hu, hu... Well, it‘s harmless anyway... Religion... Not like their<br />
politics... Well, have a good holiday... Get some sun...<br />
Goodbye, Professor...<br />
Oh, White... By the way... Do you have a title for this paper yet?<br />
No, Professor. Not yet.<br />
Uh... leaving it till after the holidays? Good idea... But look, White, remember<br />
it‘s a History Department thing, won‘t you? You were suggested because you‘re an<br />
ideas man... Uh?<br />
It‘s supposed to be on the history of ideas, Professor...<br />
Uh? Yes... These memorial lectures...<br />
... It‘s a fairly wide subject...<br />
Mmh... No reason to take it too seriously, I suppose... But... Look, White...<br />
don‘t use it as a platform for some of your political ideas... Remember it‘s a History<br />
thing...<br />
Yes... The history of ideas, Professor...<br />
Uh?... Yes... Anyway, go and have your lunch, White... I daresay you won‘t<br />
make a fool of yourself... Historians are not fools...<br />
The true, therefore, is irreducible and indefinable.<br />
(ii) Judgement.<br />
According to F, I judge that what I recognise as true is independent of<br />
my recognition of its truth.<br />
Judgement is not an act of predication; it is an act of assertion.<br />
Judgement, F argues, always recognises something as true. That is, the only<br />
function of judgement is to assert the true. The only assertion that can be made<br />
is that something is true.<br />
Judgement/assertion is inseparable from the true.<br />
F: The act of judgement is not an act of affirmation or denial. The act<br />
of judgement does not order statements. The act of judgement is always the<br />
grasping of a complete thought. ‗Even grasping a thought is not creating a<br />
thought, nor is it the establishing of an order among its parts.‘ This means that<br />
in negative propositions, we grasp the thought with its parts already in a<br />
definite order: we do not destroy the thought.<br />
One two four six... Yes?<br />
Dan. Hello.<br />
Charley...<br />
35
You took so long to answer...<br />
I was finishing a sentence... I...<br />
Oh... I won‘t be a minute... We‘ll have a visitor this evening.<br />
For dinner?<br />
No. Afterwards... Will you get some coffee... The Café blend...<br />
Who is it?<br />
Maire MacMahon.<br />
Ah... Maire.<br />
She rang at lunchtime. She wants to see Brian... She said something about<br />
going away... Do you know anything?<br />
No... But I‘m not surprised... She‘s worked herself into a blind alley...<br />
But, Dan, she has so much. The last time I spoke to here she was quite pleased<br />
with the salary she‘s got from the Employment Board... It‘s the civil service... She<br />
was even a little overwhelmed... And she‘s doing that research. Clery has offered to<br />
transfer her to the pee aitch dee register...<br />
Still a blind alley, Charley...<br />
How? Everyone says she‘s been very lucky... So many are struggling to get<br />
even temporary positions, Dan...<br />
No one has offered to marry her, Charley... Don‘t you see that?<br />
Are you serious? But she... doesn‘t... she‘s never tr<strong>ie</strong>d... Oh... you know what I<br />
mean...<br />
Trevor Kelly? Paddy Russell?<br />
Oh that... No one took that seriously... She‘s...<br />
Not their style? Yes...<br />
And you...<br />
Not my style...<br />
I heard that you once drooled over her breasts, Dan...<br />
Huh? I was drunk, Charley... Up to my eyes in research...<br />
Still, Dan... No smoke...<br />
Ha... I admit it. I admit it. She has a wonderful bosom...<br />
Not the word you used, I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve...<br />
True, true... But I dislike intellectual women who uglify themselves...<br />
Is that so? I always thought you disliked intellectual women, period.<br />
What about you, Charley? You‘re intellectual...<br />
And...<br />
Not uglif<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
Thank you.<br />
What time is she coming at?<br />
About eight.<br />
I‘ll be home before six, then.<br />
Good. See you, darling... Don‘t work too hard.<br />
I won‘t. Goodbye, sweetheart... Kiss.<br />
Kiss kiss...<br />
According to F, there are two kinds of judgements, (a) those which are<br />
justif<strong>ie</strong>d by inference, and (b) those which are justif<strong>ie</strong>d non-inferentially or<br />
which require no justification.<br />
36
(a) These judgements are what Kant called synthetic judgements. F<br />
distinguishes between the ‗psychological‘ and ‗logical‘ elements in such<br />
judgements. On one hand, psychology deals with ideas, which are subjective<br />
mental phenomena, while on the other logic is concerned with objective<br />
thought. (Cf distinction above between ideas and thoughts.) Now, according to<br />
F, while judgements are causally determined, not all such causes are justifying<br />
reasons, that is, to describe how one comes to consider something true is not<br />
the same as giving a proof of it. Frege: ‗The history of the discovery of a<br />
mathematical or natural law cannot replace its rational justification.‘<br />
Such rational justification of synthetic judgements is called inference,<br />
and is undertaken by means of logic. According to F, logic deals with truth by<br />
means of laws of right inference. These laws are the subject matter of logic,<br />
and F indicates their fundamental characteristics:<br />
(1) They are independent of our recognition.<br />
(2) They can be exactly the same for different human beings.<br />
A number of points here:<br />
(1) means that these laws are complete in themselves;<br />
(2) means that they possess ‗identity‘.<br />
Again:<br />
(1) indicates that they are true;<br />
(2) indicates that they are objective.<br />
Thus (as might be expected), other than indicating the area in which<br />
logic is to be appl<strong>ie</strong>d, and how (right inference), the analysis of judgement<br />
type (a) shows that it reduces to an analysis of judgement type (b), that is,<br />
judgements which are justif<strong>ie</strong>d non-inferentially or which require no<br />
justification.<br />
F says that type (b) judgements are the concern of ‗epistemology‘.<br />
Hence: epistemology is more fundamental than logic: that is, it is prior<br />
to logic;<br />
and, epistemology deals with the true and the objective.<br />
(b) While F does not say this, it can be inferred that judgements which require<br />
no justification or whose justification does not rest on other judgements are<br />
judgements that are immediately true and objective.<br />
(Note: This means that there are judgements which have the<br />
characteristics of the ‗objects‘ about which judgements are asserted. If such<br />
‗objects‘ and the judgements about them are seen to be the same things, then<br />
the conclusion must be that judgements are made about judgements!)<br />
Damn... The coffee!<br />
This can‘t be right!<br />
37
Dan?<br />
Yes... Sorry I‘m late. I walked out from town.<br />
Oh... What time ...<br />
Quarter to seven.<br />
It‘s alright. Everything is ready...<br />
Mmm?<br />
There‘s plenty of time...<br />
I got the coffee...<br />
Good.<br />
It was closed. But Barney was in the shop.<br />
What a striking face he has.<br />
Oh yes. I always see him in a black mantle...<br />
Black?<br />
Yes. Like Eriugena on the five pound note.<br />
Hah... But that‘s an ink drawing...<br />
I know. Perhaps it should be red... Even so, black suits him.<br />
Mn... That‘s true. He usually wears a dark suit.<br />
Anyway, he got one of the girls to fix the coffee for me.<br />
Good... I thought that might happen. So I wasn‘t depending on it.<br />
Did you? I had every intention of leaving College at five.<br />
But the notes...<br />
Yes... I seem to be reaching the conclusion that judgements are about<br />
judgements... That can‘t be right.<br />
Surely it‘s not, Dan... Judgements are made about things.<br />
Yes. That‘s the usual idea... But what is a judgement in itself?<br />
A decision. A choice, perhaps.<br />
But how does one know it is true?<br />
Because... of what one knows to begin with.<br />
And that prior knowledge is the product of earl<strong>ie</strong>r judgements. How can you<br />
know that your first judgements are true?<br />
One‘s parents or teachers?<br />
Yes. But can you remember your first judgements?<br />
Of course not... But I do remember Daddy correcting me when I called a plane<br />
a bird.<br />
Yes... But it is clear that it‘s not an historical problem. I mean, the problem of<br />
origins merely hides the problem of the phenomenon itself.<br />
Mmm... Dan, this is ready. We had better eat now.<br />
Yes... What? Sure. I‘ll be ready in a moment.<br />
Wash here... I‘ll put it out.<br />
Okay...<br />
You‘re getting so involved, Dan. Do you have to go into it so deeply?<br />
Perhaps... Oh, I can‘t know till afterwards. It happens all the time, Charley...<br />
But... No... There is something in this. Either language is objective or it‘s not. It‘s the<br />
key. Whichever is true of all language will be true of all communication.<br />
Communication? Dan, what has that got to do with your paper? It‘s supposed<br />
to be about the history of ideas.<br />
Yes. But do ideas, as such, have histor<strong>ie</strong>s in any meaningful sense, Charley?<br />
Perhaps they are only phantas<strong>ie</strong>s... I mean that they are not objective.<br />
Phantas<strong>ie</strong>s? Like dreams?<br />
38
Perhaps... Your seal, eh?<br />
Do you really think so? I mean the seal was terribly real... but, Dan, you made<br />
me realise that not only had I not seen it, but it wasn‘t important whether you had seen<br />
it or not.<br />
Yes. That‘s it... But do you also see, Charley, that the problem also throws the<br />
objectivity of history into doubt?<br />
Ah... Ah... Why write history then, Dan?<br />
Indeed. Why? This is nice, Charley. What is it?<br />
Rosemary... It‘s supposed to be from the South of France... It is tasty.<br />
Yes. It is that.<br />
I‘m glad you like it... Anyway, why write history? Tell me. It‘s interesting.<br />
Well, put it this way. When do people become most preoccup<strong>ie</strong>d with history?<br />
Mm... Let me think... In other words, what are the great periods of history<br />
writing... Not the Middle Ages... The Renaissance... The last hundred and fifty years...<br />
Ah... Change... Of course... To defend or justify the old order.<br />
Yes. When that order is threatened or losing relevance... You see, Charley,<br />
history is a kind of mirror for a way of life. In a time of crisis the mirror becomes<br />
dominant as the actual culture is weakened in some way. And that mirror is an ideal<br />
image of the culture.<br />
Oh yes, Dan. I see it... No objectivity.<br />
Yes. And if you remember that history exists solely in words... like a novel...<br />
then the problem of the nature of history reduces to the problem of language... I mean<br />
the problem of the objectivity of language.<br />
Mmm... I see now... It is interesting... And what do you think so far, Dan?<br />
No. Not yet, Charley... But I‘ll tell you as soon as I know... If I ever know.<br />
But, Dan... What will Professor Dodgeson think of that? The History<br />
Department will surely resent it.<br />
Oh, I was talking to Dodgeson today. Or, rather, he was talking to me... Do<br />
you know what his main fear is?<br />
That you will be too abstract?<br />
No... I think he hopes I will, and so make a fool of myself... No... He suspects<br />
I‘m going to use the lecture as a political platform. You know... broadcast the lefty<br />
stuff they teach in the social sc<strong>ie</strong>nces.<br />
And will you? I mean you read a lot of that kind of material.<br />
Hhh... Everyone in College is left of the History Department... Even Classics...<br />
Anyway, no... In any case, just because they talk about soc<strong>ie</strong>ty is no reason to suppose<br />
they are socialists... Liberals, perhaps... Actually, most of them are good liberals, with<br />
their hearts in the right place.<br />
You‘re being cynical, Dan.<br />
Perhaps... but liberalism has been bankrupt since eighteen forty eight.<br />
And communism. Is that not bankrupt?<br />
Yes. Since nineteen thirty nine... or fifty six.<br />
But what about Stalin‘s purges?<br />
What about them?<br />
He murdered thousands in the thirt<strong>ie</strong>s!<br />
That‘s true... But, Charley, keep that in proportion... Every country has done<br />
that... The French aristocracy, the American Indian... Cromwell... the eye ar aye... But<br />
another point, Charley... McCarthyism... it destroyed the lives of thousands... They<br />
weren‘t shot or sent to Gulags... But what they lost in terms of American values was<br />
about the same... Can you see that? Death may not be the worst punishment...<br />
39
Dan!<br />
Oh, I‘m not trying to justify what happened in Russia. But it‘s not simply a<br />
moral matter. There‘s a level of realpolitik that must be taken into account. Otherwise<br />
it is only a prescriptive idealism, not political analysis... Anyway, it still goes on,<br />
Charley... Argentine and Chile. Afghanistan... the North...<br />
But there are values, Dan.<br />
Yes, Charley... But still it goes on... Don‘t hide behind values... That won‘t<br />
change the world.<br />
Oh Dan... Sometimes, you know, you can be so shocking.<br />
Hhh... Don‘t blame me, Charley... Anyway, it didn‘t spoil our dinner... I<br />
enjoyed it... You must make that dish again...<br />
Oh... You can be so hard.<br />
Hard? But it‘s only knowledge... words... Charley... It would have been<br />
different no doubt if I had been involved in one of those purges... But it‘s academic...<br />
After all, history is full of it... Did that ever put you off your food?<br />
No... but at the table, Dan.<br />
I suppose so... I remember... we had a drink-up after the ser<strong>ie</strong>s of lectures on<br />
the Black Death. We must have speculated on it for most of the night.<br />
And?<br />
It never became real enough to upset me... whole cit<strong>ie</strong>s wiped out... rats, the<br />
swellings... everything... There must have been terrible anguish... But it just wasn‘t<br />
real, Charley.<br />
Was any of it ever real, Dan?<br />
Yes... I‘ll tell you... The random violence of a conquering army... That... And<br />
you?<br />
Rape... of course...<br />
That says something about us, Charley.<br />
What we fear might happen?<br />
In part... But also that it has never happened to us as a... race.<br />
Ascendancy?<br />
You, perhaps... We were just good loyal prod peasants...<br />
Ugh... Don‘t use that word, Dan... It‘s so denigrating.<br />
Middle class? Hah... but you know what I mean, don‘t you?<br />
Yes.<br />
No fear of famine or disease...<br />
Enslavement...<br />
Yes... But also, Charley... it‘s worth remembering... also no fear of losing<br />
power or wealth...<br />
What? What do you mean?<br />
Status, yes... Actual political power or great wealth... No.<br />
I don‘t agree... that‘s precisely what we lost, Dan...<br />
Do you really bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that, Charley? The Ascendancy never had real power.<br />
They were a caretaker class... If they had stayed in England they would have been<br />
nobod<strong>ie</strong>s... They were not like the Normans...<br />
Oh, Dan, not that...<br />
The Normans conquered and established their own power. Bureaucratic arm<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
did it for the English establishment in the seventeenth century and a bureaucratic<br />
Ascendancy was put in to maintain order afterwards... They could flog a peasant or<br />
transport him... but the fighting Irish... they were gone.<br />
Dan! I didn‘t know you were patriotic.<br />
40
No... It‘s academic...<br />
But the way you put it... Nationalistic...<br />
No!... No, not nationalistic... I‘m Irish... You are Irish... Go anywhere and we<br />
are treated as Irish... Remember Cambridge... And... remember... it was an advantage<br />
in France...<br />
Well, the only place where we are not treated as Irish is Ireland...<br />
And America, according to Keith Jackson... They couldn‘t wait to make him a<br />
Mason.<br />
Yes... The Middle Nation, as they said in the Middle Ages... Oh... Is that<br />
Maire already?<br />
It‘s five to.<br />
The place... The table... Brian...<br />
Go and feed him, Charley... I‘ll clear up here...<br />
But...<br />
Go on... Better not leave her company soon after she arrives...<br />
I won‘t be long, Dan...<br />
Take your time...<br />
Make coffee if you think it wise... There are some things here... Yes... Biscuits<br />
should do...<br />
Don‘t rush, Charley. I‘ll handle it... Go on now...<br />
Okay... And Dan... don‘t tease her so...<br />
Hhh!... Don‘t blame me... Hello, Maire.<br />
Dan!<br />
Your bicycle...<br />
It‘s there...<br />
Put it under the hedge...<br />
It‘s locked.<br />
Hhh. Hardly any need for that... This is a decent neighbourhood...<br />
Good. But I locked it anyway.<br />
I mean that wreckage lets the place down, Maire.<br />
To its proper level, Doctor Dan... Now, are you going to let me in? I‘ve come<br />
to see the heir.<br />
Come in... The heir is being fed by the dam... Throw your clothes anywhere.<br />
And you?<br />
I‘ve got to clean up... Come in to the kitchen...<br />
Rosemary... Lamb?<br />
It was delicious... You dry.<br />
I‘ll wash.<br />
You won‘t... You‘re not familiar with the idiosyncras<strong>ie</strong>s of this kitchen.<br />
Are you?<br />
More than you are... Here... It‘s clean... don‘t fuss.<br />
The pattern...<br />
Mmm... Let me... Ah, the cock... From the Canar<strong>ie</strong>s, I think... Notice the<br />
Iberian influences.<br />
Bold... Universal influence, if you ask me.<br />
Well, that‘s what they dry dishes with there...<br />
Good idea... Useful.<br />
But I prefer the flaming hearts... There... At the corners.<br />
Martyrdom, Dan? I wouldn‘t have thought so.<br />
No. That‘s the bleeding heart. You should know.<br />
41
Hardly. I don‘t care for anatomical icons.<br />
The whole body or nothing sort of thing? Here... It‘s hot.<br />
No. Christus Rex... If I have to... Where will I put it?<br />
Oh... on the table... There... Very French... I thought you preferred the German<br />
thing. You know, blood and gore... explicit detail.<br />
Nothing Protestant, Dan... The Aufklerung...<br />
Ah, I forgot... Munich... I‘d prefer Chartres, actually.<br />
The West Door?<br />
Yes... That one.<br />
He sits within the vesica... Ah Dan... I didn‘t know...<br />
There... Come on inside... Do you want coffee yet? Oh... alright... It‘s another<br />
universal idea, I suppose...<br />
Hah! Dan... Don‘t pout... It‘s nothing to be ashamed of... Being a man, I mean.<br />
Do you want coffee, Maire?<br />
Not yet... I‘ll wait until Charlotte comes down... Play me some music.<br />
Okay... But there‘s no Handel or Haydn.<br />
Bach?<br />
Not tonight... How about Fauré? Piano.<br />
Play the Monteverdi...<br />
But you have a copy of that.<br />
Mmm... Si dolce e il tormento... This room is perfect for it.<br />
Okay... Make yourself comfortable somewhere...<br />
What?<br />
What what?<br />
I‘ll turn the record... You‘ll hear your si dolce.<br />
Dan, I‘ve rarely seen anyone so moved by music as you are.<br />
Hh... I suppose it begs no questions.<br />
Always an answer, Doctor Dan.<br />
Shut up and listen.<br />
Mmm...<br />
There now.<br />
Beautiful...<br />
The light... How sensitive it makes the eyes... How is the Employment Board?<br />
Ah that... It‘s almost organised... Are you interested?<br />
Kind of... Not in itself... What you have managed to do.<br />
I‘ve set up the library anyway. Now I‘m working out an information system<br />
for the regional offices. You know, access to the library. Photocop<strong>ie</strong>s... microfilm...<br />
It‘ll be up to them to use it...<br />
Circularising bibliographical material?<br />
Yes, to an extent... New articles especially.<br />
It‘s an ach<strong>ie</strong>vement... Not many get a chance to set up a whole new library.<br />
But will they use it?<br />
42
Will they?<br />
They have no excuse. They have access. All they have to do is send for what<br />
they need.<br />
Expense?<br />
Well covered. Ee ee cee grants... Plenty of money.<br />
You don‘t seem too pleased with yourself.<br />
Oh... I‘ve done it before.<br />
Yes. I remember... But this is on a national scale, Maire. It‘s an ach<strong>ie</strong>vement.<br />
It‘s done now... Charlotte!<br />
Maire! How are you?<br />
Oh, you look so well!... Mmm...<br />
Mmm... you‘ve managed to get some sun...<br />
Cycling... Weather-beaten...<br />
Ha... Good exercise. Especially when you spend the day stuck in an office...<br />
Have you had coffee? I heard the music.<br />
No. But I‘ll fix it now. Are you ready?<br />
I‘ll do it, Dan... Yes... Will you have coffee, Maire?<br />
Mmm.<br />
Do you want a drink? You, Charley?<br />
I don‘t know... Maire?<br />
Not gin anyway.<br />
There‘s a bottle of P<strong>ie</strong>sporter.<br />
Do you still have some of that?<br />
Oh, Tom Spencer gave us a dozen of them last Christmas... Don‘t you like it?<br />
I‘m surprised you haven‘t drunk it all yet.<br />
There haven‘t been many occasions, Maire.<br />
Oh good! This is an occasion.<br />
Hah...<br />
You came to survey the heir.<br />
How is he, Charlotte?<br />
Lively. Big appetite.<br />
Another White, I daresay.<br />
He‘s got fair hair. The Whites have brown hair. Mousy... A touch of auburn at<br />
best... I‘ll get the wine.<br />
Your side, Charlotte?<br />
I don‘t know. A lot of children have fair hair. Daddy‘s family were sandy<br />
red... you know, very Scottish. But mother says there was blond in the Richards. But<br />
I‘m brown... Though Dan says there‘s blond in it... Oh it‘s So hard to tell at this age,<br />
Maire...<br />
Can I see him, Charlotte?<br />
Bring him down, Charley.<br />
He‘s asleep.<br />
We won‘t waken him.<br />
Do, Charlotte.<br />
Very well...<br />
Do you have a sense of ach<strong>ie</strong>vement, Dan?<br />
It‘s hard to say... Nnh!... Damn. I forgot the glasses.<br />
I know where they are.<br />
Okay... When I first saw him I had such a strong sense that he was mine...<br />
Ours, really... Charley looked so proud and... so satisf<strong>ie</strong>d... Here... Don‘t guzzle it yet.<br />
43
I don‘t have your habits.<br />
Too bad... Anyway, your health, Maire...<br />
To you, father Dan.<br />
Ah... God but it‘s nice.<br />
Mmm...<br />
Here... Top up...<br />
Thanks... And now?<br />
Now? Oh, he‘s someone else now. It‘s surprising how quickly an infant<br />
reveals his personality... With Brian, it‘s the way he dislikes having his face washed.<br />
But you can kiss his cheek... even his lips... but don‘t touch his nose. He hates that...<br />
Do you see what I mean?<br />
Yes... I wouldn‘t have thought... Oh, here he is now.<br />
Asleep?<br />
Mmm... Look.<br />
Oh, he‘s so beautiful...<br />
Replete...<br />
How he clutches his thumbs within his fingers...<br />
He always does that. I don‘t know why.<br />
You must be so proud of him, Charlotte. He‘s so beautiful.<br />
Mmm... That‘s because he‘s asleep, Maire.<br />
His skin...<br />
Yes. Nothing like it on earth.<br />
He‘s so sweet, Charlotte.<br />
Yes... He‘s very even-tempered... But, Maire... he‘s greedy.<br />
Ha!... Another White...<br />
Another baby... They can‘t help but be honest... Put him on the sofa, Charley...<br />
Let‘s toast him...<br />
No... I‘ll hold him, Charlotte.<br />
If you want to... Here... Ah... Yes... Like that... cradle his head...<br />
Ah, Maire, it...<br />
What, Dan?<br />
You hold him very well, Maire.<br />
Thanks, Charlotte. But he‘s so... Oh... He‘s smiling.<br />
There. He likes you, Maire.<br />
But he‘s asleep, Dan.<br />
What has that got to do with it, Charley? He has a thousand senses... He‘s<br />
extraordinarily sensitive to mood, Maire. Do you know that? It makes you wonder<br />
what we destroy in children in order to make adults of them.<br />
Dan...<br />
It‘s true, Charley.<br />
I‘ll take him now, Maire.<br />
Destroy, Dan?<br />
Put him on the sofa, Charley... Perhaps too strong, Maire... Limitations... The<br />
limitations of the adult world...<br />
But it‘s necessary, Dan.<br />
Perhaps... But there‘s no future in that... Here, Charley... Let‘s toast Brian.<br />
To Brian White... Now, Dan, to Charlotte, his mother.<br />
Yes... To you, Charley... Thanks, sweetheart... Here. Let me top you up...<br />
Here‘s to his future, Charley, Maire... To Brian, may he have riches and long life...<br />
Riches and long life? How quaint. Is it a White custom?<br />
44
In a way, Maire... Charley?<br />
A kind of joke, Maire.<br />
Well, here‘s to riches and long life...<br />
Yes... and wisdom.<br />
And wisdom... And finally, Charlotte, to Dan.<br />
Yes, to you, darling. Thank you.<br />
Lovely... And we‘ll dedicate the rest of the bottle to Maire... To her future<br />
happiness...<br />
Thank you... Thank you both.<br />
You are welcome, Maire.<br />
Yes, Maire... It was good of you to come.<br />
Oh... I‘m so happy for you both... And for Brian... You will be so good to<br />
him... I know it.<br />
I hope so, Maire.<br />
Yes... I‘ll make the coffee...<br />
Can I help, Charlotte?<br />
There‘s no need, Maire... Sit down... Both of you. I‘ll be back in a few<br />
minutes...<br />
Ah... No. Don‘t worry, Maire. It‘s not that easy to waken him... No. Do... Sit<br />
beside him.<br />
He is sweet, Dan.<br />
Yes. He is.<br />
His hair is so soft... Dan, Charlotte cut her hair. Why?<br />
I don‘t know, Maire... Perhaps she‘ll let it grow again.<br />
You‘re not sure?<br />
I expect she will.<br />
Strange.<br />
Why?<br />
I mean, it‘s a sign of gr<strong>ie</strong>f... Why should she do it, Dan?<br />
Gr<strong>ie</strong>f? Yes... Is that it? Here, let‘s finish the bottle.<br />
Charlotte?<br />
No. She won‘t drink any more... There... Your good health, Maire.<br />
And yours, Dan.<br />
Perhaps she feels she has lost something, Maire.<br />
You mean Brian?<br />
Something like that.<br />
Mmm... Yes... oh yes.<br />
You can feel it?<br />
Only physically... Dan!... Oh yes... There...<br />
I thought so... But the mother must let go sometime... She can‘t follow it all<br />
the way down.<br />
Down?<br />
Yes. Down... She has to let go...<br />
They never do... We women never let go.<br />
I‘m well aware of that, Maire... I‘ll play some more music... Anything in<br />
mind?<br />
Charlotte...<br />
Not an oratorio, Maire. It would crush me... What about Schwarzkopf?<br />
The Strauss songs?<br />
Yes. Charley likes them.<br />
45
men.<br />
Yes. Do.<br />
Good... Here. The last drink... To tenacious womankind, Maire.<br />
Ha... And to the illusions of mankind.<br />
Illusions of mankind?<br />
Oh, Charlotte. Dan thinks women are tenacious... They don‘t let go of their<br />
I‘ll pour, Charley, if you like.<br />
Thanks, Dan... But illusions, Maire?<br />
Oh, men think there is somewhere else, Charlotte.<br />
Other than where?<br />
Than the womb.<br />
Metaphorically, of course... Help yourself, Maire.<br />
Thanks... metaphorically, of course... But still true.<br />
Maire is playing Mother Goddess tonight.<br />
Dan... Don‘t... Not tonight.<br />
It‘s alright, Charlotte. I‘m used to it.<br />
Sit down, Charley... Here‘s your coffee.<br />
No... I don‘t think I‘ll have any... I...<br />
Charley, what‘s wrong?<br />
Nothing... I‘m tired, that‘s all...<br />
Perhaps I should go, Charlotte. It is getting late...<br />
No. Finish your coffee... Eat something... Do... I‘ll take Brian back upstairs.<br />
I‘ll do that, Charley... You stay where you are... Come on, little one. Come to<br />
your daddy...<br />
I‘m sorry, Maire. It‘s taking longer to recover than I thought... Strauss?<br />
Yes. Dan put it on for you.<br />
So good of him... He is very kind, Maire.<br />
Yes, I can see that... He‘s very excited about Brian.<br />
Yes. But he doesn‘t notice the extent of the effect on him. He‘s working so<br />
hard on that paper.<br />
The FitzHerbert Lecture?<br />
Yes. I think he is making it difficult for himself.<br />
He was always like that, Charlotte. He lost himself in his research.<br />
That was different. He had no choice then... No. This time he is doing it<br />
deliberately.<br />
Brian?<br />
Yes. He has affected both of us deeply. More deeply than we seem to realise.<br />
He feels he has been superseded, is that it?<br />
Yes. And it‘s so hard to reassure him... You know, Maire, other than an old<br />
uncle in Waterford, he has no family.<br />
You and Brian?<br />
Yes, of course. But he feels responsible for us... I think he feels that there is no<br />
one above him, to feel responsible for him.<br />
Of course. His parents...<br />
Yes.<br />
And you?<br />
A bout of postnatal depression, really... Especially in the evening.<br />
You should have told me... I could have come in the afternoon.<br />
Oh, no. You did the right thing... You did make an occasion tonight... I‘m glad<br />
you came... Ah, Dan.<br />
46
Sleeping like a log, Charley... While I was carrying him up, he reached out<br />
and clutched my nose... What do you think of that? Didn‘t waken.<br />
He must have heard you talking about his nose, Dan.<br />
I bet he did, Maire... Will you have some tea, Charley?<br />
No... Look, I‘ll go up... I must get up at three to feed him again.<br />
I‘ll go...<br />
No, Maire... Have some more coffee... Dan... Stay... You must come for<br />
dinner the next time, Maire...<br />
Yes... We‘ll organise a party... Two or three others...<br />
Yes. That would be nice...<br />
Goodnight, then, Maire... Mmm.<br />
Mmm... Sleep well, Charlotte.<br />
Yes.<br />
I‘ll come up soon, Charley.<br />
Yes. Take your time... Goodnight.<br />
Goodnight...<br />
It took a lot out of her, Maire. She was fifteen hours in labour. The rings under<br />
her eyes... I don‘t think she expected that.<br />
She looks quite well physically, Dan... Charlotte thinks it‘s a bout of<br />
depression.<br />
Mmm... The breast-feeding. She insists on doing it... She‘s not getting enough<br />
rest.<br />
It may satisfy Charlotte to do it. She seems so close to Brian.<br />
Oh yes. I don‘t doubt that... But he bites her, Maire. It distresses her... She<br />
can‘t stop him... I wish she would bottle-feed him.<br />
But she wants to breast-feed him, Dan, doesn‘t she?<br />
It‘s only a fashion... Next year it will be the bottle again.<br />
No. It‘s deeper than that, Dan.<br />
Would you endure the discomfort, Maire?<br />
I don‘t have a baby, Dan... And I‘m hardly likely to...<br />
Aw, Maire... I told you what to do years ago. Get into your party dress, put on<br />
your face, and go to Leeson Street.<br />
Hhh... I remember... They‘re not much, Dan.<br />
How do you know? You might find just the right man there.<br />
I doubt it... It‘s alright for a man... But men run a mile when they hear that the<br />
woman is highly qualif<strong>ie</strong>d – and highly paid.<br />
And getting more qualif<strong>ie</strong>d... Are you going to transfer?<br />
No... I‘ll do the Masters.<br />
But you ought to get out and meet... well, meet other men... The circle you are<br />
in is too narrow... Anyway, they‘re nearly all marr<strong>ie</strong>d, aren‘t they?<br />
Yes.<br />
You spend your time doting on other people‘s children... Aunt<strong>ie</strong> Maire.<br />
Oh... Dan... I think I‘ll go back to Germany.<br />
Work in a library there?<br />
I don‘t know.<br />
Break out... Why not? But what about the post you have? It‘s a good one,<br />
Maire.<br />
The taxes are becoming ridiculous... I‘ll have to buy a house to get some of it<br />
back...<br />
But...<br />
47
I don‘t need a house, Dan... I‘ll go now... The record has finished...<br />
Okay... Where‘s your cardigan?<br />
In the hall.<br />
I hope it‘s not raining.<br />
There‘s a mac in my bag.<br />
It‘s heavy...<br />
I was in the library.<br />
When will you have it written?<br />
By Christmas.<br />
You could always do the doctorate, Maire.<br />
Maybe... Later... It‘s not raining.<br />
No... There are stars even... Look... That‘s Jupiter...<br />
Dan...<br />
Mmm?<br />
Goodnight... Charlotte won‘t mind.<br />
How chaste, Maire... Thank you... I told you. Sit in the bar in Jury‘s or<br />
something. You never know...<br />
Not my style. I leave that to the secretar<strong>ie</strong>s... Goodnight...<br />
Goodnight... And light your lamp!<br />
Huh!... That would hardly make any difference...<br />
Mmm.<br />
It‘s okay. Go back to sleep.<br />
Dan?<br />
Yes, sweetheart... Here... Let me put my arms around you.<br />
Oh, Dan... Dan...<br />
Hush, sweetheart... Sleep.<br />
He is so heavy... Mmm... I‘ll be glad when it‘s over...<br />
Shh...<br />
Dan? Dan, I‘m sorry I said it was a joke.<br />
What was?<br />
The prophecy.<br />
Oh that... Don‘t take it too seriously, Charley.<br />
No... Brian... It was Brian, Dan... Don‘t you see?<br />
Brian? Oh...<br />
What?<br />
Goosepimples...<br />
Yes... You see, Dan, don‘t you? I mean if you let things happen...<br />
Like opening a channel?<br />
Yes... Like that... Yes...<br />
Mmm... I understand...<br />
Good... And, Dan...<br />
Yes?<br />
Maire is right... You know that...<br />
About what?<br />
Only she shouldn‘t say it... Goodnight, Dan...<br />
But... Oh... Goodnight, Charley...<br />
48
WEDNESDAY<br />
Judgement is an action. Such an action has two elements: (A) as a<br />
means to an end, it expresses an intention or purpose, (B) as an event, it has an<br />
objective content. While an action can be indicated, the ‗act-ness‘ itself cannot<br />
be isolated from either (A) or (B). Therefore, it cannot be the subject of an<br />
action, either as an intention or as a content. Thus, there cannot be a<br />
judgement of a judgement, for a judgement, as an action, cannot of itself be<br />
said to be true or objective; only the expressiveness or content of an action can<br />
be said to be true or objective.<br />
What Frege says is this: ‗What I recognise as true I judge to be<br />
independent of my recognition of its truth.‘ Judgement is the simple and<br />
abiding knowledge that the true is objective and not subjective, that it is, as F<br />
says elsewhere, discovered and not created.<br />
Thus, (1) judgement is only one kind of action, the bringing to mind of<br />
the knowledge that the true is objective at the moment that a truth is<br />
recognised, and (2) all judgement is of the type (B), above. Specifically,<br />
judgement in itself requires no justification, for judgement is an action.<br />
But, according to (i) above, the true cannot be justif<strong>ie</strong>d either. It is<br />
simple and so not open to analysis. Moreover, the relations between a truth<br />
and a thought cannot be described. This means that, to the extent that the true<br />
is the end of judgement as an action, the true remains at the level of intention.<br />
It remains distinct from the content of the action, the thought, that is, the<br />
action as an event does not ‗embody‘ intention.<br />
The cause of this peculiar situation l<strong>ie</strong>s in F‘s refusal to allow that once<br />
the truth of a thought is recognised, the ‗true‘ becomes an element of the<br />
thought: that it becomes a true thought. But his refusal is correct. To judge that<br />
the statement ‗All men are mortal‘ is true is not to add the term ‗true‘ to the<br />
statement. The statement as the object of the act of judgement cannot<br />
‗embody‘ the intention of the act, which is to be aware that the true is<br />
objective. (Compare an action such as making an artefact, where the raw<br />
material comes to ‗embody‘ the intention as the finished object. Also the<br />
justification of a synthetic or complex statement, where the intention is<br />
expressed in the result of the analysis, that the statement is true. –<br />
Thus the kind of action that the act of judgement is, is unique.<br />
Generally, an action serves to express the intention motivating it, which<br />
appears objectively in the transformation of the content to which the action is<br />
appl<strong>ie</strong>d. Wood becomes a chair; a complex statement becomes a set of<br />
propositions, one or more of which is true. But while the act of judgement is<br />
appl<strong>ie</strong>d to a content, a thought, this content is not transformed so as to express<br />
the intention of the act of judgement. Yet – notice that all actions in<br />
embodying an intention can be said to have the true as their end: if a chair is<br />
49
the result of an action, it can be judged whether it is a ‗true‘ chair or not.<br />
What is a ‗true‘ chair? Correspondence theory, above: I must know<br />
already what a ‗true‘ chair is, and the true-ness of this knowledge must be<br />
independent of any actual chair. It is not that I have an ideal chair in my mind;<br />
it is simply that I am capable of knowing that truth exists, such that talk about<br />
a ‗true‘ chair is meaningful. That is, the true is what allows me to compare one<br />
chair – the ‗true‘ chair – with another and judge the latter as being true. But<br />
how do I know that the first chair is true? Because either I am told it is so and<br />
I accept that this is true or I establish specifications myself out of my needs.<br />
Actually, these two sources of knowledge reduce to 1. a true chair fits the<br />
specifications arising from the need for a chair and 2. I judge that this is true.<br />
Summary:<br />
a. Thoughts can be judged to be true.<br />
b. Truth is of judgements and not of thoughts.<br />
c. Truth establishes the objectivity of thoughts, but not of actual objects to<br />
which the thoughts refer.<br />
d. The objectivity of thoughts is their truth: but thoughts are not objective in<br />
themselves only the truth is objective.<br />
e.<br />
Oh... Come in!<br />
Dan...<br />
Tony... Is it that time? How are you?<br />
Hungry... It‘s ten to... Are you busy?<br />
Notes... Got lost in them... You‘re looking very well.<br />
Office gear. It‘s well for you academic types. You can dress as you want.<br />
You‘d want to see the students.<br />
I can imagine. Especially the girls... So these are the new offices. Not like<br />
New Square.<br />
Nor like MacBr<strong>ie</strong>n‘s office. Remember? I would be there now.<br />
Yes. Number six, four floors up. Pokey window overlooking Dame Street. I<br />
remember... You don‘t have much of a v<strong>ie</strong>w here.<br />
Junior staff. Only the senior staff get to look out at the Old Library.<br />
And the books, Dan. I didn‘t think you were a collector... Is it required?<br />
Oh those. Bought them from MacBr<strong>ie</strong>n when he left. Mostly rubbish. Too<br />
many secondary works.<br />
So... What are you working on? Truth?<br />
The FitzHerbert Lecture.<br />
Never heard of it.<br />
One of the History Department‘s memorial lectures. Dodgeson wants me to do<br />
it this year.<br />
Dodgeson? I thought you didn‘t like him.<br />
That‘s probably the reason.<br />
What‘s it about? Seventeenth century dissenters?<br />
No, for once. A topic in the history of ideas. Apparently, this FitzHerbert was<br />
a spenglerian. But most of the lectures have been on med<strong>ie</strong>val or reformation religious<br />
ideas. It seems to serve as a safety valve for those who need to speculate. You know,<br />
Joachim of Fiore, Nicholas of Cusa, and things like that. Anabaptism. Prophecy and<br />
50
millenarianism.<br />
The end of the world? Is that what you are working on? Truth and judgement?<br />
Good heavens no. Language mostly. At the moment, anyway. I‘m not sure<br />
what the topic will be. Perhaps something about culture.<br />
What has that to do with the history of ideas?<br />
Good question, Tony... Actually, the word culture just popped into my mind<br />
while I was answering you... Yes... Put it this way. The notion that ideas have a<br />
history impl<strong>ie</strong>s some kind of transmission of ideas over time. How is it done? Call the<br />
medium culture. This is the intellectual heritage of a soc<strong>ie</strong>ty... Transmission is by<br />
means of language. Now, let the word culture be the defining term. Culture then is,<br />
broadly, the ideas of a soc<strong>ie</strong>ty as conveyed by means of a language. There are three<br />
elements there, culture, ideas and language. Add two more, the actual world and men.<br />
Now ask the question, What kind of relations hold between these elements? The<br />
ultimate question will be, Is any term, or terms, fundamental?<br />
Very philosophical, Dan. What has it to do with politics?<br />
Ostensibly, none. But consider, Tony, the possible answer. From the point of<br />
v<strong>ie</strong>w of historians the constitution of the elements and or relations between them are<br />
changing continuously. Here it is impossible to discover truth, so that all knowledge<br />
appears to be what is called ideological and therefore nothing more than either<br />
illusion or a facade which hides the real nature of our actions.<br />
But, Dan, whatever about ideas and the like, surely men and the real world<br />
don‘t change? I mean, essentially.<br />
Well, you‘d have to show that essence, or essences. But in terms of our<br />
knowledge of men and his world, well, our knowledge has changed. For instance,<br />
there have been animist, theological, naturalist and sc<strong>ie</strong>ntific theor<strong>ie</strong>s about the<br />
world... as there have been about man. Where there are now sc<strong>ie</strong>ntific laws of nature,<br />
there once was a bel<strong>ie</strong>f in spiritual forces or divine omnipotence.<br />
But man is a constant, surely, Dan. I mean, man has always been what he is<br />
now. His feelings, mental capacit<strong>ie</strong>s, that sort of thing.<br />
What you are treating as a matter of fact is actually an expression of<br />
knowledge... or perhaps of bel<strong>ie</strong>f. Do you see that? And as knowledge or bel<strong>ie</strong>f that<br />
sort of thing is part of your culture... And you have already allowed that culture and<br />
ideas change.<br />
Ah... So? Truth?<br />
That‘s where my note-taking has brought me.<br />
But surely truth... or what you have said already... is also part of culture?<br />
Yes.<br />
And?<br />
And what?<br />
Culture changes, so truth changes. And... uh... well, all knowledge is illusion...<br />
Is that your thesis?<br />
Not quite, Tony... Look. Put it this way. Would you allow that the statement<br />
you have just made, that all knowledge is illusion, has the same meaning as the<br />
statement that there is no such thing as truth?<br />
Yes.<br />
Okay. Is that statement true or false? It can‘t be true, because it says that there<br />
is no such thing as truth. If it is false, then it seems to allow that there is such a thing<br />
as truth.<br />
This is very abstract, Dan.<br />
It is none the less real, Tony... Anyway, it‘s not a particularly original<br />
51
problem. The Greeks had a story about a Cretan who told them that all Cretans were<br />
liars. Was the Cretan to be bel<strong>ie</strong>ved or not?<br />
Even so, Dan, it‘s still very abstract and philosophical for the kind of paper<br />
they‘ll expect. Dodgeson will... Hey! You have it in for him... Is that what you are up<br />
to?<br />
No. I could just as easily make a fool of myself. If anything, that is what<br />
Dodgeson hopes... I mean, if he is being malicious.<br />
But it looks as though you are going to slate the whole history thing. You can‘t<br />
expect historians to like that.<br />
Oh, Tony, it‘s not a vendetta. There are eas<strong>ie</strong>r ways of doing that... You know,<br />
a snotty paper sending up one of their pet topics... No... Actually, Tony, it is a real<br />
problem. I think it has grown out of my stint here in politics. I mean, it is in politics<br />
that the... well, disjunction between theory and practice is most evident.<br />
Historiography is strictly speaking not a practice in the way politics is. Mmm?<br />
Yes... Well, good luck with it... It seems incredibly abstract to me...<br />
Hhh... Let‘s go to lunch anyway... And... sorry if I went on too much about it.<br />
Oh no... Dan. It‘s good to have the old brain shaken up now and again...<br />
Where will we go?<br />
The Staff Restaurant?<br />
I‘d rather not.<br />
I don‘t blame you.<br />
No. I don‘t particularly want to see my late teachers.<br />
Not many of them around this time of the year. Mostly visiting academics...<br />
No, it‘s the food... Though I usually have something cold.<br />
Let‘s find a small place off Grafton Street... We can have a roll or something...<br />
Or do you want a drink?<br />
No. Do you?<br />
No. I resist the liquid lunch thing. The afternoons are absolutely hell.<br />
Well, let‘s go... Is it raining?<br />
Not fifteen minutes ago. But bring your brolly.<br />
I have a slick somewhere... Yes... Let‘s go.<br />
Do you enjoy teaching politics, Dan?<br />
Yes. I‘m still developing the courses... No. This way. It will leave us at the<br />
door... It‘s more involved than history.<br />
But you were good at history. So many wanted to read your essays.<br />
Ha... Some of them I never got back.<br />
And when you were offered the chance to go to Cambridge... I was surprised<br />
you didn‘t accept.<br />
So was I at first. It seemed perverse... But I was really tired of looking back,<br />
Tony. I didn‘t want to spend my life looking back to the past.<br />
Perhaps you were tired of studying... I was.<br />
Not really. I wanted to do research. The degree didn‘t stretch me enough.<br />
Yes. I can bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that. And now?<br />
The thesis exhausted me. But I had to prepare the politics courses. Most of<br />
MacBr<strong>ie</strong>n‘s stuff was outdated and... well... rationalist in the way American academic<br />
thought can be. You know what I mean, reif<strong>ie</strong>d mental powers and virtues. As though<br />
they were as concrete as actual human activity. Now I‘m getting on top of that...<br />
Perhaps I‘m beginning to speak for myself.<br />
But philosophy, Dan? You are not a trained philosopher.<br />
So what? Academic philosophers are just like historians. They merely pick<br />
52
away at minor topics presented to them by their bureaucratically organised superiors.<br />
Ha... Let‘s go up Dawson Street... Miss the crowd in Grafton Street... But<br />
you‘re also caught in what you call the bureaucratic organisation. You are expected to<br />
pick away at minor topics in politics.<br />
But they are all working dark tunnels going nowhere, Tony. Thousands of<br />
careerists manoeuvring for notice and promotion.<br />
But it‘s always been like that, Dan... Here... Yes... If you don‘t like it we can<br />
go some there else.<br />
No. It‘s okay... What is there?<br />
Rolls?<br />
Yes. And tea... I agree. But the scale of the activity now. And the influence...<br />
All the half-baked theorising in the media... It is ideological and opportunist.<br />
Perhaps. But think of organised religion, Dan. Was it any different? Here.<br />
Yes... Thanks... But it was different in one essential, Tony. Cultural religion<br />
was erected on what can be best called faith. No matter how illusory or opportunistic<br />
the religious superstructure was, the ordinary exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of faith was distinct. And the<br />
peculiarity of faith is that it is a kind of focusing power... Can you see that?<br />
Yes and no... Do you have faith, Dan?<br />
That‘s a typically superstructural question, Tony. It assumes that what I call<br />
faith can be translated into cultural terms. Or expressed in those terms... No. What I<br />
mean by focusing power is this. No matter how much of the cultural assumptions and<br />
social habits one strips away... by self-reflection... there always remains what I can<br />
best call a constant presence within oneself. So long as you exist, you never cease to<br />
be a presence... That presence itself is what I call faith... You see, it is not faith in<br />
something or about something. It is, if you like, an actual thing. The best way to<br />
describe it is as Irish Roman Catholics do, as The Faith, because they always seem to<br />
be referring to something which abides outside everything, even Roman Catholicism,<br />
and about which they have nothing more to say.<br />
My mother will love this, Dan. A Trinity prod praising the Faith... Hhh!<br />
Is it true?<br />
Ah... A good point... And no faith underlying the media?<br />
No. Not simply that. Faith, as such, would be inappropriate. No. Some other<br />
kind of focal point.<br />
Ah... Truth.<br />
That‘s it in cultural terms. But there would have to be some kind of abiding<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce underlying it.<br />
What would it be?<br />
I don‘t know... Anyway...<br />
Be sure to let me know, Dan... You‘ve aroused my curiosity... Actually, it‘s<br />
damned interesting.<br />
They‘ll publish the lecture... But what I‘ve been talking about will probably<br />
only make up a sentence of two in the paper.<br />
Even so, Dan. I‘d like to read it.<br />
Come to the lecture, why not? It‘s at five. In the first weeks of term. That‘s<br />
about the late middle of October. I‘ll let you know.<br />
Do that... Now... More tea? The roll was dry.<br />
Sure... I‘ll get it... Hold on... Ah... Yes... Tea...<br />
Quick... She was really keen to serve you.<br />
Mmm? Oh... She was doing nothing else.<br />
They were always a sucker for you, Dan. Don‘t be so modest.<br />
53
Maybe... But they‘re suckers for many then... As might be expected...<br />
Huh... How dry!... Anyway, thanks... What do you want to ask me?<br />
Does your family still have that place on the West coast?<br />
Yes. In Renvyle.<br />
Do you ever go down?<br />
Yes. Pretty often. Actually, I‘m going down on Friday for the holiday<br />
weekend.<br />
Next weekend? Is it that soon?<br />
First weekend in August. Tomorrow is the first of August.<br />
Is that so? I wonder if you could do a small thing for me. It won‘t take up<br />
much of your time. If the sky is clear, would you check for jet trails running northsouth<br />
off the coast?<br />
Jet trails?<br />
Yes. I‘ll tell you why when you come back. I don‘t want to prejudice you.<br />
Estimate their height and distance from the coast. Very roughly... Do you have<br />
glasses?<br />
Yes. The old man has a pair down there.<br />
See if you can work out any details of the aircraft.<br />
And that‘s all?<br />
That‘s all... Except, keep this to yourself, will you?<br />
Dan, are you serious? It‘s a hell of a jump from the philosophy of truth to jet<br />
trails off the Connemara coast.<br />
I know. And yes, I am paranoid... Will you do it? I promise it won‘t make you<br />
paranoid.<br />
Of course I‘ll do it... But can‘t you tell me something about it? You‘ve<br />
aroused my curiosity a second time now.<br />
I‘d rather not.<br />
Spy planes? Or aye eff Nimrods searching for Russian submarines?<br />
No. Stop probing... Look, try to check the regularity of the flights, will you?<br />
It‘s incidental, but it might help.<br />
You expect me to see something definite, Dan.<br />
No, Tony. Just look, will you... Now... It‘s almost two... Come on. Go back to<br />
your desk.<br />
Very cute, Dan. You‘ve left this to the very end, so I couldn‘t question you...<br />
What are you up to?<br />
Nothing, Tony. I‘m just curious.<br />
Is it something you picked up around College?<br />
Around College?<br />
There are so many people in the know there.<br />
Know about what, Tony?<br />
Hhh... Fair enough... I‘ll ring you next Tuesday or Wednesday.<br />
Yes... Which way are you going?<br />
Through College... The Customs House... Well, come on... My, but you have<br />
given me some things to think about.<br />
Is your work so boring?<br />
Not too bad... Policy, you know... No. The level of abstraction. Not too much<br />
of it in the civil service... Anyway, how is Charley?<br />
Well. Still recovering from the birth.<br />
It didn‘t take too much out of her, did it?<br />
Not too bad. But it effects the moods afterwards. Like coming down from a<br />
54
high.<br />
Or a hangover?<br />
Yes. In a sense.<br />
And you?<br />
I was just an onlooker after the first few minutes.<br />
As God said... Can I come and see the child? Brian.<br />
Yes... Look, we‘re going to organise a small party. In a few weeks‘ time.<br />
Would you come?<br />
Sure... That‘s a good idea. Launch the child.<br />
Display the heir.<br />
Yes... oh yes... Good for you, Dan... It must be good to have a son.<br />
I suppose so... But once you have him, you have him... You still haven‘t<br />
marr<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
No.<br />
Anyone?<br />
Not really... I don‘t feel pushed.<br />
It‘s not compulsory... Anyway, I‘ll leave you here. It‘s nice to have seen you<br />
again, Tony... You do look very well.<br />
And you, Dan... Hah... The same Dan... The same earnestness... I‘ll ring you<br />
next week.<br />
Thanks for doing this. It might amount to nothing. Even so, thanks.<br />
Give my regards to Charley and Brian... I look forward to that party... So long.<br />
I will... So long...<br />
e. Actual objects are neither true nor objective.<br />
Epistemology deals with the true and the objective. Note: Frege opposes<br />
epistemology to ontology.<br />
The World:<br />
Correspondence theory – reference proves nothing.<br />
(i) x is a true reference to y only if x is a true reference to y.<br />
(ii) The world of sensation is a flux; it has structure by virtue of the stability of<br />
our thoughts. But it is the validity of these thoughts that produces structure,<br />
not their being. Thus thoughts endure because they are judged to be true.<br />
Men:<br />
Frege: The objective is that which can be grasped by more than one<br />
human being.<br />
This does not mean that the objective is that which is intersubjective.<br />
Rather, the intersubjective is possible because there is objectivity.<br />
Again, the true does not appear in the intersubjective. Rather, the<br />
intersubjective can express the true because (a) each human being can, for<br />
himself, recognise the true, and (b) different human beings can recognise the<br />
same truth. Thus intersubjectivity shows that<br />
(i) human beings possess the same power of judgement.<br />
(ii) human beings judge the same thoughts to be true.<br />
But objectivity does not reside in the true thoughts that are<br />
55
communicated, nor in the recognition by various human beings of their truth.<br />
It l<strong>ie</strong>s rather in the independence of the true from the expression of the thought<br />
or from its reception.<br />
Thus, while the true and the objective is not established in<br />
intersubjectivity, it is not grounded in the utterer or receiver either. In all cases<br />
it is a matter of grasping the true, and objectivity is grasped in the judgement<br />
that the true is independent of our recognition of it.<br />
Thought: Frege: ‗We are not bearers of the thought, as we are bearers<br />
of our ideas.‘<br />
Because judgement is always the assertion of the true, F argues that<br />
truth and falsity are not definable; they are the presuppositions of all thinking<br />
and are recognised silently by all who make judgements.<br />
This impl<strong>ie</strong>s that the truth is related to the positivity of assertion, that<br />
is, that a judgement is made. Falsity, then, is indicated by the absence of<br />
judgement, that is, in the impossibility of judging a particular idea.<br />
If this is the case, then judgement can be described as a response to the<br />
true. Given the distinction between truth and falsity, as between the positive<br />
and the absent (not merely negative), this judgmental response to the true must<br />
be regarded as being involuntary and unavoidable.<br />
However, it could be argued that while the recognition of the true<br />
might be involuntary, this does not mean that the acknowledgement of the<br />
independence of the true from our recognition of it is also involuntary. Our<br />
thinking could remain at the level of ideas, that is, subjective.<br />
Obviously not. By definition, the true is objective. Thus, the<br />
recognition of the true is the judgement itself. This means that the recognition<br />
of the true is simultaneously the recognition of its independence of our<br />
reception of it, that is, of its objectivity.<br />
Frege argues that this immediacy of thought can be shown<br />
phenomenally in two ways: (I) as the constituent of Reason and (II) in the<br />
characteristics of thought.<br />
(I)<br />
I‘m home.<br />
Is it raining again? What a summer... Have you eaten?<br />
No... I‘ll fix something.<br />
There‘s some chicken... stewed... and rice.<br />
I‘m sorry I‘m so late. I wanted to finish work on a topic.<br />
It‘s after nine, Dan.<br />
I know. But... It‘s got to be done, Charley. I mean, it‘s got to be done properly.<br />
But so late? This is supposed to be your rest period... You said last year was<br />
exhausting.<br />
It won‘t be so bad next year. I‘ve got the courses organised now.<br />
You are in danger of becoming a workaholic.<br />
Do you think so? I haven‘t looked at it like that... No. I... Oh.<br />
What?<br />
Nothing. I‘ll get the food...<br />
There are more peppers and greens in the fridge.<br />
56
Got them...<br />
You look very distracted.<br />
I‘ll feel better when I‘ve eaten... I had lunch with Tony Hackett.<br />
How is he?<br />
He‘s getting very bumptious. He laughs at everything.<br />
That‘s very harsh... I‘ve always found him... well, gracious.<br />
That‘s because you are a women. But I see what you mean. There‘s a kind of<br />
ripeness about him... You know? As though something was stored up in him.<br />
A kind of virility? He doesn‘t strike me as being virile... I mean gracious as<br />
suave... but not superficial... Is he homosexual, do you think? He never marr<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
No. He was no more unsure in that sense than any student... Someone once<br />
told me that he liked older women. Perhaps it‘s a mother thing.<br />
I‘ve heard him mocking his mother. Apparently she‘s very religious. As a<br />
Roman Catholic, I mean... you know, devout. He told me once that she was in love<br />
with the Archbishop of Dublin... I thought he was joking. I asked him why she didn‘t<br />
go to the top... love the Pope, I mean. He said she didn‘t like wops... Hah.<br />
Hhh!<br />
He can be very funny.<br />
Witty... Yes. He asked how you were.<br />
Did he?<br />
I told him about the birth. How long it took. Then he asked me how I had been<br />
affected, and I answered to the effect that I was an onlooker after the first few<br />
minutes. He came back instantly and said that‘s what God said... It wasn‘t until I was<br />
walking out that I realised how good that answer was.<br />
A whole philosophy.<br />
Yes... Actually, there is, when you think about it.<br />
And yet you don‘t seem to like him?<br />
It‘s not a question of liking him.<br />
He was one of your drinking chums at College.<br />
That was different. A kind of esprit de corps. It was more a matter of being<br />
able to share a common thing.<br />
But surely a sense of comradeship must have survived that?<br />
Oh yes... of course... While I was with him I had an image of him at three in<br />
the morning, absolutely off his head, declaiming in that peculiar arch rhetoric of his...<br />
We used to laugh so much... We were off our heads too.<br />
The rumours we heard about those part<strong>ie</strong>s, Dan.<br />
I know.<br />
A magic circle?<br />
That was because of John Nicholson. He seemed so demonic.<br />
Was he? I remember him. He graduated the year I came into College.<br />
Not really. He was really very timid in that way. You know. An Ulster<br />
Anglican. Pseudo aristocratic. Spleen. Very peremptory... No... I‘ve just remembered<br />
something... Tony once said mass... Yes. I remember.<br />
They can‘t do that, can they?<br />
I suppose not... However, he was quite drunk... we all were. He suddenly<br />
announced that he would say mass on the mantel shelf... John got upset. But Peter<br />
Rogers, who is ar cee, was gleeful... As though it was a neat p<strong>ie</strong>ce of revenge... Before<br />
he started, Tony suddenly turned and said he was going to create a miracle...<br />
He must have been very drunk, Dan. That‘s blasphemy.<br />
No. He was like Peter... There was something very wilful in it... you know, as<br />
57
though he was daring someone to do his worse.<br />
How did you feel?<br />
Fairly euphoric, as usual... I seemed to veer off... I suppose I felt as you did<br />
just now... that it was blasphemous... But he told us quite seriously that he was going<br />
to create the miracle. He wanted us to be prepared... John got really upset... It was in<br />
his flat... He began to shout at Tony. Really raging... He had an uncontrollable<br />
streak... But Tony started speaking in Latin... Really pronouncing... like his usual<br />
rhetoric, but seriously... You know, Charley, what you just now called his suavity?<br />
Yes?<br />
Well, like that, I‘d say.<br />
Oh, I can imagine it... Like Canon Foster in Sandycove. I was at a christening<br />
there once.<br />
Not virile... I see what you mean... More like a bullock... I think it was Joyce<br />
who made that comparison.<br />
Yes, that‘s it... Very masculine. But somehow ultimately impotent... Too<br />
masculine really.<br />
Exactly... Anyway... I don‘t know what he said. I don‘t think John did either...<br />
Nor did Peter, for that matter. He just laughed as though it was another skit... But it<br />
qu<strong>ie</strong>tened John... He was in a towering rage, but he sat down... Tony got his glass of<br />
gin and a biscuit and turned back to the mantel shelf... his altar, you see.<br />
Mmm.<br />
He didn‘t say much. I thought he would go through the whole rigmarole... I<br />
think that would have bored us... Instead he murmured in such a way that while we<br />
could hear the Latin vowel sounds, we couldn‘t make out the words. Then he would<br />
genuflect. When he did, we could see the biscuit covering the glass... The he‘d bend<br />
over the shelf... his altar... then raise his hands up. All the time he muttered his Latin...<br />
Actually, it was perfectly timed... There‘s a spoiled actor in him... Suddenly he turned<br />
and stared at each of us in an intense way... My spine tingled. Nicholson jumped in<br />
his seat... He slowly spread his arms out until he was cruciform... It was suddenly<br />
very terrifying...<br />
Dan...<br />
Yes? Okay... I‘m remembering. I remember I was suddenly cold sober... I<br />
couldn‘t move. I began to shiver and every fear I‘ve ever had came back to me... It<br />
was like a bad dope trip I had once... I felt absolutely helpless and miserable. Fear was<br />
like a great hole in me... I wanted to leave the room, but I couldn‘t move... Then Tony<br />
relaxed and turned back to the shelf... It was well-judged, Charley. I had felt terrif<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
while he was facing us. But he seemed to control it. When he turned away I suddenly<br />
felt so alone... and I mean alone... The fear and emptiness were like nothing compared<br />
with that loneliness... It‘s funny... I can feel it again now.<br />
Dan. Please.<br />
No... It‘s alright, Charley... It‘s vicarious... Memory... Tony genuflected again<br />
and of course I saw the glass and biscuit... Obviously I transferred my attention on to<br />
those... It worked... Such a feeling of return, as it were, I had... Then Tony said loudly,<br />
This is my body, which is sacrificed for your salvation, and raised the biscuit over his<br />
head in the way the pr<strong>ie</strong>st does... But before I could respond... and I wasn‘t sure how<br />
to respond... he lowered it and genuflected... You know that gin and tonic is not quite<br />
colourless, as vodka is... well, the glass and the gin seemed as solid as a crystal... Like<br />
a <strong>stone</strong>... a gem... but there was a slice of lemon in it... the yellow was brilliant and<br />
curiously blinding... As expected, Tony spoke loudly, this time referring to the blood.<br />
He elevated the glass... and... uh...<br />
58
now...<br />
And?<br />
Oh... I‘m not sure how much is from memory and how much I‘m adding to it<br />
It did happen?<br />
Oh yes, Charley... I wouldn‘t fool you... Perhaps I should leave it. It really was<br />
a small incident... I can‘t even remember when it happened. I mean, which year... or<br />
even month... And I had forgotten all about it until a few minutes ago.<br />
What was it about the glass, Dan? Tell me.<br />
Okay... I‘m trying to remember... The glass was like a <strong>stone</strong>... You know how<br />
some crystals have a bluish tinge?..<br />
Like that... And the lemon was glowing... Yes... It was a kind of shock when<br />
he actually lifted it and said it was his blood... I mean, if it had been red wine... which<br />
the pr<strong>ie</strong>sts use... well, the analogy would have held... Do you see, Charley? In order<br />
that the... as it were... identification... were to hold, we... me anyway... had to bring<br />
the two things together... I mean, the idea of blood and that crystal... This all<br />
happened very quickly, Charley.<br />
What happened, for goodness sake?<br />
Oh... I brought them together alright... It just made sense... I‘m sure I even<br />
said yes in that obvious kind of way... You know when someone tells you something<br />
which he thinks is going to surprise or shock you and instead you find it ordinary and<br />
commonplace... well, like that... Just so...<br />
You were obviously drunk enough for anything to make sense.<br />
Not drunk, Charley... My mind was crystal clear... Ha... Crystal clear... I... I<br />
had better finish this, Charley.<br />
Leave it if you want to, Dan. You‘ve told me enough.<br />
But I haven‘t told you it all... Tony went back to muttering again, with his<br />
arms outstretched. That broke the tension. I began to relax... Then I got the most<br />
colossal shock.<br />
What?<br />
Don‘t you see? It was obvious. The shock was a shock of recognition... The<br />
blood was like the crystal.<br />
How do you mean, Dan?<br />
Just that, Charley... I can‘t explain it any better than that... The blood was like<br />
the blue crystal which had a brilliant yellow light in it.<br />
Sounds like a marble I had as a child.<br />
You are disappointed? Yes, of course... You would be... For me then it was<br />
obvious. But for you now it is either totally obscure or totally commonplace... Yes... It<br />
was actually a kind of mystical exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
But what does it mean to say that blood is like a blue and yellow crystal?<br />
Just that, Charley... A blue crystal with a yellow light in it.<br />
But it makes no sense, Dan.<br />
I can understand that... Of course it was fortuitous. I mean what if we had been<br />
drinking whiskey. Perhaps the blood then would have appeared to be like a golden<br />
crystal. Or stout?<br />
You are laughing.<br />
Yes... There was no fundamental truth in it, Charley.<br />
The power of suggestion?<br />
Indeed... Anything can be made to appear true... That‘s faith.<br />
Faith? Did you have faith in Tony? Surely not... That would be blasphemous.<br />
No. He aroused or created faith in me... Or theatrical... Suspension of<br />
59
disbel<strong>ie</strong>f.<br />
But the shock of recognition afterwards, Dan?<br />
Yes. That was true. I did exper<strong>ie</strong>nce that.<br />
How do you explain that?<br />
As I did then. As though I was... or my mind or understanding was... jumping<br />
from one level to another.<br />
From a mystical level?<br />
Something like that.<br />
Mmm... What happened then?<br />
You seem satisf<strong>ie</strong>d by that explanation.<br />
It makes sense in a way... Theoretically... The mystical would be like that...<br />
But what happened afterwards? How did the others react?<br />
Oh... Tony suddenly turned towards us. He had the glass in his hand and the<br />
biscuit lay on it. He seemed very merry and benevolent... I think I was still shocked<br />
and I felt very lucid and... pure... He put the glass on the coffee table between us,<br />
deliberately broke the biscuit... it was a plain round biscuit... and gave us each a<br />
p<strong>ie</strong>ce... When he put his share in his mouth, we followed suit. Then he sipped the gin<br />
in the glass and handed it to John... I think that was deliberate... though he was on<br />
Tony‘s right. John sipped it, looking very pale and downcast... Then I drank, then<br />
Peter... I remember I was struck by the silence. I felt very reassured.<br />
You mean because you drank from the glass? Like Communion?<br />
No... That simply made sense too. I felt very close to the others... The silence<br />
just filled me with reassurance... That‘s all.<br />
Didn‘t anyone say anything about it?<br />
No... We sat around being very qu<strong>ie</strong>t and still... The way one does after<br />
smoking dope or after sex... You know what I mean.<br />
Yes.<br />
No one ever mentioned it afterwards... As a group, I mean... I once asked Peter<br />
about Tony... After we had graduated... I thought he might have an insider opinion...<br />
being a Roman Catholic too... I wouldn‘t ask John...<br />
What did Peter say?<br />
He laughed and said that Tony was a headcase when he got drunk.<br />
Is that all?<br />
Yes. Perhaps he wasn‘t going to tell me anything... Yet he didn‘t seem to be<br />
holding anything back... Actually, I think Peter was familiar with that kind of<br />
mentality... Again because he was ar cee.<br />
And you had forgotten about it until tonight?<br />
In detail, yes... I think I remembered it as Tony saying mass... along with other<br />
memor<strong>ie</strong>s. You know the way memor<strong>ie</strong>s rise spontaneously... It just seemed part of<br />
his general mockery.<br />
It‘s very remarkable, Dan.<br />
Set the scene and I suppose it could be done anywhere.<br />
Well, then, the fact that it could be done... I mean, if one wanted to do it.<br />
Yes, I see what you mean... But I daresay you would need someone like Tony<br />
to stage it.<br />
Mmm.<br />
No?<br />
Is he that unusual?<br />
Not really. In some ways he is quite mediocre. Today, for instance, he looked<br />
just like a middling senior civil servant with a relatively influential position... He was<br />
60
wearing a fairly expensive-looking suit.<br />
Yet he had that effect...<br />
But it‘s done in many ways every day, Charley... I‘ve just realised that...<br />
Music... Teenagers screaming at pop concerts. Freaking out at a rock gig.<br />
But that‘s hysteria.<br />
It‘s not always done to the same end, Charley. Anyway... There are Roman<br />
Catholic masses every day... And their miracles.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
Why not?<br />
But how?<br />
Same thing. Mood. Expectation... Tony did tell us that he was going to<br />
perform a miracle. And we all knew enough to assume he was going to parody the ar<br />
cee service... Then ritual gesture and action.<br />
But blasphemy, Dan... That‘s evil.<br />
What is blasphemous depends on what is accepted doctrine. It‘s not<br />
necessarily evil in itself. Only in intention... And Tony‘s intention wasn‘t evil... He‘s<br />
a mocker but he‘s hardly evil, is he?<br />
No... Perhaps he should have been a clergyman.<br />
Yes. So many of them are like that... It demonstrates the strength of the<br />
influence.<br />
All that ritual... But it was interesting... The rumours were true after all.<br />
Not really. That only happened once... At least I think so.<br />
You‘re not sure?<br />
As sure as I can be... Perhaps we suppress a lot of memor<strong>ie</strong>s... Like your<br />
dream.<br />
Dream? Oh that... Yes, of course... I don‘t have it anymore.<br />
No? But you had it for so long.<br />
I know... But I haven‘t had it since we spoke about it... Since I told you about<br />
it.<br />
Strange... Perhaps you broke the spell.<br />
In what way?<br />
Oh, speaking about it brought it to consciousness... Something like that.<br />
Just as well. It was very draining.<br />
I‘m glad in that case... How do you feel this evening?<br />
You mean after last night? I think it was the music... Maire is usually such<br />
good company... Strauss seemed very depressing... But I feel fine now, Dan... Don‘t<br />
worry about me. I‘m fine.<br />
Yes. I daresay you have to recover after a birth. I mean the hormones and<br />
moods while you were pregnant.<br />
Yes. It‘s like coming ashore from a stormy sea... But you ought to go to bed<br />
now, Dan. You need rest... You are working very hard on that paper.<br />
Let‘s... I‘m glad you feel well, Charley.<br />
Oh Dan. You are considerate... I had never thought that important... But you<br />
are such a help.<br />
Perhaps that‘s the role of the man in a situation like this. You know, steady as<br />
a rock.<br />
Seas. Rocks... Not so academic.<br />
No. It isn‘t... But then it‘s not an academic subject.<br />
Thank goodness you haven‘t been filled with academic dust yet.<br />
Yet? I know of two history dons who are model family men.<br />
61
Yes. But they are not famous academics either.<br />
They are good teachers.<br />
That‘s true... Come on... Let‘s go.<br />
I‘ll check the locks... There... Is he asleep?<br />
Yes...<br />
So at peace with himself.<br />
But he has a personality already, Dan... I feel I know him so well... You know,<br />
he doesn‘t like being put face down.<br />
Wants to face the world.<br />
It‘s so easy to think that one‘s child is... has the potential for greatness.<br />
Perhaps that‘s love.<br />
Yes. One always wants the best for one‘s loved ones. Don‘t you feel that?<br />
He‘ll do what he wants in the long run.<br />
Oh... You mean we mightn‘t know what is best for him?<br />
To an extent we should. But when he has grown up, then he should choose for<br />
himself.<br />
You‘ve thought of that already, Dan?<br />
Yes. By the time he was an hour old I was thinking about that.<br />
Isn‘t that very abstract? He is your son.<br />
He is. I know that so well. But he is also as you said yourself a distinct person.<br />
Perhaps that is because you are a man. But for me he is not distinct.<br />
So long as you don‘t restrict him, Charley. After all, he‘ll be a man too.<br />
No man can live without love, Dan... You know that very well.<br />
You mean a mother‘s love... My mother is dead.<br />
But not really, Dan... Memor<strong>ie</strong>s... Perhaps it is transferred.<br />
To Alice?<br />
Alice? I‘m a mother now, Dan.<br />
Oh no. I hear Mister Freud in the offing... I am your first son and my son is my<br />
younger brother... Charley, that makes me my own father... And that makes you my<br />
wife and mother... and daughter. Your father is dead... Pretty complicated, isn‘t it?<br />
Go to sleep, Dan.<br />
Just be my wife, Charley.<br />
Oh go to sleep.<br />
What‘s wrong? Alice?... You are jealous.<br />
Hers was the first name that came to you, Dan.<br />
God but you‘re possessive, Charley.<br />
Go away.<br />
No.<br />
Oh... Oh Dan. You just don‘t understand... Sometimes I wish you wouldn‘t<br />
think so much.<br />
Mmm.<br />
That‘s right. Go to sleep... But you don‘t understand, Dan.<br />
THURSDAY<br />
62
You‘re not asleep?<br />
What time is it?<br />
Just after three... I‘m going to feed Brian... Can‘t you sleep?<br />
I did for a while. But my mind refuses to switch off. Concatenation...<br />
Are you worrying about something?<br />
No... my mind is thinking.<br />
About what?<br />
Truth.<br />
You are letting that paper get in on you, Dan.<br />
Not just the paper... So many things.<br />
You sound spaced out, Dan.<br />
I am... oh... Truth thinks me, Charley.<br />
Tell it to go to sleep then.<br />
It never sleeps... When I try to think rationally about it, Charley, it spreads out<br />
beyond words... It‘s immense.<br />
You are spaced out... Go to sleep.<br />
Recognition is the key, Charley. You only have to be able to see it.<br />
You‘re thinking about Tony‘s miracle.<br />
That too... Concatenation... But everything points to it... Frege said that we can<br />
only assert the truth... It‘s always there...<br />
Dan... I must get up... Brian is awake...<br />
Yes... Do...<br />
Go to sleep, darling... Please.<br />
Thanks... Yes...<br />
(I) Frege: ‗By objectivity I mean independence from our sensing, intuiting,<br />
and imagining and from the constitution of internal pictures from memor<strong>ie</strong>s of<br />
earl<strong>ie</strong>r sensations, but not independent from Reason; to say what things are<br />
like independent of Reason would be to judge without judging, to wash the fur<br />
without wetting it.‘<br />
Here F uses the earl<strong>ie</strong>r argument about objectivity – up to a point. He<br />
now details those elements of the mind from which objectivity is independent.<br />
Then he indicates the element from which it is not independent: Reason. But<br />
notice that the first list is a list of mental activit<strong>ie</strong>s, while that element from<br />
which objectivity is not independent is not referred to in the active mode.<br />
Objectivity is not independent from Reason; F does not say that it is not<br />
independent of reasoning. Thus at this stage, objectivity is connected with a<br />
‗state‘ of the mind, not with a mental activity.<br />
But the second part of the sentence has a different import, though<br />
presumably it is intended to clarify or instance what is asserted in the first part.<br />
F now talks about ‗things‘ and not objectivity, implying that ‗things‘ and<br />
objectivity are identical. They are not. Objectivity is of the true, and ‗things‘<br />
are true only in judgement, not in themselves.<br />
So how should this clause be interpreted?<br />
Two ways:<br />
(a) Interpret it thus: ‗to say what objectivity is like independent of Reason<br />
63
would be to judge without judging.‘ On the basis of F‘s earl<strong>ie</strong>r arguments<br />
(above) this is of course true. Now, F is here describing what it is ‗to judge<br />
without judging‘, that is, it is impossible to say what objectivity is like<br />
independent of Reason. On the basis of this negative argument, what then does<br />
it mean ‗to judge‘? It is to say what objectivity is; that it is, in the context of<br />
this particular argument, not independent of Reason. While this seems merely<br />
to repeat the burden of the first part of the sentence, in fact it adds an<br />
important point. To the extent that judgement is about objectivity, it is also<br />
about Reason. Given the assertion that objectivity is not independent of<br />
Reason, it would seem then that judgement must have a relation to Reason<br />
similar to the relation it is said to have with truth and objectivity. It is not clear<br />
what this relation is. (1) On the one hand, it could be that Reason, truth and<br />
objectivity are related as truth and objectivity are, in the sense that there<br />
cannot be a truth that is not simultaneously objective, and vice versa. (2) On<br />
the other hand, Reason could be related to judgement, to the extent that the act<br />
of judgement must always have some essential relation with Reason, so that it<br />
is this relation between judgement and Reason which makes possible the<br />
recognition of the true and objective.<br />
(b) Let the clause stand as it is: ‗to say what things are like independent of<br />
Reason would be to judge without judging.‘ Superficially, this statement says<br />
that ‗things‘ have no objectivity in themselves, which according to F‘s earl<strong>ie</strong>r<br />
argument is true. Only the true is objective; and the true is not an element of<br />
propositions judged to be true. But this is so evident that it can hardly be the<br />
burden of this clarifying or instancing clause. There must be more to it. Notice<br />
that F refers to ‗things‘ here in terms of their relation to Reason. Obviously he<br />
is not referring to perceptible ‗things‘ out in the world (which I have been<br />
assuming). Rather he is referring to mental ‗things‘. In that case, what F is<br />
saying is this: ‗things‘ are independent of the list of mental activit<strong>ie</strong>s given in<br />
the first part of the sentence, but not independent of Reason. Thus these things<br />
have a status similar to that of objectivity. It too is independent of the listed<br />
mental activit<strong>ie</strong>s but not of Reason. Thus these ‗things‘ can be said to be<br />
objective ‗things‘. Therefore they can also be called true ‗things‘. But they are<br />
not the true, for ‗things‘ must be judged to be true, they are not merely true in<br />
themselves. Now F‘s reference to judgement in this clause becomes clear. He<br />
is saying that in order to judge ‗things‘, they cannot be independent of Reason.<br />
So, whatever about the problem of the relation between Reason, judgement<br />
and objectivity ((1)(2) above), it is clear that those things which are judged are<br />
not independent of Reason, that is, they have an intimate relation with Reason.<br />
A number of conclusions proceed from this:<br />
1. In order that a judgement be made, ‗things‘ must be dependent on Reason.<br />
2. While a judgement has a relation with Reason, to the extent that the ‗things‘<br />
it judges are dependent on Reason, it is not clear that judgement itself is<br />
dependent on Reason.<br />
3. Similarly, while objectivity is not independent of Reason, it is not clear if<br />
objectivity is judgeable because it is dependent on Reason, as ‗things‘ are, or<br />
if objectivity is dependent on Reason because objectivity can only be<br />
recognised by judgement in Reason and nowhere else, that is, objectivity is not<br />
independent of Reason in the sense that it is possible to recognise it there only.<br />
Note: To the extent that F is here attempting to site objectivity with reference<br />
to human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, the fact that objectivity is related uniquely to Reason,<br />
64
and that Reason, as a state, has no (at present) discernible relation to the<br />
mental activit<strong>ie</strong>s, means that Reason is in danger of sharing with objectivity<br />
and truth that status of opposition to the phenomenal which he gives to the<br />
latter. In other words, though a new term, which is intended to explain<br />
something about the relations between mental activit<strong>ie</strong>s, ‗things‘, and<br />
objectivity, it is in danger of becoming a kind of metaphor for ‗objectivity‘<br />
and ‗truth‘, that is, a translation of those terms. This suspicion is reinforced by<br />
the consideration that though things cannot be judged unless they are<br />
intimately related to Reason, they cannot be dependent upon Reason unless<br />
they are already judged to be objective, for it is objectivity which is not<br />
independent of Reason. Thus these ‗things‘ are definitionally objective, hence<br />
they have been judged already.<br />
(Note: This analysis shows that the question of the relationship between<br />
judgement and Reason has not yet been answered.)<br />
Lotty... Come in, dear.<br />
How are you, mother?<br />
As you can see, dear... You‘re lucky you didn‘t call earl<strong>ie</strong>r. I‘ve only just<br />
come in... Brian!... Oh let me take him, Lotty... There... He looks so well today... He‘s<br />
so alert, dear... Look... When I speak his eyes rivet on my mouth... You speak, Lotty.<br />
Do... He‘ll look at you... Do.<br />
He watches everything, mother. And...<br />
See!... The way his head swivelled around... What big blue eyes you have,<br />
dear... Oh I could smother you, pet... I could cuddle and cuddle him, Lotty dear... Oh<br />
what‘s wrong?<br />
Oh nothing, mother... Don‘t look like that... so guilty... I‘ve never seen you so<br />
affectionate, mother. It‘s amazing in some way.<br />
But I was just as silly over you, dear. You don‘t remember, that‘s all... it‘s so<br />
easy to love a baby... Isn‘t it, pet? He is so beautiful and... joyous... Look at him,<br />
Lotty... He knows we are talking about him... Look at how his eyes dance. And I can<br />
feel his little legs go.<br />
Do you think so? Dan says he understands everything he hears.<br />
Does he? Coooo-coo. He‘s laughing now. They understand alright, Lotty...<br />
You were so sensitive as a baby, do you know that? You were all eyes...<br />
And Dan says too that he can communicate with us, mother. What do you<br />
think of that?<br />
But he can‘t talk... Oh they laugh and cry...<br />
I think Dan means something like telepathy.<br />
What‘s that, dear?<br />
Mind to mind contact. The thoughts are passed from mind to mind without<br />
speech.<br />
I‘ve never heard of such a thing, Lotty... Does it happen?<br />
They say it does between people who are very close.<br />
Do you and Dan do it?<br />
I think I can always tell his moods... Sometimes we find we think of the same<br />
thing at the same time... But we don‘t talk to one another like that.<br />
I know what you mean... Come in out of the hall, dear... We‘ll have some<br />
65
coffee... And I‘ll find something for you, pet... Yes I will... I will... Oh Lotty, he<br />
laughs so easily... It‘s good that he is so good-humoured. It will make his life so much<br />
eas<strong>ie</strong>r...<br />
Will I take him?<br />
No... Unless you want to... Oh, you‘ll have to...<br />
I‘ll make the coffee if you like...<br />
I‘ll do it, dear... Here... Back to your mommy, Brian... Sit down, dear... Now...<br />
I could always tell what Victor was thinking, Lotty... Sometimes while we were<br />
talking he would suddenly tell me that he had been thinking about what we were<br />
talking about. He said I often gave him answers to his problems in that way... I never<br />
thought very much about that. I just thought it was nice to be able to help him... Is that<br />
what you mean, Lotty?<br />
I think so. But that sounds more like what they call intuition... I think by<br />
telepathy...<br />
Telepathy... Telepathy... Is that the word? I must remember that. Telepathy.<br />
Anyway they seem to mean that one talks without speaking, if you see what I<br />
mean.<br />
Oh yes... Talking without words...<br />
No, mother. Without speaking... You‘d still have to use words... At least I<br />
think so.<br />
Perhaps we could use pictures. No?<br />
I don‘t know, mother. They are not as precise... I mean, some thoughts<br />
couldn‘t be conveyed in pictures... You know, abstract thoughts... You could ask<br />
someone to do something, certainly. Transmit a picture of the thing or the action...<br />
But how could you say you were happy? Or that you liked something?<br />
Oh yes... Wait... You could surround it with a loving light.<br />
How?<br />
Oh. Just imagine it... Brian... I look at him and picture a light around him...<br />
Yes. There.<br />
My goodness!<br />
What is it, Lotty?<br />
He kicked... Brian kicked when you looked at him.<br />
Did he? See?<br />
But he can‘t see you, mother. You are behind him.<br />
Well then...<br />
But he must have heard his name.<br />
Brian!... Did he kick, dear?<br />
No... But his eyes widened... Perhaps it was a shock the first time.<br />
You are very sceptical, Lotty... I mean, you are the one who mentioned it...<br />
telepathy... yes... in the first place... You see, it does work... I mean, if you really<br />
mean it.<br />
But you could transmit false pictures in the same way as words can be false.<br />
But not feelings, Lotty... You can never fool anyone about feelings.<br />
People are fooled, mother. Think of all the people who think they are loved<br />
when they are not... Or who bel<strong>ie</strong>ve others are sincere when they are not.<br />
No. I don‘t agree, dear... People who are fooled like that want to be fooled...<br />
Even if they are hurt... or cheated?<br />
Perhaps it is something else they want. They are prepared to be hurt in order to<br />
get it.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
66
Yes... Here you are... Only biscuits I‘m afraid...<br />
Digestives... As usual, mother.<br />
Oh I know... But you always ate them anyway, Lotty... The other kinds are so<br />
sweet and cloying.<br />
I‘m teasing you, mother. If you gave me anything else I would be almost<br />
shocked.<br />
Well, they are good... Now, have some coffee... Oh, do you want to put Brian<br />
down?<br />
I‘ll put him on the rug where he can see us.<br />
Is that clean enough?<br />
He‘s swaddled in clothes, mother... I daresay it‘s no worse than lying in an<br />
armchair.<br />
If you think so, then do it...<br />
Now... Ah... It‘s beautiful coffee, mother.<br />
The secret is to grind only what you need. In that way it‘s always fresh.<br />
I know... We don‘t use ground coffee regularly.<br />
You should buy a grinder. They‘re very good value.<br />
Yes. I‘ll mention it to Dan... Now... About people being hurt? I find it<br />
incredible that people would willingly suffer pain... Though I remember at College it<br />
was said that Violet Summers was a masochist... I mean her boyfr<strong>ie</strong>nd beat her... That<br />
was... oh... perhaps I shouldn‘t...<br />
Yes, dear. Don‘t if you feel you shouldn‘t...<br />
You might know his family... It would be better if I didn‘t.<br />
I understand, Lotty... And I know of some too... One would really shock you...<br />
Never mind... It is distasteful... So much misery, Lotty... But I was going to tell you a<br />
story, actually... Kenneth Ross told me... He was an intern in the Meath at the time...<br />
and this woman was brought in who had been beaten up by her husband. Her jaw was<br />
broken, black eyes, mouth bleeding. She was a terrible sight apparently... Well, they<br />
took care of her... she was in her fift<strong>ie</strong>s and it seems that this had happened before...<br />
When they had treated her, it was thought best to admit her for a few days. They told<br />
her it was for observation but really it was to give her a rest... Anyway, she refused to<br />
stay. They asked her where she could go... it was four in the morning... and she said<br />
home of course. Needless to say, they were shocked to hear this. One of the nurses<br />
asked her how she could think to go back to such a brutal man. The women asked the<br />
nurse if she was marr<strong>ie</strong>d. When the nurse said no, the woman said, I‘ve got a man and<br />
he knows I am there... You see, Lotty. What she was saying was that she wasn‘t<br />
lonely.<br />
Perhaps loneliness might be preferable, mother.<br />
In her case it wasn‘t... And so many others endure so much pain and<br />
humiliation in order not to be alone.<br />
To get attention, mother.<br />
Yes. To get attention, Lotty... But you sound so... well... superior about it. You<br />
are lucky, dear. You have never exper<strong>ie</strong>nced such loneliness.<br />
Have you?<br />
Not really... It must be very deep... In childhood no doubt.<br />
But you were lonely as a child... In Ravenna.<br />
Yes, dear. I was lonely. But I didn‘t feel lonely... I had mother and Camilla.<br />
When I was on my own I could always look forward to seeing one of them... you see,<br />
dear, I knew I was loved... even by Daddy, though he went away... Even if you are not<br />
seen by those who love you, you know they think of you always.<br />
67
Oh mother... I know what you mean.<br />
Yes dear. I know you do... now. Have some more coffee and let us talk about<br />
something more pleasant... Pain and violence are so depressing... I mean when one<br />
can do nothing about it. Like... Oh Brian... See how he watches us, Lotty.<br />
He‘s been watching us all the time, mother... He keeps flexing his fingers.<br />
Perhaps he doesn‘t like being ignored.<br />
Oh we‘re not ignoring him... he doesn‘t like too much attention really. He can<br />
get testy if you handle him too much.<br />
But I didn‘t give him anything, Lotty.<br />
He‘s really too young yet, mother.<br />
Are you sure? It‘s a shame not to give him a treat. After all, we have our<br />
coffee... Perhaps he would like Something. A p<strong>ie</strong>ce of biscuit perhaps.<br />
I don‘t think so... I‘ll feed him in an hour.<br />
I‘ll tell you what, Lotty. Let‘s ask him... Mmm?<br />
Oh mother, you really are silly over him.<br />
Why not, dear? He has captivated me... now, I‘ll ask him...<br />
Are you using words?<br />
Why yes... I asked him if he wanted a treat.<br />
Just like that? Hah... And has he answered? I expect he will say, Oh yes.<br />
Children are so greedy if... uh...<br />
What it is, Lotty? Is it Brian?<br />
No... Strange... Oh...<br />
Lotty!<br />
Goosepimples, mother... It‘s eer<strong>ie</strong>...<br />
What is? Oh, what is wrong with you, Lotty? Don‘t stare so.<br />
I‘m sorry, mother... I... It‘s quite ordinary... I had a pang... The coffee... it is<br />
strong. But as I had the pang I remembered how Brian used to kick while I was<br />
carrying him... It‘s the association that surprised me.<br />
Brian? He‘s looking at you, Lotty... I‘ve never heard the likes... You never did<br />
anything like that.<br />
That‘s because... well, Dan says that you must allow it to happen.<br />
Allow it? Allow what, Lotty?<br />
I suppose he meant be receptive... you know, allow the possibility... But it is<br />
farfetched.<br />
But you were mocking him, Lotty... You said he was greedy, after all.<br />
Yes... Well, obviously he is not... But you don‘t think he caused it to happen,<br />
do you?<br />
Perhaps you did what Dan said. Perhaps you allowed it to happen.<br />
Well, I won‘t... Oh...<br />
Brian!... Oh darling... come to Nanna... Here... Lotty?<br />
I‘ll take him... Yes... Oh sweetheart...<br />
He knew, Lotty... He knew you were going to cut him... He did.<br />
There now, sweetheart... Oh no... Oh no... Oh, he‘s so sensitive, mother... It‘s<br />
impossible. I can‘t be that sensitive. I try. I do... But he is so pure in his senses...<br />
Hush, dear... He‘ll understand... I‘ve always said that children are wiser than<br />
we think... He will understand... See? His hand...<br />
Yes... Oh Brian... You are too fine... I... Oh mother. It‘s so sad...<br />
But he is bright again... Look... Aren‘t you, pet? You understand, don‘t you?<br />
You see, Lotty? He kicked...<br />
But you don‘t understand, mother... It will never be the same again.<br />
68
Nonsense... If that is the worse thing that will ever happen to him he‘s lucky...<br />
Isn‘t that right, Brian pet?<br />
No, mother... It‘s innocence... It‘s like purity, mother... You can never repair<br />
its loss... I‘ve been so careless...<br />
You couldn‘t help it, dear... I mean it was bound to happen sooner or later.<br />
But it has happened, mother... Mother, I‘ve destroyed his innocence...<br />
Don‘t be silly, dear... You are putting it out of all proportion... Look at him,<br />
Lotty... Brian forgives you, I‘m sure of it... It‘s not such a tragedy.<br />
I‘ve spoiled it... He is in my care, mother.<br />
Lotty, oh Lotty... It‘s only a small thing.<br />
But he trusted me... I know it.<br />
You shouldn‘t take it so much to heart... I know you haven‘t had him for long<br />
and you are unsure of yourself with him, but he is another individual, Lotty... He has<br />
to learn sometime.<br />
But not me, mother... Not because of me.<br />
You can‘t keep him from growing up, Lotty... That‘s the nature of things... If<br />
you knew the number of times I cr<strong>ie</strong>d over the sill<strong>ie</strong>st little thing that happened to<br />
you, dear... Now, go and freshen yourself. You look so wretched... It will be alright,<br />
dear. I promise you... Now, kiss Brian and go up.<br />
Yes, mother.<br />
You see? He does forgive you... He‘s a good person, Lotty. Remember that...<br />
He is. I feel it... Come on, pet. Come to Nanna... Now l<strong>ie</strong> back there. Your mommy is<br />
very sorry and quite upset. You saw that, didn‘t you? And you are man enough to<br />
forgive her... Good boy... There... I‘ll give you a kiss as a treat... You kicked... You<br />
are stronger than your mommy wants to think you are, aren‘t you? Yes... Oh. You<br />
were quick, Lotty.<br />
We must go soon, mother. Brian will want to be fed.<br />
Are you still breast-feeding him?<br />
Yes.<br />
You could do it here, if you want.<br />
No, I‘ll go back to Carlisle Avenue... I must prepare dinner.<br />
Lotty, how are...<br />
I‘m better now, mother. Honest. I‘ll are right... It is just one of those things...<br />
I‘m not used to being a mother yet.<br />
You are doing very well, dear. To judge by Brian, anyone would agree... But<br />
don‘t take it so seriously... Brian is more robust than you think... Bab<strong>ie</strong>s are, you<br />
know... I remember Victor used to tease me because I worr<strong>ie</strong>d over you. About the<br />
smallest thing... He thought I was an awful fusspot...<br />
Dan is the same... He‘s very caval<strong>ie</strong>r with Brian. I think he treats him like one<br />
of his gang... You know, esprit de corps.<br />
That‘s the way... If you take him too seriously he‘ll do the same... You don‘t<br />
want him to be a moper, do you?<br />
No... Oh mother, you are right... You are wise in your own way.<br />
Of course, Lotty. I‘ve had the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, you know.<br />
Don‘t be so huffy... Oh, let me kiss you... There... Come on, Brian. Home for<br />
you, and dinner...<br />
Oh... He‘s wet.<br />
Are you?<br />
No...<br />
Those new disposable things are effective... At least at first... They say it is a<br />
69
sign of affection if a baby wets himself while you are holding him. Did you know<br />
that?<br />
Ha. Then they must be very affectionate.<br />
I daresay... Where you in town?<br />
Yes... How did you know?<br />
The Switzers bag at the foot of the stairs.<br />
A scarf... I wanted to get a dress. But I saw nothing I liked... Clothes are very<br />
much the same nowadays.<br />
It was a good idea, mother. It is so sunny.<br />
Yes. But the wind is very cool... You feel it in the shade.<br />
Yes. Today is the first day of autumn and still no summer.<br />
We had two good summers, Lotty, and we can‘t really expect three in a row.<br />
I suppose so. But it is so awful this year.<br />
There is always next year, dear.<br />
Mañana... Will you come over on Sunday for dinner?<br />
It‘s the holiday weekend. Tom is taking me down to some place outside<br />
Galway. An hotel. He says it is right on the sea and surrounded by mountains...<br />
Doesn‘t that sound beautiful?<br />
It does... Is it in the Burren?<br />
No. I think it is in County Galway... Tom always calls it the West... You<br />
know, in England they call it the West Country and in America the West Coast. Here<br />
we say the West. It makes it sound absolutely immense. As though it were another<br />
land altogether.<br />
Must be Connemara then... I‘ve never been.<br />
You and Dan should go away for a few days soon. Before the days close in...<br />
You could both do with a break.<br />
I know... The birth threw everything out... But we can‘t really travel with<br />
Brian.<br />
Dan has the house near Annestown still, hasn‘t he? His grandfather‘s house?<br />
You could stay there for a week or so... It‘s so lovely there, Lotty... The time Tom and<br />
I stayed with you there. The year before last... The sea was so blue... It reminded me<br />
of the Adriatic.<br />
I‘ll mention it to Dan. But he‘s so t<strong>ie</strong>d up with this lecture he has to give in<br />
October... It would take a lot of preparation. It has been closed up all summer... since<br />
June... And the weather has been so bad.<br />
But think about it, dear... Have you no plans for the weekend?<br />
I didn‘t know it was the holiday. I don‘t think Dan does either.<br />
You are both so out of touch... You ought to go out more. You know I‘ll mind<br />
Brian for you.<br />
Yes. I know... We really ought to go out. But I suppose we are both so t<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
up... I‘m drifting... But I like it. It won‘t last long, mother... But I do like the<br />
sensation.<br />
I know the feeling, dear... Still, you ought to get back into the run of things<br />
soon.<br />
Yes. I will, no doubt... By October... I‘ll go now. Thank you for the coffee<br />
and... the chat. It was nice.<br />
I‘m glad... And don‘t fret so, Lotty. You are not the first woman to become a<br />
mother.<br />
I know, I know. But it‘s like the first time for all mothers, I expect.<br />
I daresay... Now let me kiss you both... He is sweet, Lotty... Don‘t be afraid<br />
70
for him. He is good.<br />
I know... Are you going out tonight?<br />
I don‘t know. Tom is up in Belfast today. He said he would get back about<br />
nine... perhaps we will go for a drink. Down to Killiney... Take care on the road, dear.<br />
The rush hour will be starting soon... Goodbye, pet... Take care of yourself, Lotty<br />
dear.<br />
I will, mother. Don‘t worry about me.<br />
I always worry about you, Lotty. You are still my daughter... Goodbye... Take<br />
care...<br />
Oh mother...<br />
I‘ll ring you before we go...<br />
Frege says elsewhere: ‗We are concerned in arithmetic with objects<br />
that are known to us not through the mediations of the senses, as something<br />
al<strong>ie</strong>n, from outside, but with objects that are immediately given to Reason and<br />
which Reason can see through completely as its most characteristic<br />
possession.‘ Here Frege is describing the reception of objects – that is,<br />
objective ‗things‘ – by Reason. In this account we are given to understand that<br />
(a) objects are not known through the mediation of the senses; that is, they are<br />
not al<strong>ie</strong>n or external;<br />
(b) they are immediately given to Reason;<br />
(c) Reason ‗sees through‘ them completely;<br />
(d) they are Reason‘s most characteristic possession.<br />
(a) and (b) are linked as opposed theor<strong>ie</strong>s of the source of objects. Frege first<br />
den<strong>ie</strong>s the prevailing theory that makes sensation the only source of<br />
knowledge. F has already argued that knowledge derived from the senses<br />
cannot be objective or true, but here he describes such knowledge as ‗al<strong>ie</strong>n‘.<br />
Such knowledge is foreign to Reason. This impl<strong>ie</strong>s that Reason does not, or<br />
cannot, receive knowledge from the senses. This is a different argument to his<br />
earl<strong>ie</strong>r claim that knowledge of the world is not required in order that the true<br />
be known. For now Frege impl<strong>ie</strong>s that Reason, as the locus of the objective<br />
and hence the true, is sealed off from the world and even from perception.<br />
Thus, while the earl<strong>ie</strong>r account allowed, though the context of this earl<strong>ie</strong>r<br />
account did not raise the question, the possibility that Reason could act on the<br />
contents of perception and thus on the world, the account in (a) above<br />
precludes this. Reason, it would seem, has no relation whatsoever with<br />
perception.<br />
(b) purports to show the source of objects: they are ‗immediately given‘ to<br />
Reason. In this relation between the source of objects and the receiver of them,<br />
Reason, no donor is specif<strong>ie</strong>d. Objects are simply ‗given‘. What is more, no<br />
agent of the transaction is specif<strong>ie</strong>d either: objects are ‗immediately‘ given.<br />
Even the receiver is passive, for while in judgement we ‗grasp‘ the true and<br />
the objective, a positive act, objects are merely ‗given‘ to Reason; Reason<br />
does not act in any way to receive them.<br />
Thus, while in (a) a specific source and mode of reception of<br />
knowledge is rejected, in (b), which is by its context an alternative account to<br />
(a), no source or mode of reception is specif<strong>ie</strong>d. All that is said is that objects<br />
are ‗immediately given‘; there is no agent or mode of perception. But an<br />
aspect of the relation between Reason and judgement is reaffirmed indirectly<br />
71
here. Judgement grasps the true and the objective, and at the same time knows<br />
that the true and objective is independent of its act of grasping. This is the role<br />
of judgement; it does not create the true, it discovers it. Now, the ‗things‘<br />
about which judgements are made are obviously distinct from judgement as<br />
such, for judgement is an action that has such ‗things‘ as the objects of its<br />
activity. This means that these ‗things‘ do not originate in judgement, nor are<br />
they possessed at any point by judgement. Thus judgement is not the source of<br />
the objects that are immediately given to Reason. But it is not clear here<br />
whether judgement in some way precedes the giving of the objects to Reason.<br />
Thus the earl<strong>ie</strong>r circular argument reappears. The objects which are given to<br />
Reason are by definition objective ‗things‘. Therefore they must have been<br />
judged to be objective at some stage. But such a stage is not evident; it cannot<br />
be shown that Judgement is prior to Reason‘s reception of objects.<br />
If this is the case, then it would appear that judgement is made after<br />
Reason has received the objects. But why is judgement needed then? The<br />
logical answer is that judgement must be made of the objects of Reason in<br />
order to ‗remind‘ us or make us ‗aware‘ that the objectivity of these objects is<br />
independent of our recognition of their objectivity. This impl<strong>ie</strong>s that Reason<br />
could be otherwise deceived into bel<strong>ie</strong>ving that the opposite was the case, that<br />
Reason was the creator of these objects.<br />
But is Reason so naive? (c) above impl<strong>ie</strong>s that it is not. Reason ‗can<br />
see through completely‘ the objects. That is, Reason can have complete<br />
knowledge of the objects. Part of this knowledge must be the understanding<br />
that their objectivity is independent of its reception of these objects. I say<br />
reception because (1) the ‗things‘ which Reason receives must be by definition<br />
objective, and (2) recognition of the objective is in any case the function of<br />
judgement.<br />
Now, this impl<strong>ie</strong>s that part of Reason‘s complete knowledge of objects<br />
must include acts of judgement, because such complete knowledge must<br />
include the understanding that their objectivity is independent of the<br />
recognition of their objectivity. But, once again, the objects that are given to<br />
Reason must already be objective, so that an act of judgement, which<br />
recognises their objectivity, is not necessary. It must have been undertaken<br />
already.<br />
One conclusion that is compelled by this circular argument is that the<br />
objects are not received by Reason, that is, there is no serial source of objects<br />
outside Reason. In other words, the objects are always known to Reason –<br />
there is no real distinction between Reason, objectivity, and the objects ‗given‘<br />
to Reason. The sequence or seriality impl<strong>ie</strong>d in F‘s account arises from F‘s<br />
own analysis, that is, the sequential relations which appear in his argument are<br />
the products of logic and not of references to an actual state of affairs.<br />
This is inferred from (d) above: objects are Reason‘s most<br />
characteristic possessions. Now while this statement impl<strong>ie</strong>s that Reason has<br />
other possessions which characterise it, but which are not ‗most characteristic‘<br />
of it, the statement, in the context of the whole sentence quoted above, of<br />
which it is the final part, impl<strong>ie</strong>s that the objects that Reason possesses<br />
characterise it. That is, Reason is in some way identical with these objects.<br />
There is no distinction between Reason and the objective ‗things‘ it possesses.<br />
If this is the case, then one can claim that ‗Reason‘ is just another way of<br />
saying objective ‗things‘, that is, that ‗Reason‘ is a metaphor for ‗objectivity‘<br />
72
and ‗truth‘. Conversely, of course, and disregarding the order in which these<br />
terms are introduced by F, it can also be said that ‗objectivity‘ and ‗truth‘ are<br />
metaphors for ‗Reason‘. But this impl<strong>ie</strong>s that one term, at least, here refers to a<br />
reality, while the other term or terms serve as other, but metaphorical, ways of<br />
referring to that reality. It could be the case also that all three terms, ‗Reason‘,<br />
‗objectivity‘ and ‗truth‘, are used by F in analysis, and that they arise from that<br />
analysis: they might have no meaningful referent.<br />
To the extent that F is referring to some exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, if only his own,<br />
the apparent equivalence of the three terms raise the question of reflexivity.<br />
for the burden of all the various arguments of F is ultimately about a relation,<br />
either between Reason and objective ‗things‘ or between judgement and the<br />
true and objective. But while the relation between judgement and the true and<br />
objective is cogent, so far as F‘s argument goes, his account of the relation<br />
between Reason and its objects is not. In the former argument, something does<br />
remain outside judgement, so that the relation judgement holds to this<br />
something is at least a plausible relation qua relation. But in the latter<br />
argument, though Reason is posited as having relations with its objects, they<br />
are given to Reason, and Reason knows and possesses them, the unsolved<br />
problems of the source of these objects and the circularity of the argument<br />
concerning their objectivity, renders these posited relations impossible. If this<br />
is so, then it follows that Reason cannot reflect on its objects. More, because<br />
Reason appears as singular and immanent, Reason cannot reflect at all, that is<br />
cannot hold relations with anything whatsoever. This is because Reason<br />
knows of nothing outside of Reason, and possesses nothing other than Reason,<br />
so that Reason cannot reflect on Reason – a subject cannot be its own object.<br />
You are soaking!<br />
You could call it that...<br />
Didn‘t you take the bus out?<br />
No... Here, will you take my case... I didn‘t think it would last...<br />
But it has been pouring for three hours. The forecast says it will last all night...<br />
This is the first of August, Dan. It‘s like the middle of winter.<br />
It started to soak through by the time I got to Leeson Street bridge... I‘ll have<br />
to take everything off...<br />
Are you cold?<br />
Oh no. I walked fast... But there was no point in waiting for a bus... The fortysix<br />
aye is too irregular.<br />
It‘s a pity you didn‘t take a bus from town.<br />
Oh I walked out, Charley... I can‘t change that now.<br />
Sorry, Dan... I... I suppose I‘m worr<strong>ie</strong>d in case you catch something...<br />
I‘ll change...<br />
Change in here... It‘s warmer. I had the washing machine on... Do... I‘ll get<br />
your pyjamas and dressing gown...<br />
Brian? Why is he not asleep? Oh... What have you been up to, old son? Hey!...<br />
You‘re very chirpy... Aren‘t you sleepy? Here. Catch... And the other one... Now...<br />
upps!. That‘s it. Hold on. Hold on... And down... Now. Ready? Right... Uppps! Hoiup!<br />
Up... Hold on. That‘s it... Hold... Now... Slowly... Down, down, down... and<br />
73
down!<br />
Have you not taken your wet things off yet, Dan? What are you doing? He‘ll<br />
fall!<br />
No, Charley. Watch... Ready, old son? Right then... Hold... See! He‘s<br />
tightened his grips on my fingers. He knows already what to expect. Right. Uppps!<br />
Hey! That‘s it. Hold... Hold on. See his laughing, Charley. He really loves it. Up...<br />
Up... Uup! Hold. They can do that at birth, Charley. Their hands are very strong.<br />
Now. Yes, old son... down, down, down... and and down! There... No. That‘s enough.<br />
Your mother is having palpitations. Good lad... See, Charley? He loves it. They love<br />
movement, especially when they can participate... Okay. I‘ll undress...<br />
But to let him dangle like that, Dan?<br />
You saw for yourself. I did it three times... He didn‘t get tired... He‘s awfully<br />
quick, Charley... I mean he catches on so well to what‘s happening.<br />
But it seems almost cruel... to grasp him like that... the strain.<br />
Oh, it‘s nothing... Thanks for bringing these down. The wind is strong. Right<br />
in my face...<br />
Are you sure, Dan?<br />
Yes... Bab<strong>ie</strong>s are resil<strong>ie</strong>nt, Charley... It‘s good to give them a sense of their<br />
own capacit<strong>ie</strong>s. Otherwise, everything is done for them. They enjoy using their<br />
bod<strong>ie</strong>s... Look. He has his hands up... See? He wants to do it again... You do it this<br />
time, Charley. Let him grasp your forefingers...<br />
It‘s late, Dan... I was about to put him up.<br />
A few minutes won‘t make any difference, Charley. We‘ll have a party. The<br />
three of us... Go on, do it... You saw him do it... That‘s right. Offer him your<br />
forefingers... Take his weight across your palm, not against... That‘s right. You can<br />
use your other fingers for support if necessary... No... Talk to him... Encourage him.<br />
He loves that. Then he knows that you know what he is doing.<br />
Come on, Brian. Up... Up...<br />
Higher, Charley. Don‘t be afraid. Go on, old son. Show your mother what you<br />
can do... That‘s it... Hold on... Good lad! Oh...<br />
Oh!... Brian!<br />
I‘ll catch him...<br />
You distracted him, Dan!<br />
No... Look... He‘s hanging by one hand... The little devil... He‘s showing off!<br />
Oh catch him, Dan... My hand...<br />
Put him down, Charley... Slowly! Down... Good lad, Brian... Hold on, hold<br />
on... There!<br />
Oh Dan, I knew it was dangerous...<br />
He was showing off, Charley.<br />
He wasn‘t, Dan... His hand slipped. You spoiled his concentration... He almost<br />
fell...<br />
He didn‘t fall, Charley. He hung on... He‘s a game lad, Charley.<br />
But if he had fallen?<br />
But he didn‘t... I told you they were resil<strong>ie</strong>nt, Charley... Trust him... He knows<br />
we meant well. Don‘t you, old son?.. There... See? He‘s none the worse for it...<br />
Yes... But it gave me a scare, Dan...<br />
Oh sweetheart, I suppose it did. But he‘s alright... You can see that?<br />
Yes...<br />
Why is he still up, anyway? It‘s after nine.<br />
It took a long time to feed him... He‘s restless for some reason.<br />
74
Is there anything wrong with him? He looks well enough.<br />
No. Nothing like that. I expect he is excited... We visited mother today.<br />
She makes a fuss of him. No wonder he‘s excited...<br />
Did you know that next weekend is the holiday weekend?<br />
Mmm? Oh yes. Tony told me... yesterday... Are Tom and Alice going off?<br />
Yes. To the West. Some place in Galway. Near mountains... Will you eat this?<br />
It‘s cold meat. I never know when to expect you these evenings.<br />
Yes. Thanks... Mountains? Are there mountains in Galway?<br />
I‘m not sure...<br />
Must be the Burren. But that‘s in Clare... Not very high. Splendid v<strong>ie</strong>ws.<br />
No... She said it wasn‘t the Burren. It‘s somewhere in County Galway.<br />
Ah yes. I remember now... That time I stayed near... Round<strong>stone</strong>, I think...<br />
You could see a range to the north. Very conical hills... Yes. There is a huge area of<br />
lakes between the coast and the mountains... I remember wondering if anyone lived in<br />
there. It‘s very barren... Apparently not... You should see it, Charley. We must go<br />
down sometime... It‘s so barren that it is in some way appalling.<br />
According to Tom the place they‘re going to is beautiful. The hotel is between<br />
the sea and the mountains.<br />
Must be further up the coast... But I suppose some people would like such a<br />
desolate place... Like a desert... So pointless in a way.<br />
I think I would like it, Dan.<br />
Closer to nature? But nature is fecund, surely? Not empty.<br />
No... It would be... well, bracing.<br />
Bracing? I hadn‘t thought of it like that... Like the sea... But I felt repulsed...<br />
That‘s because... No.<br />
Because I wasn‘t attuned? Are you desolate still, Charley?<br />
Still? I wasn‘t thinking of desolation, Dan... I was going to say that you were<br />
probably repulsed because it was secret... Do you see what I mean?<br />
Mmm... Yes... But I sense a veil of sorts... The secret is behind a veil... Is that<br />
why I felt repulsed? Must one be desolate first?<br />
Oh don‘t analyse it so, Dan... I don‘t know anyway. I‘ve never been there.<br />
Then we must go soon, Charley... It might do you good.<br />
Am I desolate, Dan?<br />
I... No... Let me think...<br />
Am I?<br />
Hold on... It‘s not that serious... In a way, but... I sense a flatness in you this<br />
evening, Charley... Do you feel deflated? A kind of anticlimax.<br />
It‘s probably the rain.<br />
Could be that... But there was a kind of desolation in you, Charley... And a<br />
kind of exaltation. As though you felt you deserved the desolation... Why did you cut<br />
your hair?<br />
What? How do you get from one to the other, Dan?..<br />
Something Maire MacMahon said the other evening.<br />
What did she say?<br />
She said that for a woman to cut her hair was a sign of gr<strong>ie</strong>f... No. I was<br />
surprised too... But she seemed very confident about it... Is that why you cut your<br />
hair?<br />
I cut it because I didn‘t feel up to taking care of it after the birth... It was long,<br />
Dan.<br />
So it was... Are you letting it grow again? It suited you, Charley.<br />
75
But it was a lot of trouble, Dan.<br />
Was it only a cosmetic?<br />
Oh no... But it was such a nuisance... Why are you so concerned anyway,<br />
Dan? Is that what you fell for?<br />
Of course... That and your poise.<br />
Poise? Oh Dan, Dan...<br />
What is it?<br />
That touched me! Long hair and poise.<br />
I‘m teasing you... It was the sexual chemistry really.<br />
No. Don‘t spoil it.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
The image of long hair and poise... I could see myself as I was when I was six<br />
so clearly... Mother used to brush and brush my hair... How proud her and daddy<br />
were... How proud we all were... Can you see that?<br />
Yes. I saw it once.<br />
Did you? You never told me that... When? Where ?<br />
Oh no. It was later... You must have been in Junior Fresh... You sang in the<br />
Haydn mass. The soprano didn‘t make it.<br />
Were you there? I never knew that...<br />
You sang it from your place in the choir... So many people sang along with<br />
you... you know, qu<strong>ie</strong>tly... as though to help you... I thought then that that was just<br />
you... you were radiant...<br />
I was so nervous, Dan.<br />
Then I saw you afterwards with your parents... They were so proud of you.<br />
I had been asked only that morning. I rehearsed all day.<br />
Did you? You looked very pleased with your parents... No... It was right...<br />
How else could you have felt?<br />
I was proud for them, Dan... Daddy was so proud of me. He wanted me to<br />
train professionally, you know.<br />
Why didn‘t you?<br />
My voice isn‘t strong enough... I don‘t think daddy ever bel<strong>ie</strong>ved that. He<br />
couldn‘t see the difference between choral and solo... I could never hold notes firmly<br />
enough.<br />
Was he very disappointed?<br />
In an indulgent way.<br />
Did that upset you?<br />
At first. Before I came to College. Then I began to feel that it was<br />
constricting... He had a subtle kind of persuasiveness.<br />
That must have upset him.<br />
Perhaps... But I was firm.<br />
Subtly?<br />
Hah... I suppose so... But you were at that concert? Did you go to many of<br />
them?<br />
I hardly ever missed Choral... At least as an undergraduate... I loved the<br />
enthusiasm... Like a happy... Like a happy service... You know, no sermon, only<br />
music music.<br />
Yes... But it was so nerve-wracking at times. We never knew how it would go.<br />
Sometimes it would flow through smoothly. But other nights we would have to<br />
struggle to keep it all together.<br />
I can imagine... I remember one night... I think in seventy-three... the orchestra<br />
76
suddenly went to p<strong>ie</strong>ces... There was consternation, but we pretended not to notice...<br />
Luckily the harpsichord kept going.<br />
Thank goodness that never happened... Oh. Brian is asleep.<br />
So he is... He‘s so cherubic... Look at his hands... As though he was still<br />
holding our fingers.<br />
Dan... Don‘t do that again, will you?<br />
Uh? It was alright, Charley.<br />
No... It was risky. There‘s no point in taking such risks with him... It‘s so<br />
pointless.<br />
But he enjoyed it. You saw that... Oh very well... But don‘t coddle him too<br />
much, Charley. You‘ll spoil him.<br />
And you?<br />
I‘m not coddling him.<br />
No. But you treat him as though he was one of your gang... You want to make<br />
him macho.<br />
Macho? Don‘t be silly, Charley... Anyway I‘ll hardly make him macho.<br />
You‘ll make him too physical and defensive... You know, an ego-thing.<br />
Do you think so? Ego? I don‘t feel threatened by him.<br />
Did your father treat you like that?<br />
Like one of the boys? I suppose so... But he was always boyish... He had a<br />
very easy life, Charley. The firm ticked over by itself.<br />
I‘m sorry I never met him, Dan. And your mother. But Keith Jackson once<br />
told me that he preferred the company of your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds to men of his own age.<br />
Yes. Like that... Sometimes I wondered whether he env<strong>ie</strong>d me my age or if he<br />
was being competitive.<br />
Perhaps envy... They could be incredibly stuffy.<br />
Who?<br />
That generation... So nice and yet so nervous.<br />
Who can blame them, Charley? They didn‘t know what would happen next...<br />
Once, while we were driving into town, my father suddenly said, and for no apparent<br />
reason, There’s green everywhere now, Dan. The thing is, I knew exactly what he<br />
meant.<br />
Is it any different now, Dan?<br />
I think so... They think they‘ve caught up... You know? That they‘ve finally<br />
taken over.<br />
Have they?<br />
The situation is different for them.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
Well, put crudely, we... at least our parents and grandparents... felt they were<br />
part of an imperial order. They knew where they stood in the world... Now... well the<br />
new order, shall we say... their position is somewhat ambiguous. They wanted<br />
freedom... self determination... But the price... I‘m not sure they know the price yet.<br />
What do you mean? What price? They run the country now.<br />
Yes. To all appearances... But they have control over so little... The<br />
economy... There are enormous pressures within and without the country... Can you<br />
see that? There‘s the split between the ideal culture and the actual state of affairs. On<br />
one hand a lot of money is spent promoting a supposedly native Irish culture which is<br />
unviable. On the other, there is the worst kind of commercial vulgarisation that passes<br />
for culture... Again, there is a split in the political consciousness. There is a latent<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>f in an ideal Republic and a less than perfect actual polity. The tension there can<br />
77
e seen in the unacknowledged pervasive provoism in the whole island and the<br />
opposed official condemnation of the eye ar aye as a gang of thugs... It‘s okay,<br />
Charley. This is just between you and I... But let me finish... Religion. There is<br />
popular superstition and a deep ignorance of truly Christian morality and on the other<br />
hand an extremely...<br />
Dan. Please... It‘s not our concern.<br />
No? We live here, Charley... I teach political theory.<br />
Not that kind of theory?<br />
No... Thankfully not... Plato, Machiavelli, Marx, among others... That‘s all.<br />
I‘ll take Brian up...<br />
Yes... Would you like some tea?<br />
Yes... I won‘t be long... Those wet things...<br />
I‘ll sort them out...<br />
Did you ask Tony?<br />
Mmm? Tony? Yes... He‘s going down this weekend.<br />
Will he do it? What you want?<br />
Yes. He was very curious... as we expected... He... But he will do it.<br />
Will you tell him what it‘s about?<br />
Depends... Actually, if I can help it, I won‘t...<br />
Yes. I think that is best.<br />
It‘s hard to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve... But...<br />
If he gets the evidence you want?<br />
Yes... I don‘t know... Talk to someone in the papers... The Irish Times, I<br />
suppose...<br />
Yes... But you‘ll have to be careful... I mean, if it were true, Dan.<br />
I know. It does sound paranoid.<br />
I can‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve nothing has been said already... I mean if it were true... Do you<br />
know anyone in the Irish Times?<br />
Not very well... The features editor that time... That ser<strong>ie</strong>s on neutrality,<br />
remember? It wasn‘t my f<strong>ie</strong>ld... I only spoke to him on the phone... I can‘t even<br />
remember his name...<br />
Perhaps someone knows someone.<br />
Yes. I‘ll ask about... But it will have to be one of their political staff. No use<br />
speaking to some literary correspondent or the like...<br />
A politician?<br />
No... No, Charley... That would be too heavy... The party machines, I mean...<br />
No, it will have to be someone who can make informal enquir<strong>ie</strong>s... Here and abroad...<br />
It might be connected with something else.<br />
You mean world-wide?<br />
Oh I daresay this sort of thing goes on all the time.<br />
You said that before.<br />
I know... Testing one another‘s defences... and will, no doubt.<br />
And you think Ireland could be involved?<br />
The country itself? Not necessarily... At this level, this country would be a<br />
pawn only... But the island is strategic... You saw that in the last two wars... It allows<br />
deeper penetration into the Atlantic... But it can also be a front line in Europe...<br />
78
Offensively or defensively.<br />
That means both powers would be interested?<br />
Yes... Positively... I mean it‘s of value to both... Especially now... with long<br />
range weapons.<br />
But they wouldn‘t want to conquer the island, would they?<br />
Not if it costs too much... time or resources... No. All they need to do is nuke<br />
Dublin... That would completely disorganise the State... Government.<br />
Communications.<br />
But they‘d be harassed from the mountains... like V<strong>ie</strong>tnam or Afghanistan.<br />
Nuke the mountains... Charley, I‘m talking about war... Total war... They<br />
couldn‘t afford to mess about then.<br />
Oh... Yes. I can see that... So what is going on at the moment?<br />
Could be a number of things. Testing defences... Especially air capability...<br />
The Russians might be trying out approach routes... You know, routes, times...<br />
logistics... Box the Americans and the British in the Irish Sea and drive a wedge down<br />
the Atlantic... remember they have submarines there already... Perhaps an airborne<br />
invasion or attack here...<br />
So you expect Tony to see Russian aircraft in the West?<br />
Yes... They could hardly get into the Irish Sea... Britain controls access from<br />
the north.<br />
But why on the coasts only?<br />
They have to stay out of Irish territory... at the moment.<br />
It‘s unbel<strong>ie</strong>vable, Dan.<br />
Isn‘t it?<br />
What can you do ?<br />
Me? Speak to some journalist perhaps... Perhaps publication could exert<br />
pressure on the Government... Make people aware of what‘s going on.<br />
Could they stop it?<br />
Not if it was outside Irish territory.<br />
You could let it go, Dan.<br />
Yes. But I‘m curious anyway... I mean I‘m not doing this just because I<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ve people should know what‘s going on... be informed as they say... Quite often<br />
people don‘t want to know anyway... No. I‘m curious to see if it is true.<br />
Well, I hope it doesn‘t make trouble for you.<br />
I doubt it, Charley... Don‘t worry. At most people will think I‘m a fool... or<br />
paranoid... But there‘s lots of that around.<br />
But College?<br />
Not really... Some of them are involved in more silly things than that... And<br />
more sensitive... politically I mean.<br />
You make it sound like a hotbed of intrigue.<br />
It‘s probably the most influential part of the country‘s intelligentsia... The<br />
direct influence they have over thousands of young people... The future leaders.<br />
Yes. I can see that... Anyway... I hope there‘s no trouble for you... You‘ve<br />
taken on so much, Dan... The lecture...<br />
Oh don‘t worry about that either. I‘ll be finished those notes soon.<br />
Oh good... Perhaps we should go up... It‘s almost twelve.<br />
Yes.<br />
The clothes?<br />
I sorted them out... Some to dry... in the hot press. The shirt and knickers for<br />
the wash.<br />
79
Good... You can look after yourself.<br />
If a man can look after himself, then he‘s free of women... I mean total<br />
dependence... You wouldn‘t like me to be totally dependent on you, would you?<br />
As though I were your mother?<br />
And I a helpless child.<br />
Yes. I suppose so... That‘s the general trend today.<br />
Yes. Reduce relations between men and women to the specific relationship... I<br />
mean washing and cooking are not sex specific... But there are things only a man... or<br />
the woman... can provide.<br />
You mean sex?<br />
Not sex only, Charley... It‘s a larger thing than that. Emotions... A kind of<br />
focus that complements the other.<br />
Fulfilling? Yes... That‘s true.<br />
Look at his hands, Charley. They are still grasping fingers... I expect he will<br />
dream about it.<br />
He was so excited this evening, Dan. He‘ll have a lot to dream about.<br />
But Alice is good to him.<br />
Yes. She can make more free with him in a way we can‘t.<br />
We are too close to him... Too responsible.<br />
Yes. Ah... It‘s still raining. Hear it on the window.<br />
I can hear it in the trees too.<br />
Mmm? Yes... So lonely... why do you feel deflated, Charley?<br />
Anti-climax, I suppose... as you said... Perhaps I‘m coming out of the postnatal<br />
thing?<br />
That‘s good, Charley.<br />
Do you know, Dan... I think I will put him onto the bottle... Not suddenly... I<br />
fill give him some of his feeds in the bottle to start with.<br />
Yes. It‘s a good idea. I think it‘s about time. It has been such a strain for you...<br />
Are your breasts still sore?<br />
Yes... But not actually painful. More sensitive... The nipples are all the time<br />
distended...<br />
Ah... I can feel it... Does that hurt?<br />
No. It‘s... mmm ...<br />
It‘s like a constant state of arousal.<br />
Oh not that much, Dan... It‘s only my breasts.<br />
Still... pleasurable.<br />
Not if you‘re preparing a meal, Dan.<br />
Why not?<br />
That would be like a drug... You know all the time high.<br />
Yes. I can appreciate that... How do you feel now?<br />
Yes... It‘s different when you do it, Dan.<br />
Ah... Yes ...<br />
Oh, darling...<br />
Sweetheart...<br />
Oh do it, Dan... do it... I...<br />
Yes... Yes... oh yes...<br />
Thanks, Dan.<br />
80
Mmm... You‘re welcome... Anytime...<br />
No... Not just that... You are right... There are some things only a man can do<br />
for a woman.<br />
This? That‘s obvious...<br />
Not just that... You fill me up, Dan... Do you know what I mean?<br />
Kind of... Heh... That‘s obvious, in a way.<br />
But you do, Dan, you do... You fill all the breaks and chasms...<br />
Chasms?<br />
Metaphorically... You just make everything whole, darling... Thank you.<br />
And thank you...<br />
Go to sleep now, Darling.<br />
Yes...<br />
Goodnight...<br />
FRIDAY<br />
Now Frege writes elsewhere that to say we grasp objective truths is to<br />
speak in a metaphor. To illustrate this point, he presents us with another<br />
metaphor: ‗What I hold in my hand can be considered the content of my hand,<br />
but it is the content of my hand in quite a different sense and is more al<strong>ie</strong>n to it<br />
than the bones, the muscles of which it consists, and their tensions‘<br />
On the basis of F‘s earl<strong>ie</strong>r arguments, it is clear that what is said here is<br />
that the grasping of objective thoughts is like the hand holding its bones and<br />
muscles as its content, rather than like the hand holding a content ‗in‘ its<br />
grasp. This interpretation is supported by the fact that F describes the content<br />
held ‗in‘ the hand as quite different and al<strong>ie</strong>n to the bones and muscles that<br />
constitute the hand. An objective thought cannot be al<strong>ie</strong>n to what grasps it.<br />
However, the question arises: What grasps the objective thought? F<br />
says here that ‗we‘ do. Now F has already detailed the way in which ‗we‘<br />
grasp objective thoughts. ‗We‘ recognise them; they are discovered by us, not<br />
created by us. The point of judgement is to become aware of this, that the<br />
objectivity of the thought is independent or our recognition of it.<br />
But what about the source or origin or the thought we recognise and<br />
judge to be objective? It might have been thought that the metaphor of holding<br />
a content ‗in‘ the hand would serve to image the reception, at least, of the<br />
thought. But of course it does not, for such a content is al<strong>ie</strong>n, and objective<br />
thoughts are not al<strong>ie</strong>n. Therefore, we must understand that F is saying that the<br />
grasping, that is, the reception, of the thought is expressed in the image or the<br />
relation between the hand and the bones and muscles which constitute it as a<br />
hand. This image must then say that the content of the hand is identical with<br />
the hand. By analogy, then, the receiver of the thought is identical with the<br />
thought. But this is not true of judgement, the function of which is to make<br />
aware of the objectivity of thought, a relation to thought which cannot collapse<br />
into an identity. But, according to F‘s argument, it is true of Reason, for<br />
‗things‘, that is, objective thoughts, are not independent of Reason.<br />
81
It can be seen that in this metaphor F does not escape the problem of<br />
the identification of Reason and objective thought. Clearly, thought is not held<br />
‗in‘ Reason, it is rather the constituent of Reason, in the way that the bones<br />
and muscles constitute the hand. However, it appears also that objective<br />
thought is grasped within this identity of Reason and thought. Hence, if this is<br />
the case, the recognition of the truth and objectivity of the thought, as well as<br />
the concomitant judgement concerning the independence of this truth and<br />
objectivity, must occur within this identity. But to the extent that the<br />
judgement, if not the recognition, that is, the grasping, of the objective thought<br />
is an act and so a relation between one thing and another, there must be at least<br />
two things present, the thought and something else. Obviously, this something<br />
else is not Reason, for the thought and Reason are identical. Also, this other<br />
thing is not the recognition or grasping of the thought, for F‘s metaphor of the<br />
hand is intended to portray figuratively what it means to say that we grasp the<br />
objective thought – the grasping of the thought by Reason is like the<br />
identification of the hand with the bones and muscles which constitute it.<br />
Therefore, the act of judgement would appear to be this second thing,<br />
somehow external to, but in relation to, the unity of thought and Reason. But<br />
this cannot be so either, for then the problem of the circular argument<br />
concerning objectivity arises, this time from another perspective. If thought<br />
and Reason are identical, then thought is always objective, for otherwise it<br />
could not be connected with Reason. Therefore, the act of judgement must be<br />
made before thought ‗comes in‘ to Reason. But it cannot be shown, in F‘s<br />
argument, that thought is at any point received by Reason.<br />
A number of conclusions follow:<br />
(a) Judgement as an action is either unnecessary or impossible.<br />
(b) Grasping or the recognition of the objective thought is not in ser<strong>ie</strong>s with<br />
Reason‘s ‗holding‘ this thought .<br />
(c) Reason and objective thought are identical.<br />
(d) Taking ‗Reason‘ as simply one term among others, such as ‗objective<br />
thought‘, to describe the object of F‘s arguments about Reason, thought,<br />
judgement, objectivity and truth, one must conclude that ‗Reason‘ is unique,<br />
immanent, without relations, and coterminous with thought, objectivity and<br />
truth.<br />
If this is the case<br />
Oh... Yes? Come in!<br />
Doctor White?<br />
Yes. Come in... Miss...<br />
I‘m interrupting you... I...<br />
Miss Hungen... Come in... Sit down... No...<br />
I didn‘t think you would be busy, Doctor White. I...<br />
Sit down... do... yes. That‘s it.<br />
I wouldn‘t have come today. But...<br />
Yes?<br />
Monday is some kind of holiday... Is that right?<br />
Yes. The August Bank Holiday...<br />
I didn‘t know...<br />
82
Neither did I.<br />
College will be closed.<br />
Yes. It will... But you could have come on Tuesday.<br />
You might not be here... It‘s your vacation... isn‘t it?.. I was in the library... so<br />
I thought I‘d see if you were in.<br />
No. I‘ll be here on Tuesday... Tuesday morning.<br />
Oh good... I‘ll come then...<br />
That will be fine, Miss...<br />
I‘m really sorry I disturbed you, Doctor White... You are busy...<br />
That‘s alright. It‘s... yes... it‘s about lunch time anyway... I usually stop for<br />
lunch in any case.<br />
Oh... good... Well, I‘ll see you Tuesday morning, Doctor White...<br />
Yes... and... Oh, how are you getting on, Miss Hungen?.. With the paper, I<br />
mean.<br />
Doesn‘t look too good... I‘ve been reading about his life.<br />
Yes. It‘s pretty sordid, isn‘t it?<br />
What a weed!... I mean, Doctor White, he was terrif<strong>ie</strong>d of himself.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
He tr<strong>ie</strong>d to lose himself in his women... Madame de Warens was a mother<br />
figure. When that didn‘t work, he took up with a dummy... He couldn‘t cope with any<br />
other kind of woman... It was a kind of fetishism.<br />
Fetishism? He was an extremely sensuous man. Perhaps too much so? By<br />
modern standards, I mean.<br />
Therese was an object, Doctor White. She was dumb. I mean, she was no<br />
threat to his ego. She was just a sexual object. He didn‘t treat her as a human being...<br />
Doctor White, he even put their children into an orphanage. He didn‘t regard the<br />
products of his manhood as real human beings.<br />
I see what you mean. But he had difficult<strong>ie</strong>s. He was pretty well impotent.<br />
Yeah... You can see that in his theory, Doctor.<br />
Do you think so? Must a man‘s personal problems be reflected in his thinking?<br />
In Rousseau‘s case, yes.<br />
Yet he was so influential. Surely that influence didn‘t arise merely because of<br />
his sexual neuroses? Is his political theory reducible to his impotence? As a kind of<br />
sublimation, I mean?<br />
But women don‘t figure in his life. And they don‘t figure in his theory.<br />
What about Jul<strong>ie</strong>?<br />
He‘s telling her to subordinate herself to a social system in which she has no<br />
active part. And it kills her... Doctor White, Rousseau‘s social theory is about men<br />
only. It was written by an impotent man for other men.<br />
Other impotent men, Miss Hungen?<br />
His theory was very popular.<br />
But impotence? Is his theory reducible to that? His writings helped create the<br />
French Revolution... Was that an act of impotence? Mmm?... But I do agree with your<br />
point about the role of women in his theory. Especially your point about man in the<br />
state of nature... It‘s a good point, and open to useful analysis... You should<br />
concentrate on that... You know. Don‘t generalise from it. Rousseau‘s impotence<br />
could be a product of the social system he lived in... Yes, I know there was a medical<br />
element... But emotionally. An authoritarian polity can deform a man as much as a<br />
woman... Can you see that?<br />
I guess so, Doctor White... But Rousseau... He‘s so hard to take, Doctor<br />
83
White... He makes a woman feel so... well, so al<strong>ie</strong>n...<br />
Perhaps you should change your topic?<br />
No!<br />
Good. Because you have the makings of a very interesting thesis... I mean, if<br />
you wanted to, you could develop it into a doctoral thesis.<br />
Hey! I‘ll stick to the masters, Doctor White.<br />
As you will... Now...<br />
Yes... I‘ll let you go to lunch...<br />
Yes... But don‘t generalise so... That kind of psychohistory is just waffle... It<br />
won‘t stand up to analysis...<br />
I can see that... But, Doctor White, I get so annoyed.<br />
Good. At least you are involved... Have you had lunch?<br />
No... I...<br />
Will you have lunch with me?<br />
Sure... Are you...<br />
Shall we go out? Outside College, I mean.<br />
Oh... Sure...<br />
Good... Let‘s go then. I‘ll lock this. There. Right. But involvement gives<br />
strong motivation, Miss... It will get you through the tedium of research.<br />
Sometimes, Doctor White, I get so mad that I want to tear up his books.<br />
Good. That creates a boundary of resistance that you can work against. But<br />
you have to remain objective. That‘s the benefit for you... It brings passion and<br />
thought into harness... Oh good. The sun is shining... What do you think of the Irish<br />
summer?<br />
Yuk... I‘ve never seen so much rain. Last night it kept me awake.<br />
It‘s no consolation, I suppose, but it is worse than usual... Do you like Dublin?<br />
The weather hasn‘t helped... I don‘t mean to be a grouse, Doctor White, but<br />
Dublin stinks.<br />
Hah. I see what you mean... But you haven‘t had time to make many fr<strong>ie</strong>nds<br />
yet, I daresay... Everyone is away.<br />
Everyone is so distant, Doctor White. I thought only the English were like<br />
that... The Irish are supposed to be open...<br />
Why did you come to Dublin?<br />
When I finished at Bryn Mawr I wanted to come to Europe. I had a choice of<br />
Saint Andrew‘s or Trinity.<br />
And why Trinity rather than Saint Andrew‘s?<br />
A fr<strong>ie</strong>nd had decided to come here.<br />
Good. Then you have a fr<strong>ie</strong>nd from home with you.<br />
She went back last week... She couldn‘t stand the place...<br />
No? But if she had come to study and not just to socialise?<br />
She just couldn‘t get on with her supervisor.<br />
What department?<br />
History.<br />
Ah... Who was her supervisor?<br />
Professor Dodgeson... Do you know him? Maybe I shouldn‘t...<br />
Oh, that‘s all right... Just gossip... Goes on all the time... But Dodgeson... He<br />
can generate motivation... Yes, he can...<br />
But she hated him... She said he was supercilious...<br />
In here... It‘s small, but it seems reasonably clean... The rolls are alright...<br />
Tea?<br />
84
Sure... But I‘ll...<br />
No... Let me treat you... Make up for the weather and all that... Now... Can<br />
you manage?... Thank you...<br />
Sure... I‘ll take that... No...<br />
Over here, then? Rather than facing the wall... Like a trough... Good...<br />
He doesn‘t like Americans.<br />
Perhaps not... He may find them patronising.<br />
Damn!... The least we can expect is... You are all so defensive, Doctor White.<br />
It‘s sometimes hard to take Americans seriously.<br />
At least you are frank, Doctor White... Why?<br />
You are all so heavy... Do you know what I mean?<br />
I think so...<br />
So many attitudes. If makes you self-conscious... and I suppose egotistical...<br />
And then at the same time you are so... how will I put it? Strident... You know, not<br />
just emotional... There‘s a kind of hysteria just under the surface... Your men are the<br />
same... The slightest check to their assertiveness and they look ready to cry... to bawl<br />
is a better image... There... But don‘t take it to heart, Miss Hungen.<br />
I won‘t... I asked for it... Am I strident?<br />
Frankly?<br />
Frankly .<br />
I would say you are peevish rather...<br />
Peevish!<br />
Well, you asked... Perhaps it‘s the weather. It can get one down... There‘s so<br />
much rain... And I expect you are lonely... Anyone might be the same in your<br />
situation.<br />
And self-conscious?<br />
Very... But that is partly your age, I expect.<br />
Wow... I asked for this.<br />
Well, to balance things, Miss Hungen... Tell me what you think of the Irish.<br />
Frankly?<br />
Yes. Why not?<br />
They‘re devious... repressed... infantile... especially the men... and callous...<br />
Okay?<br />
Well, devious, yes... Repressed? Yes, in a way... But callous? You mean<br />
unfeeling?<br />
No. I mean cruel, thoughtless... a kind of brutality.<br />
You mean violent?<br />
And that... They‘re very quick to strike one another... I mean mothers seem to<br />
hit their children out of habit...<br />
You see this on the streets?<br />
Yes. Everywhere.<br />
It sounds depressing.<br />
Haven‘t you noticed?<br />
I suppose I never go to those areas of Dublin... Have you walked in the poor<br />
areas of New York?<br />
Hell no... I see what you mean... But even in the middle classes, Doctor White.<br />
Oh, I‘m not excusing it, Miss Hungen... I think you are right... Violence is<br />
endemic here... I know a different image is presented abroad by the tourist<br />
organisations, but it is a brutal soc<strong>ie</strong>ty as a whole... Compared say with England...<br />
And the United States?<br />
85
Not such callous brutality... not habitual, I mean... But a hysteria... An<br />
egotism... But I expect it‘s not that simple...<br />
Hysteria? The men, you mean?<br />
Both men and women... Perhaps paranoia is a better word... I mean,<br />
Americans are led to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they are such great individuals... The everyday social<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce must constantly threaten that image... Such big egos impinging on one<br />
another all the time...<br />
There are plenty of big egos here.<br />
Yes, I know... But the social... however you put it... it does act to<br />
counterbalance the egotism... Ah. You don‘t like that.<br />
How can you tell?<br />
You have a habit of curling your lips off your teeth...<br />
Uh?<br />
The eyes are usually a better indicator. But you wear glasses... Do you see?<br />
That shifts the emphasis on to your mouth... That usually happens.<br />
Hey! You really mean that?<br />
Mean what?<br />
That you can read my mind by the way my mouth moves?<br />
Not quite... The extremes... of reaction, especially.<br />
I better watch it.<br />
Why?<br />
I‘ll give myself away... Do all the Irish watch one another like that?<br />
Unconsciously, perhaps. But most people do anyway... But why are you afraid<br />
of giving yourself away? What have you got to hide?<br />
Hey!... I didn‘t mean that... It‘s a funny feeling, I guess... I feel... uh...<br />
Transparent?<br />
Yes... Naked.<br />
Hardly, Miss Hungen... You are quite opaque. Except, as I‘ve said, at the<br />
extremes... But you surely read those signs yourself... Perhaps you‘re not fully aware<br />
of it.<br />
The eyes, you say? I must remember that.<br />
And other parts. The head, the limbs... Hands are a dead giveaway... And<br />
women, then, have particular signs.<br />
What are they, Doctor White?<br />
Well, how she aligns her body... and her feet, when she‘s seated... And the<br />
tension in her breasts.<br />
You mean sexual signs? Like a come-on?<br />
Oh no. Not necessarily... Though they could be intended unconsciously...<br />
Then she could be surprised or shocked if a man responded to them...<br />
You read all these things in people?<br />
Sometimes. It depends on the context... But then most people do.<br />
I don‘t.<br />
I daresay you do... Have you finished?<br />
Yeah... That‘s very interesting, Doctor White. I must watch out for things like<br />
that.<br />
Yes... Ah. The sun is still shining... Learning is often simply a matter of<br />
becoming aware of what is there already... But tell me, why do you react so strongly<br />
to the idea of the social?<br />
The old European soc<strong>ie</strong>t<strong>ie</strong>s... The weight of convention... All the rules...<br />
People are like robots.<br />
86
Do you think so? But there is individual variation... People are never that<br />
restricted by rules... They break them all the time... Are the Irish rule-bound? It‘s an<br />
anc<strong>ie</strong>nt soc<strong>ie</strong>ty.<br />
There seems to be no rules at all here, Doctor White... Look how they park<br />
their cars. People jaywalk all the time.<br />
But in their ideas, I mean?<br />
Don‘t seem to have too many of them either.<br />
Hah... There might be something in that... Well, I shouldn‘t generalise, really.<br />
I‘ve never been to America... Back to the library?<br />
No... I‘ve got the books I need here.<br />
Rousseau?<br />
Yes... The Social Contract.<br />
Good luck... Look. If you haven‘t got it together by Tuesday, don‘t worry...<br />
It‘ll take a few months to work out the basics anyway... Don‘t feel rushed. You know<br />
what I mean?<br />
Sure... I guess I‘m used to one-semester courses. At Bryn Mawr we‘d get<br />
through five or six courses in a year.<br />
So I‘ve heard. Well, try to settle down to it. Think out your responses while<br />
you are thinking out Rousseau... It‘ll teach you things about yourself. After all, that‘s<br />
supposed to be one of the objectives of a liberal education.<br />
I guess you‘re right, Doctor White. But I feel... you know... Trinity College<br />
Dublin.<br />
Intimidated?<br />
That‘s it... Everyone is very sharp, you know... and yet they seem really laid<br />
back.<br />
Laid back? I must remember that... Well, good luck with your reading, Miss<br />
Hungen... Come and see me if you have any problems...<br />
Sure. I will... And thanks for the lunch, Doctor White. It was very interesting.<br />
I mean about the body signs...<br />
Oh, just some chat... It‘s all a matter of awareness, really... Goodbye, now...<br />
Have a nice weekend.<br />
Sure... And you... See you...<br />
it follows, then in the context of the above discussion, that Reason<br />
must be the source of objectivity and truth. On one hand, no other source for<br />
them is given. On the other, F says that objectivity, that is, objective thought,<br />
is not independent of Reason. Therefore, truth is not independent of Reason<br />
either, for truth and objectivity are inseparable, one defines the other.<br />
If this is the case, then it would seem that Reason is also the ‗source‘ of<br />
thought. Reason must be the source because, as in the case of truth and<br />
objectivity, (a) no other source for it is given, and (b) F says that (objective)<br />
thought is not independent of Reason.<br />
Two questions therefore arise:<br />
(1) What is the relation between thought and truth/objectivity?<br />
(2) What is judgement? This question arises because F gives an important<br />
function to judgement, the knowledge of the independence of truth from the<br />
recognition of truth, notwithstanding the fact that it appears, from the<br />
87
discussion above, to be either unnecessary or impossible.<br />
(1) To begin with, the terms ‗true‘/‘objective‘ would seem to stand in a<br />
qualitative relation to the term ‗thought‘. But this impl<strong>ie</strong>s that (a) there can be<br />
a thought which is not so qualif<strong>ie</strong>d, and (b) there can be a ‗thought‘ which is<br />
qualif<strong>ie</strong>d by the negatives of ‗true‘ and ‗objective‘. But it is clear from F‘s<br />
arguments that a ‗thought‘, as such, must be ‗true‘ and ‗objective‘ in order to<br />
rank as a thought. Strictly speaking, the phrase ‗objective thought‘ contains a<br />
redundant element. So, with reference to (a) above, ‗thought‘ need not be<br />
qualif<strong>ie</strong>d; it is only qualif<strong>ie</strong>d in order to explain its nature, that ‗thought‘ is<br />
true and objective. With reference to (b), the possibility of a negative<br />
qualification of ‗thought‘ does not arise. On one hand, F opposed human<br />
‗ideas‘, which are definitionally neither true nor objective, to ‗thought‘. On the<br />
other, the polarity of positive and negative, of affirmation or denial, does not<br />
exist for Reason. All thoughts are positive; that is, Reason ‗contains‘ only<br />
affirmation – Reason can only affirm the true and the objective. Thus, for the<br />
purpose of analysis, the opposite of truth is not untruth or negativity, but<br />
ABSENCE. In other words, that which is not ‗in‘ Reason is absent, it simply<br />
has no relation with Reason.<br />
But Frege speaks on occasions of ‗thoughts‘. What is the relation of<br />
such a plurality to truth and objectivity?<br />
This raises the question: Are truth/objectivity and thought identical?<br />
From the present perspective it seems that they are. There is no thought that is<br />
not true and objective. Conversely, of what else can it be said that it is true and<br />
objective? According to Frege, there is nothing else. Put otherwise, can<br />
truth/objectivity be regarded as distinct from thought? Within the context of<br />
the image of Reason developed above, the answer must be no. If<br />
truth/objectivity was distinct from thought, then the posited unity of Reason<br />
would be den<strong>ie</strong>d, for there are no relations ‗within‘ Reason.<br />
However, Frege has elsewhere apparently made a distinction between<br />
truth and thought, as when he writes: ‗Thus the word ―true‖ seems to make<br />
possible the impossible,<br />
Yes? Come in!<br />
Doctor White?<br />
Yes?<br />
Sorry to disturb you, Doctor. I dropped by on the off-chance... If you‘re busy,<br />
I can come back again.<br />
What is it?<br />
My name is James MacShane. I‘m a journalist. I wonder if I could ask you a<br />
few questions.<br />
Yes? Do sit... There...<br />
Thank you, Doctor White... I‘m preparing a ser<strong>ie</strong>s of articles for an Irish<br />
magazine... a serious political journal, Doctor... on the various aspects of Irish<br />
neutrality...<br />
Yes?<br />
It‘s to be done in depth, Doctor... I plan to get the v<strong>ie</strong>ws of all serious<br />
authorit<strong>ie</strong>s and commentators... You‘re a lecturer in political philosophy here in<br />
Trinity... and I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you‘ve written on the subject in a national newspaper...<br />
88
I haven‘t.<br />
Uhh? What?<br />
I haven‘t written on the subject.<br />
Why not?<br />
Did you know that?<br />
Know what?<br />
That I hadn‘t written on the subject.<br />
I was told you had.<br />
By whom?<br />
I can‘t remember now, Doctor. It‘s not important anyway.<br />
Did you check?<br />
The article? Not yet... You see, I want fresh material, new v<strong>ie</strong>ws... This will be<br />
an important ser<strong>ie</strong>s, Doctor.<br />
What magazine, Mister MacShane?<br />
I can‘t tell you yet, Doctor. The details haven‘t been finalised.<br />
Are you a free-lance journalist?<br />
Yes.<br />
Have you written on the subject before?<br />
Yes.<br />
Where was it published?<br />
In an American magazine.<br />
Which one ?<br />
It was a small publication, Doctor.<br />
The title?<br />
The New Democrat. In California. It closed down last year. You know the<br />
type, Doctor. There are thousands of them over there.<br />
Who financed it?<br />
Oh, come on, I don‘t know.<br />
I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you, Mister MacShane.<br />
It‘s true, Doctor White. I swear it... I was asked to do it. I sent it to an address<br />
in New York.<br />
What was the article about?<br />
The connections between the ee ee cee and nato.<br />
Is that your interest?<br />
That‘s what I was asked to do... Anyway, why all these questions? Will you<br />
give me the interv<strong>ie</strong>w or won‘t you?<br />
I won‘t.<br />
Why not?<br />
Two reasons. One, I couldn‘t be sure what use you would make of it. Two,<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it or not, Mister MacShane, there is little or no discussion of neutrality in the<br />
history of political philosophy. That means, academically, that I could have very little<br />
to say on the subject.<br />
But privately, Doctor White. That is your personal v<strong>ie</strong>w?<br />
You said you intended interv<strong>ie</strong>wing serious authorit<strong>ie</strong>s and commentators. I<br />
am neither.<br />
Why are you so uncooperative, Doctor White? Are you not in favour of Irish<br />
neutrality?<br />
Why do you insist upon interv<strong>ie</strong>wing me, Mister MacShane, when it‘s obvious<br />
that I am not the sort of person you are looking for?<br />
You lecture on political philosophy here, Doctor White. People would expect<br />
89
you to have an opinion.<br />
As a lecturer, I don‘t have an opinion.<br />
It‘s going to look as though you‘re against neutrality, Doctor White.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
It‘s the sort of situation where if you‘re not with us, then you‘re against us.<br />
Are you blackmailing me, Mister MacShane?<br />
I‘m talking about public opinion, Doctor White.<br />
Public opinion will hardly notice my silence. Unless, of course, you draw their<br />
attention to it. Yes. Well, I‘ll go back to the beginning again. I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you,<br />
Mister MacShane. I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you are what you say you are.<br />
Here... That‘s my press card.<br />
Fair enough. In that case, I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you are preparing a ser<strong>ie</strong>s of articles<br />
on neutrality for a serious political journal.<br />
Why not?<br />
You are not of that calibre.<br />
Fuck you!<br />
Goodbye, Mister MacShane.<br />
You‘re a Protestant bastard!<br />
I‘ll call the porters.<br />
And I bet you would... I‘ll see you again, White, and next time you won‘t be<br />
so cool. Wait and see, you Protestant bastard!<br />
Hello?<br />
Porters‘ Lodge .<br />
Good. This is White, in politics department.<br />
Yes, Doctor White?<br />
Will you keep an eye out for a man. He should pass you any moment now. He<br />
has reddish hair, somewhat unruly. He‘s wearing a white and grey zip jacket and grey<br />
cords. And he has a blue canvas bag with a shoulder strap.<br />
Got it, Doctor. Red hair, grey clothes, blue bag?<br />
That‘s it. He‘s in his late twent<strong>ie</strong>s, I‘d say, but he might seem older.<br />
Late twent<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
I want to know if he has been around before. And, I suppose, if anything is<br />
known about him. Will you do that?<br />
Right, Doctor... Any trouble?<br />
Not really. I‘m just curious. Perhaps there‘s nothing in it.<br />
Right. I‘ll ring you back.<br />
Thanks.<br />
namely, to make that which corresponds to the assertive appear to be<br />
contributing to the thought.‘<br />
One two four six. Yes?<br />
90
Doctor White?<br />
Yes.<br />
Porters‘ Lodge here. That man has just left the College.<br />
Yes?<br />
He‘s been seen around before alright, Doctor. Usually in the evenings. I<br />
expect he attends meetings.<br />
Any idea what kind of meetings?<br />
Hold on, Doctor... Hello?<br />
Yes.<br />
It‘s hard to say, Doctor. You know how it is. There are a lot of meetings in<br />
here, and a lot come in from outside to attend them. He‘s never stood out... You can<br />
tell with some what kind of meetings they‘re going to. But I‘d say student meetings,<br />
Doctor. He‘s that sort.<br />
I see.<br />
Do you know anything about him, Doctor? Like what he does.<br />
He‘s a kind of journalist. He has a card.<br />
Ah that. Yes. He would be that type alright, Doctor. Writes for small papers?<br />
Yes.<br />
Some kind of radical maybe.<br />
Perhaps.<br />
Or else on the look out for something new. There‘s that sort too... There was<br />
no trouble, was there, Doctor?<br />
Oh no. No trouble. I just wondered if you would know him.<br />
Not much, I‘m afraid... a lot of people come in and out. We can‘t check<br />
everyone.<br />
No, of course not... But you have been a help.<br />
We can keep an eye out for him. I mean if he comes in the afternoon again.<br />
Let you know like.<br />
Yes. That‘s very good of you. But don‘t put yourselves out.<br />
It‘s our job, Doctor.<br />
Well, thank you anyway. Goodbye.<br />
Goodbye, Doctor.<br />
But Frege is here discussing what he sees as the peculiarity of logic, that is, of<br />
the analysis of propositions. It is not part of his account of Reason. Within<br />
Reason, truth and thought cannot be distinguished, for there they are the one<br />
‗thing‘.<br />
However, the reference to a plurality of thought suggests that there are<br />
discrete thoughts ‗within‘ Reason. If this is so, what is the relation between<br />
truth/objectivity and these various thoughts?<br />
On one hand it is obvious that all these thoughts are true and objective,<br />
otherwise they would not be ‗in‘ Reason. But in what way are these thoughts<br />
true and objective? If, for instance, the thoughts are discrete and dissimilar in<br />
some significant way, do they share one truth and objectivity or is truth and<br />
objectivity particular to individual thoughts? That is, if ‗thought‘ and<br />
‗truth‘/‘objectivity‘ are identical, how can identity obtain in one way, all<br />
thoughts are true/objective, and yet not in another, all true objective thoughts<br />
91
are discrete and dissimilar? The answer seems to be that either<br />
truth/objectivity is particular to a thought, and so identical, in which case there<br />
is a plurality of truth/objectivity, or else there is only one thought, in which<br />
case there is only one truth/ objectivity.<br />
This of course is the problem impl<strong>ie</strong>d by F at the level of analysis: the<br />
word ‗true‘ need not appear in a proposition in order that that proposition be<br />
true. Frege says that truth cannot be defined, and that the objective relations<br />
between a thought and truth cannot be described. He attributes this problem to<br />
the imperfection of ordinary language, and continues: ‗If a perfectly logical<br />
language were possible, such semantic considerations would be unnecessary.‘<br />
However, it is now clear that this is not so, at least to the extent of an<br />
account of Reason. There remains the problem, detailed above: either there is<br />
a plurality of thought and a plurality of truth/objectivity or else a singular<br />
thought and a singular truth/ objectivity. Now, Frege on one hand speaks of<br />
‗thoughts‘ and on the other makes it clear that truth/objectivity is a singularity.<br />
In this case, there cannot be an identity of thoughts and truth/objectivity, for<br />
the reasons given above. Therefore, (a) truth/objectivity, per se, is distinct<br />
from thoughts, so that (b) some kind of relation must obtain between<br />
truth/objectivity and thoughts.<br />
There are a number of answers to (a) and (b):<br />
(1) If Frege‘s account of Reason is to stand, then truth/objectivity and thoughts<br />
are not distinct, so that the question of a relation between them does not arise.<br />
Truth/objectivity and thoughts are identical.<br />
(2) In that case, there is only one thought. What is that thought? Obviously,<br />
given F‘s account of Reason, that thought is the thought of Reason thinking<br />
Reason. That is, if there is only one thought, then that thought is solipsistic.<br />
(3) What if there is a plurality of thought? Given that a plurality of thought<br />
impl<strong>ie</strong>s a number of discrete and dissimilar thoughts, it follows that these<br />
thoughts must be more than true and objective. That is, they must possess<br />
particular contents which differ from thought to thought. The nature of these<br />
contents is not important here, only the fact that they differ from thought to<br />
thought.<br />
Given that these different contents cannot be identical with<br />
truth/objectivity, how then do they relate within Reason? To say that that do<br />
not relate, or that they need not, is to say that there is a plurality, this time of<br />
thought contents, within Reason. But how is this possible? How can difference<br />
coincide with sameness?<br />
There are two answers:<br />
(i) Difference can coincide with sameness to the extent that difference is<br />
compatible with sameness to the extent that they can coincide. That is,<br />
difference and sameness must be of the same nature. Now, Frege‘s account of<br />
Reason is ultimately an account of a presence as opposed to an absence. Hence<br />
Reason and the plurality of thought can be said to be present.<br />
But is this true?<br />
It is clear that thought is present ‗in‘ Reason because it is objective and<br />
true. Thus the presence of thought coincides with its objectivity and truth, it is<br />
not a secondary characteristic. From this, it is also clear that all ‗thoughts‘, in<br />
being objective and true, would also be present, because they would<br />
necessarily, as thoughts, possess this characteristic. Thus, it is possible for<br />
difference, as a plurality of thought possessing different contents, to be<br />
92
present, for what is present is a plurality of thought each of which possesses,<br />
as a thought, the characteristic of presence.<br />
The crucial question then is, Is Reason a presence? This has not been<br />
raised before, because F only discusses the presence of thought. Now,<br />
presence coincides with truth and objectivity. Hence, the question can be<br />
rephrased: Is Reason true and objective? But it can be seen immediately that<br />
the question has a more radical form: Is Reason a thought?<br />
In Frege‘s account, Reason seems not to be simply a thought. It seems<br />
to be the ‗container‘ of thought, that is, of that which is true and objective and<br />
therefore present – present ‗in‘ Reason. But in detail, another interpretation is<br />
possible. In saying that objectivity is not independent of Reason, the inference<br />
can be drawn that Reason must be objective. In that case, Reason must be a<br />
thought. Again, though the image of the content of the hand as its bones and<br />
muscles, that is, that which it is in-itself, impl<strong>ie</strong>s superficially a distinction<br />
between ‗hand‘ as the whole thing and its bones and muscles as that which<br />
constitutes it and therefore subsidiary, though not strictly speaking secondary,<br />
so that the ‗hand‘ can be said to contain its bones and muscles, a more radical<br />
interpretation is possible. It could be said to start with that the ‗hand‘ is<br />
nothing more than that which constitutes it. Analogically, Reason is no more<br />
than the thought(s) which constitute(s) it. The effect here is to dissolve the<br />
whole question of the nature of Reason into the question of the nature of<br />
thought(s). Thus, Reason is not more than the presence of thought(s). That is,<br />
there is nothing-in-itself, called Reason. Reason is simply our exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of<br />
the presence of thought(s). In this way we can say that Reason is a thought;<br />
specifically, Reason is the presence of thought(s).<br />
But, while the ‗hand‘ is in a sense nothing more than the contents<br />
which constitute it, in another sense, the ‗hand‘ is more than its constitutive<br />
contents. The ‗hand‘ can do things which neither bones nor muscles can do<br />
individually. Again, bones and muscles constitute other parts of the body,<br />
without those parts being necessarily called ‗hands‘. Thus, on this analogy,<br />
Reason can be said to be more than the thought(s) which constitute(s) it. In<br />
this case, categorically, Reason is more than a thought. But even so, unlike<br />
bones and muscles, which can constitute non-hand parts of the body, it would<br />
seem that thoughts can only constitute one thing, that is, Reason. On the basis<br />
of this analogy, Reason can be said (1) to be more than the thoughts which<br />
constitute it. But it is also the case that (2) thoughts can only constitute<br />
Reason, and nothing else. Hence, given this uniqueness of the thought/Reason<br />
constitution, it can be said that Reason is only the presence of thought(s) (the<br />
inference from the first analogy drawn above from the metaphor of the hand),<br />
in the sense that thought(s) can constitute nothing but Reason. At the same<br />
time, however, the second analogy also impl<strong>ie</strong>s that Reason is nonetheless<br />
‗more than‘ the thoughts that constitute it.<br />
What is Reason‘s ‗more than‘?<br />
By analogy, Reason, like the ‗hand‘, can do something which its<br />
constituent parts individually cannot. But F ascribes no specific function to<br />
Reason other than being the ‗container‘ of thought-truth-objectivity-presence.<br />
That this analogy does not hold can be seen from another perspective. The<br />
thought/Reason constitution is unique, for thought(s) can constitute only<br />
Reason and nothing else. That is, thought(s) can have presence only in<br />
Reason; put otherwise, thought(s) cannot be independent of Reason. In its<br />
93
uniqueness, Reason can have no functions, that is, relations, for there is<br />
nothing to which it can relate.<br />
The conclusions to be drawn are:<br />
(1) Obviously, sameness and difference coincide only to the extent that one or<br />
other possesses the characteristic of the other, that is, only to the extent that<br />
the same is also different, or vice versa.<br />
(2) The tendency of the above discussion is to describe the same in the<br />
different, rather than vice versa. The reason for this bias l<strong>ie</strong>s in the fact that F<br />
posits Reason as a singularity. To have sought the different in the same would<br />
have led to a denial of F‘s account of Reason.<br />
(3) But the discussion in any case supports F‘s account. The uniqueness of the<br />
thought(s)/Reason constitution reaffirms the singularity of Reason. To<br />
contradict this argument, one would have to show what else thought(s) could<br />
constitute.<br />
(4) Of course, there is an element of definitional circularity here. ‗Reason‘ is<br />
defined in terms of the abiding (necessary) attributes of thought(s) truthobjectivity-presence.<br />
But given these attributes, it must be admitted that if<br />
thought(s) was/were said to constitute any other thing, that thing would be<br />
indistinguishable from Reason.<br />
(5) Thus, it is the nature of thought(s) which defines Reason. But it is the<br />
attributes of sameness which so define Reason. The question of the different<br />
contents of thoughts remained outside the discussion. It would seem then that<br />
sameness and difference cannot coincide in the Reason/thought(s)<br />
constitution, because the constitution is unique, that is, it possesses sameness<br />
in being a singularity, and a unity cannot differ in and from itself.<br />
Nevertheless, it remains the case that F does refer to thought(s), that is,<br />
to a plurality, which definitionally must imply some element of difference.<br />
Therefore the second answer to the question of how sameness and difference<br />
coincide must be attempted.<br />
(ii) Sameness and difference do not share the same nature, therefore they<br />
coincide through a relation.<br />
This means that sameness and difference are different. Hence, this<br />
answer will be an attempt to discover the different in the same.<br />
Hello?<br />
Lotty!<br />
Mother!<br />
I‘m sorry I‘ve rung so late, dear, but Tom wants to go tonight.<br />
It‘s alright, mother. It‘s not too late... I‘ve just put Brian down.<br />
It‘s nine o‘clock, dear... It does seem awfully late to start out, but Tom wants<br />
to meet someone tomorrow morning before going West. We‘re going to stay<br />
somewhere close by tonight.<br />
That‘s nice, mother. It will add to the holiday.<br />
Yes. That‘s true, dear. He seems awfully busy though. I told him we could<br />
cancel the weekend if he wanted. There‘s no point in going down if he can‘t relax.<br />
I expect he‘ll relax once he has done his business in the morning, mother.<br />
Don‘t worry... It looks as though you might have better weather, too.<br />
Yes. It has taken up, hasn‘t it? Wasn‘t the rain last night terrible? It kept me<br />
94
awake. It was worse than anything I‘ve exper<strong>ie</strong>nced before.<br />
Oh I think the thunderstorm last week was worse.<br />
Do you? It‘s a pity I missed it. Everyone seems to have been wakened by it,<br />
except me... That was, oh... You know, dear... It was one of those nights, dear. I<br />
would have slept through the end of the world that night.<br />
And the thunder was so loud, mother... It is really amazing... I had to get up to<br />
feed Brian. But Dan slept soundly.<br />
Did he? I thought you said he sat at the window. You said you were terrif<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
for him.<br />
Oh no, mother. Last night. I‘m talking about last night.<br />
Oh yes? I daresay he would. He is working so hard... Tom is the same.<br />
But he got soaked coming home... Actually, he seemed to enjoy that. I mean,<br />
walking through the rain.<br />
How is Brian, Lotty?<br />
As usual, mother... No. Actually, he is restless for some reason.<br />
Since yesterday?<br />
Yes. We must have over-stimulated him yesterday. It is usually so qu<strong>ie</strong>t for<br />
him here.<br />
He hasn‘t a cold or anything, Lotty, has he?<br />
No. His temperature is normal. I checked today. But he‘s not cranky, mother,<br />
just restless. You know, agitated. He clutches at everything and he keeps looking<br />
around.<br />
Strange... Perhaps he will settle down... But you‘re sure he didn‘t catch a chill<br />
yesterday? The wind was very cold.<br />
I‘m positive, mother. I expect you are right, though. He will settle down... He<br />
is asleep now.<br />
Good. Give him my love, Lotty. I do dote on him, I know, but he is such a<br />
good boy. I really can‘t help it.<br />
I will, mother... I hope you have a nice weekend. Get plenty of air and sun,<br />
won‘t you. There won‘t be many more chances before winter comes.<br />
Oh winter. And after this miserable summer... Well, I hope Tom gets his<br />
business done quickly in the morning. He is so up in the air at the moment.<br />
Are you worr<strong>ie</strong>d about it, mother? It‘s not like you to fret about him.<br />
No. I‘m not worr<strong>ie</strong>d, dear. But he usually is so good at keeping business and<br />
pleasure separate. This is a last-minute thing. We don‘t want any snags.<br />
Oh I‘m sure he‘ll clear it up quickly, mother.<br />
Yes. I daresay you are right, Lotty. Still, you know what last-minute changes<br />
are like. They can lead to such complications. I suppose so long as there are no snags.<br />
Oh, mother, relax. Enjoy your weekend.<br />
Yes, dear... Oh... Do you feel restless, Lotty?<br />
Restless?<br />
Yes. You say Brian is restless... Is Dan?<br />
What on earth, mother? He‘s not home yet.<br />
No? But it is the holiday weekend, Lotty.<br />
Hah. We agreed that we will both be up in the air until October.<br />
So you are restless.<br />
No. Not restless, mother. Distracted. Breast-feeding Brian has thrown all our<br />
schedules out. And Dan is working on the paper. It‘ll be finished by October. It has to<br />
be.<br />
I see... It might be the moon or something. It affects me like that sometimes...<br />
95
As you say, don‘t worry... You are right, Lotty. Yes...<br />
That‘s right, mother... Now go along and enjoy yourself.<br />
There might be a snag... Oh stop it! Hah... I‘ll go now, dear. Love to Brian and<br />
Dan... Tom‘s ready... Goodbye, Lotty, goodbye.<br />
Goodbye, mother... And I hope there will be no hitches.<br />
Is that you, Dan?<br />
Yes, Charley. Who else? I‘m late again. I should really have... Oh, you haven‘t<br />
put Brian up yet? I thought it was late.<br />
It‘s nearly ten, I think... No. I had put him down. But I went up to check after<br />
mother rang... I don‘t know why... He was wide awake.<br />
Was he crying?<br />
Oh no. He had his hands up in the air.<br />
He was just playing, Charley. You should have left him... He doesn‘t have to<br />
sleep all the time, you know.<br />
Yes... But I decided to bring him down... He is restless, isn‘t he, Dan?<br />
I suppose that‘s because you brought him down. He‘s not used to that.<br />
Mother says she was restless too... She was in a funny mood... Apparently,<br />
they are going off tonight. Tom has to see someone early in the morning. Before they<br />
go down to Galway... Are you restless?<br />
No. Not that I know of... Do I seem restless?<br />
No... Do I?<br />
No.<br />
Mother says she thinks it is the moon... Is the moon full?<br />
I didn‘t notice. I think it was earl<strong>ie</strong>r in the week.<br />
That‘s probably it then. She says it affects her sometimes. Though I‘ve never<br />
noticed that.<br />
The full moon is supposed to be brighter this time of the year.<br />
Is that so? Yes. Perhaps it is that... She did seem keyed up... And she said that<br />
Tom was too.<br />
More than likely it is the excitement of the holiday... I mean, the weather has<br />
been so bad.<br />
Yes. And she can be such a worr<strong>ie</strong>r at times... How is the paper?<br />
Oh coming along... It‘s not going in circles anyway.<br />
Did you think it was?<br />
It‘s so unlike anything I have ever written, Charley... I would not have thought<br />
I was a philosopher.<br />
Is that what it is, Dan? Philosophy?<br />
In a way... Actually, it is a route, in a sense, from one part of my main<br />
argument to another.<br />
What is it about?<br />
Truth and reason.<br />
Yes. That sounds philosophical... What has it to do with the history of ideas?<br />
I suppose the question I‘m investigating at the moment is, What are ideas, that<br />
they can have a history?<br />
And what answer do you have?<br />
Nothing at the moment... I‘m still investigating.<br />
It does sound interesting, Dan... But is it not too technical? I mean, what will<br />
96
Professor Dodgeson think? He is a historian.<br />
Dodgeson? This is not the paper, Charley. It‘s more like background stuff. It<br />
often happens. I wrote a thirty page paper for MacBr<strong>ie</strong>n during my research which<br />
finally had nothing to do with my thesis... You see? I had to learn about it, even<br />
though it wasn‘t relevant.<br />
How tedious, Dan... No wonder I never contemplated doing research.<br />
It‘s not that bad, Charley... Sometimes learning can be a matter of finding out<br />
what is not relevant.<br />
You should know what you are doing by now... Have you eaten?<br />
No. Have you?<br />
I had a snack. I decided to wait until you came home.<br />
Good... Do you want me to cook?<br />
Will you?<br />
Sure. What is there?<br />
I bought some sirloin... I thought you might do your specialty... with pepper<br />
and mustard.<br />
Oh yes... I‘ll enjoy that... Would you like some tea?<br />
Yes... And there‘s spinach. It‘s fresh.<br />
Good... Should you put Brian up?<br />
Look at him, Dan. He‘s wide awake... I‘d like him to stay with us. Do you<br />
mind?<br />
No. Not for tonight anyway... He is very alert, Charley... Brian... Brian... How<br />
are you, old son?<br />
He‘s not gripping your finger, Dan.<br />
No... It‘s as though he is preoccup<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
Isn‘t it? Yes...<br />
Did anything happen to him?<br />
No... Mother thought it was the excitement yesterday.<br />
Nothing happened yesterday, did it?<br />
No... You know how mother dotes on him... She makes such a fuss.<br />
Well, he should settle down.<br />
Yes... Now. Start dinner, Dan. I‘m ravenous.<br />
Okay...<br />
Did you see someone today, Dan?<br />
Why yes... How did you know?<br />
You seem preoccup<strong>ie</strong>d too... I mean, behind everything.<br />
My jap student... She‘s having problems with Rousseau.<br />
Is it a burden?<br />
Not really. Her problem is not strictly an academic one... Academically, she is<br />
on her own. I‘ve made that clear to her... No. It‘s some kind of personal hang-up...<br />
She has a remarkable contempt for him.<br />
Should she not have?<br />
Academically, no... She seems to be taking him very personally... I mean as a<br />
man.<br />
Oh... Does jap have it down on all men?<br />
I don‘t know, Charley. I haven‘t asked her... Anyway, that‘s not an academic<br />
matter.<br />
She might have... She sounds a bit of what the Americans call a ball-breaker.<br />
A ball-breaker?<br />
Yes. Graphic, isn‘t it?<br />
97
Three-dimensional... I told her she was peevish.<br />
Did you? That‘s not very academic.<br />
But she does gripe about everything.<br />
Gripe?<br />
Her word... She whines... Though she whines aggressively, if you know what I<br />
mean... Gripe seems to describe it better.<br />
But peevish, Dan?<br />
What‘s wrong with that?<br />
Perhaps she wants attention... She must be lonely here. Everyone is away and<br />
the weather is miserable.<br />
She can go to a club or something, can‘t she?<br />
I wouldn‘t... Ugh.<br />
She‘s a ball-breaker... She‘d be well able for it.<br />
They are fairly insensitive. You know the kind, Dan. Lusty with a half bottle<br />
of whiskey aboard.<br />
What? Where did you get all these expressions, Charley?<br />
What‘s wrong with them?<br />
It‘s not like you to be so pungent... Ha... Got it.<br />
What?<br />
You sitting there with your baby in your lap... You are jealous.<br />
Jealous? Are you serious?<br />
Well, don‘t be... It‘s strictly academic.<br />
I know that, Dan... But it looks as though she is on the prowl.<br />
Prowl! She probably has no one else to talk to, Charley.<br />
Why did she come here? Not academic brilliance, from what you have told<br />
me.<br />
That‘s true... I suppose a chance to spend a year in Europe.<br />
And get herself a European... I remember some of the one-year American<br />
students. Some of them had a phantasy of marrying an aristocrat.<br />
Hhh! That leaves me out... So there.<br />
But they wouldn‘t know an aristocrat if they met one. For them, aristocracy is<br />
style, that‘s all.<br />
Louis the fourteenth‘s pensioners?<br />
Exactly.<br />
Not the busy barons of the middle ages.<br />
No... They‘re too much like their own capitalist barons.<br />
Indeed.<br />
But you‘ve got style, Dan.<br />
Is that what it is?<br />
That‘s how it appears to your jap... And she probably thinks she is classy New<br />
York.<br />
But she‘s not liberated, Charley. Not really... Ah. I‘ve just realised. She‘s mad<br />
because the intellectual Rousseau was impotent.<br />
Impotent? Did she say that?<br />
She impl<strong>ie</strong>d that all men... at least eighteenth century Frenchmen... were<br />
impotent.<br />
Hardly the reason for getting so annoyed.<br />
No... But Rousseau took up with an illiterate serving girl... Is that it? The<br />
intellectual looking for the body and never mind the head, that is, the educated<br />
woman?<br />
98
That‘s more like it.<br />
Doesn‘t say much for you, Charley.<br />
Does she know of me?<br />
No.<br />
She probably thinks I must be pretty stupid if I‘m not out in the world... You<br />
know, peevish and ambitious.<br />
Well, you are not peevish. Nor are you stupid.<br />
Did Rousseau and the serving girl have any children?<br />
Several... Rousseau put them into an orphanage.<br />
Did he?<br />
Yes. That really made her mad.<br />
Why?<br />
He didn‘t treat them like human beings... Nor, for that matter, did he regard<br />
women as being human beings... She‘s written a paper about it... which I must read.<br />
You mean she has written a research paper about her gripe?<br />
No. It‘s more objective than that. It‘s about man in the state of nature. You<br />
know, the noble savage. Actually, her point is a good one. She argues that because<br />
Rousseau bel<strong>ie</strong>ved that the noble savage lived happily in isolation... he was happy<br />
because he didn‘t have to compete with other men... it follows that he must have<br />
gained sexual satisfaction in isolation also. But he could only have such satisfaction<br />
by means of some kind of relation with a woman. This means that the woman must<br />
have been treated as a natural object... like a fruit tree, for instance... and not as<br />
another human being... As I say, it is an interesting point... But she is taking Rousseau<br />
himself too much to heart in the process... I told her she was peevish to make her<br />
conscious of the fact... She might stop complaining now and get on with her work...<br />
This is nearly ready. What about Brian?<br />
I‘ll put him on the floor where he can see us... It is interesting, Dan... What do<br />
you think?<br />
How?<br />
Is it true?<br />
In Rousseau‘s case, yes... Actually, like a lot of theorists, the only way he talks<br />
about relations between men and women... sexual relations, I mean... is within the<br />
context of marriage. As a social relationship, I mean, not as a natural or personal<br />
relationship... Sit up to the table, Charley. I‘m bringing it in.<br />
Sounds an interesting paper, Dan.<br />
Perhaps... I don‘t know how she works it out... Here you are.<br />
I‘m going to enjoy this, Dan. I‘m starving.<br />
Good... The steak is very tender... Thick, too.<br />
Yes. I thought you would cook it.<br />
Did you? I did mean to come home early tonight... But I wanted to finish a<br />
section. I‘m always afraid I‘ll lose the thread of the argument if I leave it over.<br />
Is it very demanding?<br />
Not in the way I expected... This steak is good, Charley. You‘re a good judge<br />
of food, do you know that?<br />
Hah... Thank you. It‘s a kind of instinct, I suppose... I didn‘t plan to buy it. But<br />
when I saw it in the window, I immediately thought of you cooking it.<br />
Do you want some wine? I forgot.<br />
No. Not for me.<br />
Me neither. The food will do the trick.<br />
Can I read it?<br />
99
The paper? They are only notes.<br />
No. The jap‘s paper, I mean.<br />
That? Why not?<br />
Do you think she will mind?<br />
No. She might actually be flattered... I‘ll bring it out on Monday... Tuesday<br />
rather... It‘s a pity Brian can‘t join us yet... But it‘s nice that he‘s here anyway...<br />
It‘s strange, Dan... He‘s practically ignoring us.<br />
Mmm? Yes. You are right... What is he thinking of, do you think?<br />
Nothing, I expect... Perhaps bab<strong>ie</strong>s of his age do that... Become more<br />
interested in their surroundings.<br />
He is staring at the lamp, Charley... He‘s not really looking around him. Brian!<br />
Brian, old son.<br />
How grave he is... It is as though he was thinking about something... But he‘s<br />
really too young to do that... Isn‘t he?<br />
Are you sure nothing happened to him?<br />
Yes... Oh... I told mother what you had said last week about telepathy. She<br />
decided to try it...<br />
Did she?<br />
She projected... or whatever... an image of love to Brian and he kicked. It was<br />
quite remarkable.<br />
Perhaps he heard his name or something.<br />
You don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve her?<br />
It‘s not that, Charley... But consciousness destroys those sort of powers.<br />
I suggested that... Mother called his name and he didn‘t kick... But he did kick<br />
when she projected her love at him.<br />
Your mother is uncanny.<br />
Are you joking, Dan?<br />
No. Not really... But she is spontaneous in her feelings... She could do it.<br />
Couldn‘t we? I sometimes pick up your moods.<br />
Sympathy. It‘s not very specific.<br />
If we tr<strong>ie</strong>d it.<br />
Why? Just to see if it would work?<br />
No... Perhaps to see what is worrying him.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
But you are the one who introduced the idea.<br />
I was speculating... It must have been an idle moment.<br />
It seems to have worked for mother.<br />
Do it, then... It will either work or it will not.<br />
No... I‘d rather you did it.<br />
Why?<br />
I feel I‘m too close to him.<br />
And... Very well... I‘ll do it after dinner. Though I can‘t see it working for me.<br />
Why not?<br />
My head is full of this paper.<br />
Oh, try it anyway... Go on.<br />
Afterwards.<br />
No. Now... Do it now.<br />
Curiosity... Brian...<br />
Don‘t speak... Project it...<br />
Let me do it my way, Charley.<br />
100
is it?<br />
Sorry.<br />
Brian... Brian... What‘s wrong? Tell your daddy... Look at me... Here... What<br />
Well?<br />
Mmm?<br />
What is it, Dan? Don‘t tease me. I saw his expression change.<br />
Yes... It did, didn‘t it? When he looked at me, I had a distinct image of a<br />
flower.<br />
A flower? What kind of flower?<br />
I don‘t know... The image was distinct... as a flower, I mean... but each time I<br />
concentrated on it, it became blurred... You see? I don‘t think Brian knows what an<br />
actual flower looks like yet... His eyesight isn‘t that good yet... I call it a flower<br />
because... that‘s what it most seems like to me.<br />
Was it coloured?<br />
In a way... I suspect it was whatever colour I thought it was.<br />
He‘s watching you, Dan... Is he listening?<br />
Are you, Brian? He is... You‘re afraid, Charley?<br />
It‘s weird... I feel it along my spine.<br />
What are you afraid of?<br />
I can‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve he‘s communicating with you, Dan... I just can‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it,<br />
that‘s all.<br />
Perhaps it is my imagination... Suggestion, I mean.<br />
No... I can see that he is... He is looking at you so intently.<br />
You do it, Charley... He‘d like that.<br />
No! No, Dan.<br />
Why not? It won‘t do any harm.<br />
I don‘t want to.<br />
Brian can hear you.<br />
Oh! It‘s silly, Dan... You can‘t talk to a month-old infant... It has to... Oh...<br />
oh...<br />
Brian!... Charley... Charley, what is it? Come back... Charley... Wait...<br />
Oh, oh.<br />
What is it, Charley? Why are you so frightened?<br />
We shouldn‘t be doing this, Dan... We must treat him like a baby... a human<br />
baby... It‘s not right, Dan.<br />
Come back inside, Charley... Come on, sweetheart. I‘ll make some coffee... Sit<br />
down... You‘re letting yourself get overwrought... I‘ll put the coffee on and then take<br />
Brian upstairs...<br />
I‘m alright, Dan... I think I lost my nerve... But do you understand? We<br />
shouldn‘t be doing this to him, Dan. It‘ll make him very unhappy later.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
You‘re not letting him forget.<br />
Forget? Forget what?<br />
I don‘t know what it is, Dan... But you must let him become a human being.<br />
What is he now, Charley?<br />
A baby... A very immature human being... You said it yourself.<br />
When?<br />
The night Maire MacMahon called... You said we had to destroy something in<br />
children in order to make them adults.<br />
But I didn‘t mean it in that sense.<br />
101
I know you meant something like innocence, Dan... But it is more than that.<br />
What is it, then?<br />
It‘s what mother means when she calls him good.<br />
But that is innocence, surely, Charley.<br />
No... It makes her joyous and... well, eager – like compelling love or beauty.<br />
The flower?<br />
Yes... I suppose so.<br />
Didn‘t you see it?<br />
No.<br />
Then why were you so upset?<br />
It was wrong... I knew that suddenly.<br />
You didn‘t see the flower?<br />
No. I forgot... Obviously you didn‘t.<br />
But there was something else.<br />
It‘s hard to say, Dan... It just came into my head then.<br />
What... Wait. I‘ll lower the coffee... What about Brian?.. Will I leave him?<br />
Yes... He knows already, Dan.<br />
How?<br />
He does... But it‘s this, Dan. I‘ll tell you what came into my mind... He must<br />
forget... the mother... I... you know... must break trust.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
You remember my seal dream?<br />
Yes.<br />
That. You brought it into the open... That started the process... You woke me<br />
up... as a mother, I mean... It‘s very obscure I know, Dan... But this is what I<br />
understood...<br />
What about the seal?<br />
You remember I used to dream of it diving down and down into the sea?<br />
Yes.<br />
Well, that was me... in a sense... I was diving after my baby... Brian.<br />
And?<br />
Do you understand that?<br />
It makes sense... I mean, symbolically.<br />
Good... Well, the flower... as you call it... that is Brian‘s image of me... Not<br />
exactly me... what he remembers.<br />
You mean while he was part of you?<br />
I don‘t know... Birth arouses something... I don‘t know what. It could be more<br />
than that. Being in the womb, I mean.<br />
Some kind of prior existence. As in Plato?<br />
Plato? Oh yes... I don‘t know, Dan... I honestly don‘t know... All I know is<br />
that I should forget the seal... Which I have done... Thanks to you... And Brian is to<br />
forget the flower.<br />
How?<br />
Perhaps through you.<br />
This is suspiciously like Freud, you know.<br />
Yes, it is... But this is not just psychology... You have the distance already,<br />
Dan... Don‘t be offended... But you are a kind of outsider... Do you understand that?<br />
Yes... Oh I‘m being wry, Charley... I‘m not offended... How do I do it? It<br />
seems very cruel.<br />
It‘s necessary... It would be crueller if you didn‘t... He would suffer so much...<br />
102
But... yes... Remember I said that you treated him as though he was a member of your<br />
gang?.. Well, like that, I think.<br />
Identification, you mean?<br />
Yes... He‘ll become like you... a man, I mean... It is so sad, Dan... We have to<br />
separate from him like that... It must be the saddest thing.<br />
I know.<br />
Do you?<br />
Yes. I felt it before he was an hour old.<br />
Did you? You didn‘t tell me.<br />
I thought it might hurt you... It came to me quite clearly... The instant I let my<br />
love for him flow I knew he was another person... Distinct from me, I mean... He<br />
wasn‘t simply mine in the way an object could be... You seem a bit put out, Charley.<br />
I thought you didn‘t know, Dan... I thought men couldn‘t know that... Daddy...<br />
He must have known... I always thought he didn‘t know... Mother always seemed to<br />
protect him.<br />
I daresay he knew at some point or other... But he may have let himself forget<br />
it... That can be done.<br />
Yes... Perhaps... But I must think about it, Dan... No. I won‘t have any<br />
coffee... I‘ll take Brian up... I‘ll l<strong>ie</strong> down too... Do you mind?<br />
Mmm? No... I‘ll have some coffee... But I‘ll come up soon... But isn‘t it rather<br />
soon after dinner?<br />
Not for one night... Come on, Brian... You‘re tired, aren‘t you?<br />
Charley... How do you feel?<br />
Rel<strong>ie</strong>ved... We seemed to have cleared something up... Do you agree?<br />
Yes... Perhaps we are over the crisis of birth now.<br />
Crisis? Yes... That‘s a good way of putting it... Goodnight, darling...<br />
Goodnight... Goodnight, old son... Sleep well.<br />
103
II<br />
104
SATURDAY<br />
What time is it, Dan ?<br />
Good morning, sweetheart. It‘s about half-ten. Did you sleep well?<br />
So-so... I feel so heavy.<br />
Perhaps that‘s because you slept on a full stomach.<br />
Yes. That‘s probably it... Did you sleep well?<br />
I seemed to dream the same dream all night. I don‘t remember any details... It<br />
was more like thinking than dreaming... You know the feeling... of being half-awake<br />
and aware and yet oblivious of everything but the thought.<br />
Yes. I know that feeling... I think I slept heavily... I‘ve only a hazy memory of<br />
getting up to fed Brian... I must have done... Where is he? I‘ve just remembered he<br />
wasn‘t in the room... I must feed him.<br />
He‘s in the garden... It‘s quite sunny. I put him down by the wall. It‘s out of<br />
the wind... I fed him.<br />
How? I...<br />
I found the bottles and preparation you bought yesterday... No. It‘s okay. I<br />
followed all the instructions carefully... Actually, it‘s much like making yoghurt.<br />
Except of course you give the preparation to Brian rather than incubating it.<br />
How did he respond?<br />
I think he was a bit annoyed... But he was hungry.<br />
Oh... It has to be done sooner or later... Probably just as well... I wasn‘t sure<br />
how to introduce the bottle.<br />
Yes. Perhaps it‘s as well I did it... Anyway, I wanted you to sleep on, Charley.<br />
Thank you, Dan... That was considerate... I‘ll breast feed him next time... I<br />
think we should alternate the feeds. What do you think?<br />
Something like that... But give him a bottle at night. Then I can take turns with<br />
you.<br />
Do you want to, Dan? It‘ll break your sleep and you have this paper.<br />
It‘ll give you a break... It‘ll take less than an hour.<br />
A bottle at night is a good idea perhaps... You don‘t have to get up in the<br />
night... You could feed him in the morning... I would prefer that.<br />
Very well... Will you miss not feeding him? Breast-feeding, I mean.<br />
In a way... But it causes a lot of discomfort. If only he wasn‘t so aggressive.<br />
But as you say, it would have to be stopped sometime. Now is obviously the<br />
time... Do you want breakfast?<br />
Yes... No... Just cereal... I‘ll... Oh look...<br />
What is it?<br />
There‘s a bird on the edge of the pram.<br />
Where? It‘s a magp<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
Oh chase it away, Dan... It might attack Brian... They peck out eyes.<br />
Don‘t be silly, Charley... Hoi!... Scat!<br />
Krk!<br />
Dan, it‘s not moving!... Be careful!<br />
Scat!<br />
Krk!<br />
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Go!... Get off!...<br />
Krk!<br />
How is he?<br />
Come out, Charley... The magp<strong>ie</strong> won‘t hurt you... They are very cautious, as<br />
a rule... Look... Brian seems to have enjoyed that.<br />
He wasn‘t frightened?<br />
No... Look at how bright his eyes are.<br />
Brian... I‘ll take him up.<br />
There it is... Do you see? In the sycamore... And look... There‘s its mate. Just<br />
above... There... to the right... They mate for life. They are always together.<br />
Krk!<br />
Krkrkrk!<br />
Oh...<br />
What?<br />
Brian kicked.<br />
He likes them... Look how he lifts his hands towards them.<br />
But they are so big, Dan... They could be dangerous. Brian is helpless out<br />
here.<br />
Perhaps they are the first living things he has noticed... Other than a few<br />
adults... No wonder he is thrilled.<br />
I‘m going to take him in.<br />
Don‘t, Charley... The air is good for him... It‘ll soon be winter... I‘ll put some<br />
kind of screen across the hood... Anyway, I think I will do some work out here.<br />
In the garden?<br />
Yes... It‘s pretty scruffy after all the rain.<br />
I‘ll bring him in for a few moments, Dan... I haven‘t seen him this morning.<br />
Come and have your breakfast anyway...<br />
Dan.<br />
Yes?<br />
Aren‘t magp<strong>ie</strong>s supposed to bring bad luck?<br />
I hope not... There are a lot of them around now.<br />
But they say that to see just one predicts sorrow.<br />
It‘s mate was there, too... Two of them are for joy.<br />
But only one came down to Brian.<br />
That‘s how they operate... One comes into the garden to search for food, while<br />
the other stays up in the trees on watch... Haven‘t you noticed?<br />
No... I‘ve never paid any attention to them.<br />
I‘ve seen them do it hundreds of times in the garden... You‘d see one of them<br />
hopping about in the garden. Then it would call and its mate would answer. I suppose<br />
it‘s reporting.<br />
You make them seem very intelligent.<br />
I‘ll hold Brian while you eat... They are as intelligent as any life is... I mean,<br />
they are equal to the demands of their kind of existence.<br />
But the way it sat looking at Brian?<br />
Perhaps it had never seen a baby either.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
Why not? I expect that pair know this garden very well... It‘s the first time<br />
Brian has been put down there.<br />
So you don‘t think it was some kind of omen?<br />
Oh hardly, Charley... Are you becoming superstitious?<br />
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Not superstitious, Dan... There have been so many other weird things since he<br />
was born.<br />
A state of mind, Charley... Stop worrying.<br />
Why are you so sceptical? You weren‘t last night.<br />
You are reading too much into everything, Charley... It‘s one thing to<br />
speculate on our relationship with Brian. But it‘s another to see omens in what are<br />
pure accidents.<br />
I‘m not superstitious, Dan... Don‘t tell me I am... I‘m not looking for omens in<br />
everything... It‘s just... Oh Dan... I feel so awful...<br />
It‘s after last night... We had a heavy meal so late...<br />
No! When I saw the bird... the magp<strong>ie</strong>, I just thought that something had<br />
happened... It was just like that!... It came into my mind...<br />
Perhaps you are being credulous... You‘ve only just got up.<br />
Please, Dan... And Brian... The way he responded to the bird.<br />
I‘ll make some tea... Charley... Now... Stop it, will you... You are<br />
overwrought... Take it easy... Let everything run on... I mean let it go over your<br />
head... Will you hold Brian?.. Actually, we ought to put him out again.<br />
No... I want to change his clothes first... He had these on yesterday... Now...<br />
I‘m calm.<br />
Good... Let‘s talk about something else... We should take Brian out today. The<br />
weather is pretty decent for once... What about Sandymount? I‘ll carry Brian in that<br />
sling affair... If the tide is out we can walk on the sand.<br />
I want to do some shopping first... No... Not Stillorgan... I‘ll drive over to<br />
Rathmines. I‘ll leave the car in the shopping centre.<br />
Do you want me to come with you?<br />
No... You mind Brian... I need a few things... I must get something for<br />
Monday.<br />
It‘s a good idea... Tea... I‘ll put Brian on the floor... Here... Down you go, old<br />
son... Charley?<br />
Yes?<br />
We should have him baptised soon.<br />
Oh yes... I had forgotten...<br />
And we‘ll have a christening party. We must resume contact with everyone.<br />
Mmm... Yes... Who will we invite? Everyone?<br />
No... I think we should keep it small... Maire MacMahon, anyway... We‘ve<br />
already invited her... Oh and Tony Hackett... I think I‘ve invited him too.<br />
But Tony doesn‘t like Maire!<br />
He can talk to someone else...<br />
Who? He doesn‘t know many of our fr<strong>ie</strong>nds.<br />
Oh he can be sociable when he pleases... Then your mother and Tom Spencer.<br />
Anyone from College?<br />
I don‘t know... I‘m out of history now and only half in the politics<br />
department... I‘ll think about it... Can you think of anyone? From history, I mean.<br />
The Cliffords?<br />
That would mean inviting some of your old College group... Jackson and the<br />
like.<br />
What‘s wrong with that?<br />
They won‘t mix... Anyway, the Cliffords have new chums now... Perhaps they<br />
won‘t be interested in Keith and the others.<br />
Oh, just for one evening they will, Dan... I‘ll think about it... What about the<br />
107
politics department? You don‘t socialise with them at all.<br />
That‘s because they don‘t socialise period... I know we must invite Professor<br />
Drake to dinner one of these days. But I want to leave that until later in the year... The<br />
others? Well, they are either English academic left<strong>ie</strong>s or introverted intellectuals... I<br />
can‘t see them mixing either... It‘s supposed to be an informal party for Brian... The<br />
people we invite must be at least interested in him.<br />
But there should be more than six.<br />
There will be... We‘ll think about it... And I‘ll get in touch with the<br />
Reverend... what‘s his name anyway? The new one.<br />
Clarke... Of course you haven‘t met him... He‘s young.<br />
I‘ll meet him soon no doubt.<br />
Mother met him once... We were walking up from Ranelagh... Hah... She said<br />
his conversation was like sermonising in a low voice.<br />
And his sermons are conversations out loud!<br />
Hah-hah!<br />
Hhh!... I can imagine.<br />
Ha... But he is very pleasant, Dan. So don‘t mock him.<br />
I wouldn‘t.<br />
But you are so ambiguous towards clergymen.<br />
They are ambiguous people.<br />
The men of God?<br />
Yes...<br />
You don‘t take them very seriously, Dan, do you?<br />
Who does?<br />
We should, you know... I‘ll change Brian... Dan.<br />
Yes?<br />
He is much calmer today, isn‘t he?<br />
Brian? Yes. I told you a night‘s sleep would settle him down... Isn‘t that right,<br />
old son?<br />
How grave he is... I expect he has forgiven you for feeding him with the<br />
bottle.<br />
He‘ll get over it... Won‘t you? Looks as though he has.<br />
Well, I‘m glad he has settled down... He can be intense.<br />
Intense?<br />
Yes... Who does he get that from?<br />
You, I suppose.<br />
Mmm... You are too cool... You are, you know, Dan. You are extraordinarily<br />
steady.<br />
Like my mother, no doubt... Just keep going.<br />
Yes. That‘s it... You do... There... Will you put him out?<br />
Sure... I‘m going out anyway.<br />
I won‘t be long... Do you want anything?<br />
No... Take your time.<br />
Just a few things, Dan... See you... Bye, Brian... Keep the magp<strong>ie</strong>s away,<br />
won‘t you?<br />
They won‘t come down while I‘m out there... Take care, sweetheart... Come<br />
on, old son... You are calm... Almost satisf<strong>ie</strong>d... What is it? Mmm? Who loves you?<br />
We all do... Come on, chum... Say hello to the magp<strong>ie</strong>s... Look... There... In the<br />
trees... Of course you can‘t see them... But listen...<br />
Krk! Krkrk!<br />
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Krkrk!<br />
There!... You do like that! Welcome to the world, Brian...<br />
I‘m back!... Oh there you are... What are you doing, Dan?<br />
I‘m showing Brian the flowers and trees.<br />
But he won‘t understand!... You can be just as silly as mother.<br />
He touches them... He was afraid at first... He put his finger into a rose just as<br />
the wind shook it. He got an awful start... But he‘s got used to that now. He shakes<br />
them himself... I think he knows they are alive... I daresay he will pull them to p<strong>ie</strong>ces<br />
when he gets older. They always do... Watch... There you are, Brian old son... A<br />
chrysanthemum... Look, Charley. See how he strokes it.<br />
But he hardly knows what he is doing, Dan. He really is too young.<br />
Perhaps... But he does respond. I know he won‘t remember it when he‘s<br />
older... But the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce will be there. Bur<strong>ie</strong>d in his memory.<br />
Krk!<br />
Krk! Krk!<br />
Oh... Are they still here, Dan?<br />
Yes... Up in the sycamore... See? They‘ve been sitting there all morning,<br />
talking to one another.<br />
I wish they would go away, Dan... I don‘t like them.<br />
They are harmless... They‘re probably resting up there.<br />
They give me the shivers... Come on... Are we still going down to<br />
Sandymount?<br />
Yes. The sun is very pleasant. After all that rain. But wear a jacket, Charley.<br />
There‘s a wind.<br />
I know.<br />
Do you want some lunch first?<br />
No... But I had better feed Brian... You eat while I‘m doing it.<br />
You don‘t have to go upstairs.<br />
No... You‘re right... I can do it here.<br />
Are you sure you won‘t eat something... You had very little for breakfast.<br />
No... I don‘t feel hungry... Perhaps it‘s because I slept on that heavy meal last<br />
night... Rathmines was very unpleasant... Everyone seemed so testy.<br />
The holiday... I expect a lot decided not to go away... I see what you mean<br />
about Brian.<br />
Mmm? Yes. I can‘t control him... He gets very aggressive.<br />
It‘s almost convulsive, Charley... I hadn‘t thought it was quite so bad... I<br />
would have insisted on using the bottle.<br />
No. He‘s worse than usual... because you gave him the bottle this morning.<br />
Perhaps a clean break?<br />
No! No... That might be traumatic for him... At least I know what is<br />
happening. He wouldn‘t.<br />
Poor Charley... You are bring eaten alive.<br />
Hhh!... Still...<br />
You enjoy it nonetheless?<br />
It‘s not sexual, Dan... I‘ve told you that.<br />
I know... I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you... But it is pleasurable for you... As it is for Brian.<br />
109
Satisfying is a better word.<br />
No wonder he was annoyed this morning... A plastic teat is no substitute.<br />
I don‘t think it‘s that alone... This way, it is all one... Mmm? Can you see that?<br />
He is surrounded.<br />
Secure?<br />
No... Continuous.<br />
Yes... The bottle is not?<br />
No. Though he gets the same kind of satisfaction... I mean satiation... It‘s not<br />
complete... Dan, it will make him selfish.<br />
Selfish?<br />
Yes... He‘ll have to provide some of the satisfaction himself... Do you see?<br />
Vaguely.<br />
How will I put it? Yes... At the moment everything is being provided for him.<br />
But his aggression?<br />
All he has to do is take it.<br />
But isn‘t that selfishness?<br />
No... It is complete, Dan... There is no boundary between himself and... well<br />
me and the milk and the warmth... He is like a pipe... He takes all the milk that can<br />
pass through it.<br />
You mean it is... his capacity?<br />
Yes... But with the bottle there is a boundary... because the feeding is not<br />
complete... The selfishness arises because he cannot help but try to complete his<br />
satisfaction... like... for instance, you buy... say a cake or something. But for one<br />
reason or another it hasn‘t the flavour or sweetness it should have... You would add<br />
something to the cake to make it completely what you think it should be.<br />
Yes. I understand you... So what does Brian add?<br />
Well, it‘s not as simple as that example... In a sense, Brian cannot add<br />
something in order to complete his satisfaction. He cannot add enough, yes, enough<br />
to...<br />
Yes. Go on.<br />
He must do it in his imagination.<br />
Phantasy?<br />
Yes.<br />
That‘s pretty strong, Charley.<br />
I thought about it while I was shopping... And... It seemed to make sense...<br />
Sublimation of sorts.<br />
Does it work? I mean, does the sublimation complete the satisfaction?<br />
Perhaps for an infant.<br />
Got you... The shoppers?<br />
No. Not just them...<br />
Everybody?<br />
Yes.<br />
And it doesn‘t work for adults.<br />
Not if they try to make it real... you know... Connect it with things.<br />
Ah... Now I see it... And Brian is now receiving complete satisfaction?<br />
Yes.<br />
Lucky for him... Perhaps then if I was to take his place...<br />
No...<br />
No?<br />
You know...<br />
110
Yes... I thought so... I see now why you are so reluctant to change him over...<br />
He will never have such a real exper<strong>ie</strong>nce again.<br />
Perhaps it is not real.<br />
Hhh? But you...<br />
Perhaps it is a total phantasy for him, Dan.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
I don‘t know whether I provide him with a real satisfaction or he just imagines<br />
I do.<br />
Charley!... Lovely!... You know, you should have done research... You really<br />
should have... Oh that is nice.<br />
Thank you... Perhaps some day...<br />
Do.<br />
But you see, don‘t you? We can‘t ask Brian about it... We can‘t really know<br />
what he exper<strong>ie</strong>nces... I mean in that way... For himself.<br />
Nice. Nice... But you did generalise, Charley... What about that?<br />
Apply the theory... Who is ever completely satisf<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
Perhaps you when you are feeding Brian.<br />
No. Not really... I can see my boundary with Brian... But I don‘t feel any<br />
resistance from him... That‘s the unusual thing, Dan... We usually exper<strong>ie</strong>nce the<br />
resistance of others... and things... their separateness... But when Brian is feeding,<br />
there is no boundary in him.<br />
And at other times?<br />
Increasingly... Actually, I think always... I have to lift him and that...<br />
Otherwise, he is completely helpless.<br />
Except when he soils.<br />
Mmm? Yes... Yes... But that is usually for himself... He doesn‘t need me or<br />
anyone else.<br />
That‘s very interesting, Charley... It really is... No wonder you are reluctant...<br />
You will lose that exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
Yes... But it won‘t be so bad for me.<br />
Still... You will miss it... Until the next time.<br />
Yes... But it will never be the same again... Come on, Brian... He‘s falling<br />
asleep.<br />
Should we wait until he has slept?<br />
No... Put him in the back of the car... We can put him down when we get back.<br />
I‘ll take him then... He‘s nothing but a bag of milk now.<br />
Hhh... From me to him.<br />
Will you be long?<br />
No. You go out to the car... I‘ll follow... Oh, shall I bring some rainwear, Dan?<br />
Do you think so? Okay... No harm in that. There might be a shower. You‘re<br />
completely smashed, old son. Hhh... Go on... Go to sleep if you must...<br />
I‘ve brought the harness...<br />
Yes... Actually, Charley, he‘ll be able to sleep in that, won‘t he ?<br />
He might find it strange. We‘ve never used it before.<br />
We‘ll see... Have you got everything?<br />
Yes... I brought some fruit... Apples.<br />
A regular outing, what?<br />
To Sandymount?<br />
Oh don‘t put Sandymount down, Charley... Perhaps it‘s not as picturesque as<br />
Killiney... I went through a phase when I loved walking on the strand there more than<br />
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anything else in the world... Do you know that?<br />
No. You‘ve never told me about that.<br />
I was about ten or eleven... Perhaps it was the early stage of puberty or<br />
something... I did it summer and winter. I would walk right out to the water. That‘s<br />
over a mile when the tide is out... I remember the sky most of all... Absolutely huge. It<br />
would swell up from the horizon and seem to spread out all about me... You don‘t<br />
know how beautiful and interesting the sky can be, Charley... There were Renaissance<br />
sk<strong>ie</strong>s... you know... great billows of cumulus coming up from the horizon... Bathed in<br />
coppery or golden light... The sort of sky when God touched Adam... finger to<br />
finger... Then, especially in the summer, there would be tamer Constable sk<strong>ie</strong>s... The<br />
cumulus would be less immense, and bathed in a soft white light... Wistful in a way,<br />
but rather featureless... Have you ever seen that?<br />
Go on...<br />
Well, sometimes in the winter, when it was clear in the evening, you would<br />
get what I used to call a Dutch sky. The colour of the sky would be a burnished red<br />
bronze on the horizon to the west. There would be a black in it, like smoke... Do you<br />
know, that could really wrench me. I used to see it as cold fire... I would really savour<br />
that paradox... It created a sense of immense distance... so poignant, Charley. It used<br />
to make me feel so alone and yet so warm... a kind of melancholy content... Anyway,<br />
further up, the sky would become green... Very serene... That really was remote and<br />
cool... practically unreachable... Yes. I did enjoy the paradoxes, Charley.<br />
Already a philosopher?<br />
No. It was all feeling, Charley. It was a kind of mystical exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... Then the<br />
sky... higher up again... would become a really cold blue... That was slightly<br />
repelling... But I resisted being repelled... It would create a remoteness in me... instead<br />
of in the sky... Do you see? If it became too strong I would switch my attention back<br />
down the sky... to the sunset... and to the dark silhouette of‘ the city... Uh. There‘s a<br />
train coming... They take so long... But, Charley... The city used to give me such<br />
comfort then... It looked so innocent... The smoke rising... The odd sound... you<br />
know... cars and buses... but especially the train horns... They always seem to come<br />
from over by the North Wall. I think the marshalling yards are there...<br />
I don‘t know, I‘m afraid.<br />
Well, Am<strong>ie</strong>ns Street Station is... Perhaps it was from there... They would<br />
p<strong>ie</strong>rce the night... So mournful and yet so human... Mmm?<br />
Yes, I know what you mean... Airplanes flying over at night used to give me<br />
that feeling... Of how the world extended, I mean.<br />
Yes! Oh yes, that... Did it make you feel limited?. As though for once you<br />
could recognise that the world was larger and older than you?<br />
Yes. And that I could be in one place only at a time... I used to tell myself that<br />
because I was in Dublin I couldn‘t be in Paris or Hong Kong at the same time... It<br />
used to make me sad to realise that other lives in other places went on completely<br />
outside my exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
That can be sad... Yes... Did you think of death then?.. That the world would<br />
go on and on without regard for you?<br />
Yes. I used to think of all the stars and how far away they were... After daddy<br />
told me how long light takes to reach us from the stars, I would feel myself shrivel up<br />
thinking that the lights I could see had started out so long before I was born... And the<br />
light that was leaving those stars at that instant would not reach the earth until long<br />
after I was dead.<br />
Yes... You don‘t know Charl<strong>ie</strong> Simms, do you? He joined the British Army<br />
112
after school... He‘s a captain or something now... No? Anyway, once when we were<br />
about fifteen... He lived up behind Ranelagh... I told him about the stars and planets.<br />
The speed of light and how long... as you have said... it takes to cross space to earth...<br />
This was about one in the morning... We had been playing records... Well he told me<br />
the next day that he was so terrif<strong>ie</strong>d by what I told him that he couldn‘t sleep...<br />
I bet... It is frightening.<br />
Yes... But afterwards he went round telling people that I was a bit mad.<br />
Mad?<br />
He was serious, Charley... He told me I was mad about seven years ago... He<br />
was home on leave... He said I would drive myself insane with all the studying I do.<br />
You‘re joking.<br />
Actually, I was vulnerable to that then... He did manage to scare me... Where<br />
will I park?<br />
One of the side roads? Rather than go down to the promenade... The tide is<br />
out.<br />
Good... You could say he was projecting his own fear on to me... He must<br />
have thought he was going mad that night... after I had told him about the stars.<br />
Yes... Here?<br />
Okay... He was a nice guy... You know, easy... But he had a weak mind, I<br />
suppose... There.<br />
I‘ll carry Brian for a while, if you like.<br />
Do you want to? It‘ll be eas<strong>ie</strong>r for me... He won‘t be such a strain.<br />
If you get tired tell me... I‘ll carry the rain things.<br />
Yes... Will I put this on first, do you think?<br />
I think so... I‘ll get Brian.<br />
No... I‘ll sling it on one shoulder... Yes... That‘s it... Are his legs free?<br />
Yes... Turn his head.<br />
Ah so... Now... He hasn‘t woken up.<br />
He may have been awake part of last night... I remember... he was wide awake<br />
when I got up to feed him... But very calm.<br />
He looks so contented... The simple satisfactions of infanthood, mmm?<br />
Perhaps I should cover his head.<br />
No... Let the wind at his hair... Let‘s go... There are steps over here.<br />
Oh, the wind.<br />
It will be stronger out on the sand... Will you be warm enough?<br />
I think so... The sun is shining.<br />
You see what I mean about the sky? Isn‘t it huge?<br />
Yes... Even the mountains seem low.<br />
Do you know them? Three Rock... There. Where the radio masts are... Then<br />
Prince William‘s Seat... The Sugar Loaf of course... The Little Sugar Loaf and then<br />
Bray Head...<br />
That one... Yes... What is that?<br />
I think it is called Djouce Mountain... I don‘t know them that well... I used to<br />
cycle along the valleys... Glendoo, Glencullen, Glencree... The Featherbed... If that is<br />
Djouce, then the Waterfall is just below it.<br />
I know the Waterfall... We went once when I was about ten or eleven... It was<br />
very crowded.<br />
I can imagine... But the higher mountains are behind those... You can see<br />
some of the peaks... Have you ever been in there?<br />
Just Sunday drives... They were all much alike to me... I like the lakes.<br />
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map...<br />
Lough Dan? Lough Tay?<br />
Yes. And Glendalough, of course... It was very crowded too.<br />
We should explore them, you know... We could picnic... We should get a<br />
Yes... We could take Brian then.<br />
Perhaps he would like them too.<br />
Oh Dan, he wouldn‘t know.<br />
But the atmosphere... The mood... He is sensitive to mood... It‘s wet here. The<br />
tide is not long out... Can you walk through it?<br />
Yes... I‘m wearing my walking shoes.<br />
There is a stream of water somewhere here... Yes. At those rocks... We‘ll have<br />
to cross it... Yes... See the little islands of sand. We can use them as stepping <strong>stone</strong>s...<br />
Brian... Be careful, Dan.<br />
I‘ll hold him... Here goes... Hhnn!<br />
Yeoo!<br />
No problem to you?<br />
I was quite athletic at school, you know.<br />
Running and that?<br />
And hockey.<br />
Ugh... As bad as rugby.<br />
Didn‘t you play?<br />
No. I ducked it... I played once... One chap got stood on... an accident no<br />
doubt... But his face was opened from his eye to his chin...<br />
Ugh.<br />
It seemed pretty silly... Especially when it wasn‘t really necessary.<br />
Rugger buggers.<br />
Yes. Life‘s one long scrum.<br />
I always thought it was a kind of homosexuality.<br />
No. Not really... The thing in the showers afterwards is really a kind of ritual...<br />
They look more like little boys... I mean, they are quite determined not to notice one<br />
another‘s nakedness... I suppose it is a kind of communal thing.<br />
Esprit de corps?<br />
Yes... I know it seems chummy only... But I think it is genuine... It only<br />
becomes macho when they begin to compete for the girls... that and drinking...<br />
But it is strange, Dan... Girls are not encouraged to indulge in communal<br />
nakedness in that way... Perhaps that is because girls are supposed to be modest...<br />
Even so, there does seem to be a deliberate policy in schools to bond boys through<br />
communal nakedness... That is why I think there is an element of homosexuality...<br />
Like Sparta?<br />
Yes... I‘ve always thought that the warrior mentality was essentially<br />
homosexual.<br />
Achilles...<br />
Yes... A supreme narcissism... Perhaps it is necessary... I mean, they always<br />
faced the threat of death... It would make them very introverted. Yet the warrior<br />
thing... putting themselves at risk... is a kind of extreme al<strong>ie</strong>nation.<br />
And that is the macho mentality?<br />
Oh very much sentimentalised... I grant that warriors... like all fighters... need<br />
courage. But the macho doesn‘t... It‘s really a style... But women can suffer so much<br />
because of it.<br />
And men?<br />
114
men.<br />
Sure... It‘s not very satisfying.<br />
But nakedness... Women are supposed to be less conscious of one another than<br />
In a way... But a woman with big breasts will show them off... But women are<br />
communally undressed usually in the bedroom... At school we would tear around the<br />
dormitor<strong>ie</strong>s with little or no clothes on... Before a dance... But men would never do<br />
that.<br />
Then it would appear homosexual... The associations of the bedroom?<br />
Yes... Men are extraordinarily there... I mean sexually... In some ways they are<br />
more shy or modest than women.<br />
It probably is the associations of the bedroom... Any nakedness in a bedroom<br />
is arousing.<br />
Even another man?<br />
A warm responsive body is a warm responsive body... In the showers there<br />
isn‘t that association... In the same way a man could look at a film of hundreds of<br />
naked Jewish women running to the ovens of Auschwitz without the slightest flicker<br />
of arousal.<br />
I should say not... Unless he was very warped... Yes... Will we walk right out?<br />
Yes... Unless you are tired.<br />
No... Is Brian becoming heavy?<br />
No... And he is still asleep.<br />
He must have been very tired... Did you find the bottle a nuisance to prepare?<br />
No... I‘d say it would become a routine pretty quickly... I... Ah.<br />
What is it?<br />
A jet trail.<br />
Oh no, Dan... Not today.<br />
Look... It‘s heading north... Very high.<br />
I‘m sure it‘s a commercial flight.<br />
Where is it going, Charley? Not Belfast or Glasgow. It‘s too high... From<br />
Annestown, I used to see the transatlantic flights crossing towards Europe. They were<br />
still hundreds of miles out, yet they were descending already... Sometimes you would<br />
see the vapour trail break off as the aircraft dropped below a certain height... There‘s<br />
nowhere else to the north.<br />
Oslo?<br />
No. They would cross the North Sea... Anyway, where would it be coming<br />
from?<br />
Spain?<br />
Not for Norway or Sweden... And if that jet is flying from Spain to Belfast, it<br />
would be coming down... It‘s not... It‘s going full blast at a great height.<br />
Oh Dan... You should find out for sure.<br />
I will, sweetheart... When Tony gets back he will give me the circumstantial<br />
evidence I need... Look! It‘s turning... See?<br />
Yes.<br />
It‘s turning in over the island... I‘d say over Drogheda or County Louth...<br />
Why? I‘ve never seen that before, Charley... There‘s definitely no airport in that<br />
direction.<br />
Don‘t stand in the wind, Dan. It‘s chilly.<br />
Yes... I want to see what it is going to do next... Thank goodness it is clear... It<br />
must be flying parallel to the Border... If that is so, Charley, it will turn north again...<br />
Wait and see.<br />
115
How can you calculate?<br />
Oh, it‘s rough... But I guess it is flying in British airspace along the Border...<br />
Wait... Now:... It‘s turning north, Charley!... Do you see? I said it would... It‘s flying<br />
parallel to County Donegal now... Hey!... It‘s turning northeast!... Why is that?<br />
Perhaps you are mistaken, Dan.<br />
No! Got it:... The Border runs north and then northeast in Fermanagh... It‘s<br />
following that part of the Border... It‘ll turn north again when it reaches the Donegal<br />
border... Oh no! There‘s cloud... Ah! Look, Charley! It is turning north again... I told<br />
you. I told you... It‘s going behind the cloud... Ah...<br />
Let‘s walk on, Dan... It is chilly in the wind.<br />
Yes... It‘s gone now... I was right, Charley... wasn‘t I?<br />
Yes... But perhaps it‘s not as sinister as you think.<br />
Okay... Allow that it is not... Why does a high-flying four-engined jet follow<br />
the contours of Irish airspace?<br />
It could be patrolling.<br />
But why, Charley? What is it looking for? It is hardly checking on Irish air<br />
movements, is it? There are no Irish military aircraft which would require that kind of<br />
surveillance... No. The Irish airspace boundary is the closest it can come to<br />
something... That means that that something is on the other side of Irish airspace...<br />
You see? That the western boundary of Irish airspace...<br />
And that is why you have asked Tony to check off Connemara?<br />
Yes.<br />
It frightens me, Dan... I mean seeing that jet... You could predict exactly what<br />
it was going to do.<br />
My theory did.<br />
Yes... So that was a military aircraft, Dan.<br />
Yes.<br />
British?<br />
Or American.<br />
Armed?<br />
I don‘t know... Surveillance aircraft usually aren‘t. They carry instruments and<br />
fuel only.<br />
And it was watching a Russian military aircraft on the other side of the island?<br />
Yes... Perhaps jets... There could be more than one.<br />
Okay... Is the Russian jet armed?<br />
I doubt it... for the same reason.<br />
So they can‘t fight one another?<br />
No... That is not the point anyway, Charley.<br />
Why not? Aren‘t you afraid they will turn this country into a battlef<strong>ie</strong>ld?<br />
Not in that way... They are testing one another at the moment...<br />
Why, Dan ?<br />
To see who controls the airspace.<br />
You mean of Ireland?<br />
Yes.<br />
But they are outside it. You said they must stay outside.<br />
I know... That‘s how they‘d control it... Control movements in and out...<br />
How, Dan? I don‘t see it... It‘s very abstract, you know.<br />
Think of the speeds and ranges involved, Charley... A fighter could cross<br />
Ireland in ten or fifteen minutes... A missile would be even faster... Shoot down<br />
anything in a matter of minutes... Do you see that?<br />
116
Yes... You make the island seem very small.<br />
It is... And vulnerable... They could knock out the island just as easily... A<br />
missile from a submarine off the west coast.<br />
Let‘s turn back, Dan.<br />
Do you not want to walk to the edge of the sea?<br />
No. Not now... That jet trail is still there.<br />
Yes... Okay... Oh. Brian is awake... Hello, old son. He‘s groggy... Your milk<br />
really knocks him out.<br />
He doesn‘t know where he is... Brian!<br />
Uff... He kicked... He is awake now... Ah. He‘s holding on for dear life... He‘ll<br />
get used to it... Won‘t you, Brian?<br />
The wind, Dan... Is he too exposed? You should cover his head.<br />
The canvas of the sling will protect him... And the heat of my body... Just<br />
walk, Charley... Ignore the wind... Let‘s go on talking... That will take our minds off<br />
it.<br />
Oh, Dan. It‘s terrible... I never did take you seriously, did I?<br />
Can‘t blame you, Charley... You have to see it for yourself.<br />
But everyone is going to be like that.<br />
Yes. But they can come down here too.<br />
I can‘t imagine that...<br />
Well then, show it on television... They‘ll bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it then.<br />
What would it be like, Dan? If it happened now.<br />
What would what be like?<br />
The bomb.<br />
Oh. You wouldn‘t hear the missile. It would be high up. A mile or so... If it<br />
happened now, there would be a flash of light brighter than the sun. It would blind<br />
us... Then there would be heat and wind... The heat would turn us to dust... Then...<br />
Stop. Please... No... I‘m not afraid... in that way... It would be over quickly...<br />
But so much would be lost, Dan.<br />
How?<br />
I mean all this peace and brightness... the whole balance of it as it is now.<br />
Yes. I see what you mean... The mountains and sky? Just for us at this<br />
moment?<br />
It would be terrible to lose for some silly reason... Or because of some little<br />
calculation or decision thousands of miles away.<br />
Nothing is so desirable as at the moment of losing it?<br />
Oh... Dan, I can picture it so clearly... The flash of light I mean...<br />
Charley!... Oh sweetheart. Don‘t cry...<br />
Oh Dan, I‘m so sad... I can see what death is like... No wonder no one wants to<br />
d<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
Here... Don‘t let it carry you away... You have to learn to live with that<br />
knowledge... You‘re shivering, Charley. Are you cold?<br />
It‘s the wind... Let‘s walk fast... Here‘s your handkerch<strong>ie</strong>f... Thanks... Is Brian<br />
alright?<br />
Yes... I‘ll put my hand over his head... It‘s not far now... We‘re almost at the<br />
stream. It should be lower now.<br />
I‘m sorry, Dan. I did get carr<strong>ie</strong>d away.<br />
Nonsense, Charley... It shows that you have a soul... Let me kiss you.<br />
Mmm... Thanks... That‘s better... Look. Is it going to rain?<br />
Yes... But not for a while yet... It‘ll be a heavy shower.<br />
117
That‘s the cloud the jet went behind?<br />
Yes.<br />
It‘s very broody... How it darkens the city.<br />
Yes... The changes in atmosphere can be quite dramatic... I remember once I<br />
was out here and a thunderstorm built up... It was awesome. Piles upon piles of<br />
gunmetal grey clouds built up over the city and mountains. There were streaks of<br />
silver light along some of the clouds... you know, where the sun shone... and<br />
underneath it went from blue to violet and then to black. The air became so charged<br />
that you could feel it in your hair and skin... It built up and up. I started to hurry...<br />
much as we are doing... But before I got off the beach the rain came. It came down in<br />
torrents. There was one almighty shaft of lightning across the sky over the city. When<br />
the thunder came I was suddenly terrif<strong>ie</strong>d... It was totally irrational... But I felt I was<br />
totally surrounded by lightning and thunder... Goodness, I ran and ran, all the time<br />
expecting to be hit by a bolt... Ha. I didn‘t stop to shelter. I ran all the way home, up<br />
through Sandymount and Ballsbridge... Mother was furious because I was so wet...<br />
Ah, here‘s the stream... It has dropped... It‘ll be much eas<strong>ie</strong>r crossing this time...<br />
Be careful with Brian, Dan.<br />
I will... One. Two... Wheee!... Hang on, old son!... Uh... Uh... Now you.<br />
Yeoo!<br />
Whump!... One leap...<br />
Long legs.<br />
Useful.<br />
Yes... Not just pretty things.<br />
Indeed... Not far now.<br />
Here‘s the rain... Take the umbrella, Dan... It‘ll give Brian better shelter... I‘ll<br />
put your slick on...<br />
Okay... Brian is certainly being introduced to the world today.<br />
Lucky he won‘t remember... This would give him a very low opinion of it.<br />
Hah... Come under the brolly, Charley...<br />
Put your arm around me. Ah. Yes. Hello, Brian... He doesn‘t know me.<br />
It‘s the slick... Hey, you‘re still shivering... Are you cold?<br />
It‘s the wind... Perhaps what we were talking about as well.<br />
Oh, I‘m sorry I was so graphic.<br />
No... At least you have made me aware of what you feared... I can share it...<br />
But it has left me feeling very empty.<br />
You‘ll come to terms with it. Wait and see... I suppose it‘s like coming to<br />
terms with death.<br />
No... Let‘s change the subject, Dan... We‘re talking too much about death...<br />
The mountains... Will we go down there tomorrow or Monday?<br />
That‘s an idea.<br />
We could make up a picnic... Flasks of tea.<br />
Yes... We‘ll have the car if there are showers... We should have done this long<br />
ago.<br />
It‘s probably because of Brian.<br />
Brian?<br />
Yes... He‘s making us more aware of the world around us... Mother said that<br />
once.<br />
I remember.<br />
We are turning into a family.<br />
Mmm...<br />
118
Don‘t you agree?<br />
I haven‘t thought of it before... Perhaps... It could explain things.<br />
What things?<br />
Well, family-hood, as it were, as a mental exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... You know, a change of<br />
perspective... Not just an economic or social exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... I mean if a change of<br />
attitude to the world really took place spontaneously... I wonder if Frege ever<br />
marr<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
Why?<br />
If I were to suggest that the birth of culture took place in the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of<br />
family-hood, how could I prove it?.. I mean I would have to show that such a mental<br />
transformation does occur... Then I would have to show the contents of such a<br />
transformation... If they were cultural... I mean ideas about abstractions such as the<br />
world... and soc<strong>ie</strong>ty, of course... and a new awareness of values...<br />
Go on.<br />
The way to do that would be to test it against the lives and thought of<br />
philosophers... For instance, Frege... Yes... The radical change in Marx‘s thought... I<br />
mean did it occur around the time of the birth of his first child... And other thinkers of<br />
course... I must make a note of this, Charley... Wait... Charley...<br />
Yes?<br />
You ought to do it, sweetheart.<br />
Me?<br />
Yes... Do it as a doctorate...<br />
Dan!<br />
No... There would be no trouble getting a supervisor for it... In philosophy or<br />
politics... You did MacBr<strong>ie</strong>n‘s courses?<br />
One of them. The history one.<br />
Good... I‘m serious, Charley.<br />
I know you are, Dan.<br />
Would you do it?<br />
I don‘t know... I might not have the time.<br />
Oh you should have... I mean it is your own idea... You ought to follow it up...<br />
It mixes so many disciplines... If it were to be proven... it would have such an effect.<br />
Dan, stop building it up!<br />
Okay... Can you remember what you said?<br />
Something like, that becoming a family turns one‘s attention to the world.<br />
Yes. Make a note of it when we get back... And think about it. Make notes...<br />
No... You don‘t have to do the research immediately. But keep notes on it.<br />
Very well... But what about Brian?<br />
He‘ll be alright... Don‘t worry... Ah... The road... Luckily the rain isn‘t too<br />
heavy...<br />
The shower hasn‘t really started yet... Look at that cloud.<br />
Yes... Well, it‘s just across the road... Let‘s run... Now...<br />
Brian!... Hold... him...<br />
Uhh!... I did... Keys... Get in... I‘ll give Brian down to you...<br />
Okay... You get in now...<br />
There... Ah... Should we put him in the back... He doesn‘t know where he is...<br />
Look... It‘s alright, old son. Mommy and daddy are here... What more does he need?<br />
It‘s awkward, Dan...<br />
I‘ll do it... Pull the cot over... Yes... There!<br />
He‘s surprisingly passive...<br />
119
you?<br />
He probably knows what‘s afoot... Here‘s the rain.<br />
I‘m glad we missed it... The wind.<br />
Well, let‘s go... You will think seriously about the research, Charley, won‘t<br />
Why are you so insistent? Most men would be more concerned to keep their<br />
wives at home. To look after their children.<br />
Brian doesn‘t need that much looking after... Anyway, that‘s no reason for<br />
letting your mind vegetate.<br />
But if we have more children.<br />
There are women studying at College who have two and more children... They<br />
fit it in... One of them is planning to do research now... Aren‘t you interested in the<br />
thing itself? Studying or learning?<br />
I haven‘t thought about it... Dan, as an undergraduate I always felt so... off<br />
balance... You know, vulnerable.<br />
We all did. That‘s the learning process. It opens your mind.<br />
Is it always like that? Afterwards, I mean. Doing research.<br />
Yes. Except that in a way it is better and worse. It‘s better insofar as there is<br />
no one who can act as though he knows what you don‘t. It‘s worse because the<br />
openness is so great that everything becomes uncertain.<br />
That doesn‘t sound very pleasant, Dan.<br />
I suppose not... But when they give you the p<strong>ie</strong>ce of paper... Well, it‘s<br />
remarkable... Everything snaps into place... I don‘t mean you know everything...<br />
though some do act like that... But you find you have a stable perspective ... A kind of<br />
confidence.<br />
Yes. I felt that when I received the bee aye... But I never bel<strong>ie</strong>ved it... It was<br />
only a social thing.<br />
That‘s true. It is the public acknowledgement of your ach<strong>ie</strong>vement.<br />
But it has nothing to do with the private ach<strong>ie</strong>vement... with what you have<br />
actually learned... I felt so confused at that time. I didn‘t know what I knew.<br />
Perhaps... But it is like marriage. What makes a marriage is the public<br />
declaration... It is a social ritual. But it does have a real effect... Isn‘t that true?<br />
Of marriage? Yes. That did make a difference. Everything we did afterwards<br />
was different... I noticed that the first time we made love after our wedding.<br />
Well, conferring a degree is a public ritual in much the same way... Your<br />
knowledge changes in some way.<br />
But that is only because people bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you must know something because you<br />
have received the degree... It is the degree that counts, not the knowledge.<br />
Of course... Knowledge is social. So it must be socially authorised... But think<br />
of it in another way. That kind of social authorisation also establishes a<br />
responsibility... The temptation to play on the credulity of people is very great. But if<br />
you l<strong>ie</strong> to them, you also l<strong>ie</strong> to yourself. Not the first time, perhaps. But you have to<br />
maintain the l<strong>ie</strong>. In the end you become so preoccup<strong>ie</strong>d with maintaining the l<strong>ie</strong> that<br />
you don‘t have the time to remember what the truth is.<br />
But you‘ve scorned the... what you call the con-jobs of...<br />
That‘s on a large scale... The whole of social knowledge could be one big...<br />
not l<strong>ie</strong> as such... but certainly an illusion... But individuals try to maintain some kind<br />
of integrity within that illusion.<br />
But surely they would become aware of the illusion?<br />
Yes and no. There would have to be a boundary between the illusion and<br />
something like truth. But if there is no boundary, then illusion is total.<br />
120
How could you tell it was an illusion then?<br />
You can‘t. Not as knowledge... But you could tell in terms of your own<br />
individual exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... If you wanted to.<br />
I don‘t see that at all, Dan. If there is a total illusion, that illusion must have<br />
integrity... You have said that in a way, haven‘t you?<br />
Yes.<br />
Then it should hold even against individual scrutiny... For if all knowledge is<br />
social, then there is no private knowledge... Unless you mean that individual<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is a different kind of knowledge. Do you mean that?<br />
Yes. I think individual exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is different. But it can only be expressed in<br />
public terms... That is language... If you try to make language express private<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce as private truth as opposed to public truth, you could well be judged<br />
idiosyncratic... or worse.<br />
You mean mad?<br />
Yes. I do... The usual way around that is to express your exper<strong>ie</strong>nce in terms<br />
of theor<strong>ie</strong>s which are not dominant theor<strong>ie</strong>s... For instance, a lot of private religious<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is now expressed in terms of or<strong>ie</strong>ntal religious ideas or pre-christian<br />
mystery terms.<br />
What happens then?<br />
Your private exper<strong>ie</strong>nce becomes public truth in any case, though not the<br />
conventional public truth...<br />
Is there private exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, Dan? I mean, if it can‘t be expressed as such, how<br />
can you say there is such a thing?<br />
You know, Charley. You have your own exper<strong>ie</strong>nces. And you can choose<br />
whether to express them or not. If you choose not to, then they remain private... Here<br />
we are... Will you take Brian in? I‘ll take the other things and lock the car.<br />
Use the umbrella.<br />
Yes... Up you come, old son... No. I‘ll lock it after you... Uh ... Ah...<br />
I can‘t find my key.<br />
Okay. I have mine... There... In you go.<br />
Oh, it‘s so miserable.<br />
Yes... I think we should light a fire.<br />
In early August?<br />
That‘s our summer.<br />
Oh.<br />
What ?<br />
We didn‘t eat the apples... The door.<br />
I‘ll go...<br />
I‘ll take this off...<br />
Yes?<br />
Mister White?<br />
Yes.<br />
Your wife is the daughter of Missis Alice Jameson, isn‘t she?<br />
Yes. That‘s right.<br />
Is she in? We would like to speak to her.<br />
Who are you?<br />
We‘re Guards. Detective Branch. Here. Identification.<br />
Come in... I‘ll call my wife... Is it serious?<br />
Yes, Mister White... There‘s been a serious accident.<br />
And?<br />
121
Missis Jameson is dead... And her companion.<br />
Hhh... It might be better if you waited in here... Sit down if you like.<br />
No... It‘s all right.<br />
I‘ll get my wife. Excuse me... Charlotte.<br />
Yes, Dan? What about Brian?<br />
We‘d better put him in the carry-cot... It‘ll be only for a few minutes.<br />
Kiss me, Dan... Put your arms around me.<br />
You know?<br />
I think so... Oh... Dan.<br />
Let‘s get it over with.<br />
Yes...<br />
This is my wife... These are police officers, Charlotte.<br />
Missis White...<br />
Do you want to sit down?<br />
No, Dan... It‘s alright.<br />
It‘s about your mother, Missis White... Missis Alice Jameson?<br />
That‘s right.<br />
There has been a serious traffic accident... Both your mother and the driver of<br />
the car were killed... I‘m sorry.<br />
Yes.<br />
Charlotte.<br />
When did it happen?<br />
At about eleven o‘clock this morning... We called earl<strong>ie</strong>r, but you were out.<br />
That‘s right... Do you know how it happened?<br />
We haven‘t the full details yet... It seems the car your mother was in ran off<br />
the road...<br />
Where?<br />
Outside Manorhamilton, Mister White.<br />
Where‘s that?<br />
In County Leitrim... On the Enniskillen to Sligo road.<br />
How is...<br />
Which direction were they travelling in?<br />
Towards Sligo... They crossed the Border at Blacklion at ten thirty.<br />
They were in the North? Are you sure?<br />
Yes... The orr you cee logged their crossing... You are surprised, Mister<br />
White?<br />
Oh... Mister Spencer had a business meeting this morning...<br />
In Northern Ireland, Missis White?<br />
I‘m not sure... Mother... mother said it was a last-minute arrangement...<br />
They must have been on their way to Galway...<br />
Yes?..<br />
They were going to spend the holiday there, Sergeant.<br />
You don‘t know where they were in Northern Ireland then?<br />
No... Charlotte?<br />
No. I‘m afraid not... Mother didn‘t seem to know where she was going... As I<br />
said, it was a last-minute arrangement.<br />
What... No... Well. Missis White, I‘m sorry it‘s such bad news... You have my<br />
condolences...<br />
Thank you.<br />
Thank you, Sergeant... I‘ll see you out.<br />
122
I‘ll make some tea, Dan.<br />
Yes do... Sergeant, if we should need to contact you...<br />
I‘ll give you a number... My name is Sheehy... It‘s the Special Traffic<br />
Section... For incidents of this sort... There... Mister White, what do you know of<br />
Mister Spencer‘s business?<br />
Little or nothing... Some kind of management consultancy... He travelled a<br />
lot... Thanks.<br />
Yes... About the remains... They can be collected on Monday or Tuesday...<br />
Tuesday might be better, though... The holiday.<br />
Where is she now, Sergeant?<br />
In Sligo... The necessary examination will be done there... Did you want to<br />
make any special arrangements?<br />
No. I don‘t think so... Hhh...<br />
Missis White... Your wife...<br />
Yes... I had better go...<br />
We may call again, Mister White... In a few days...<br />
Okay.<br />
Again, my condolences.<br />
Goodbye, Sergeant... Goodbye.<br />
Goodbye, Mister White.<br />
Goodbye.<br />
Charlotte?<br />
The kettle... Luckily it was empty.<br />
I‘ll get it... We‘ll have tea... Are you hungry?<br />
No... Dan...<br />
Yes, sweetheart... Here...<br />
Oh... Oh, Dan, it‘s so stupid!<br />
It is... very stupid.<br />
Just like that... No... Make tea... I‘ll...<br />
You are cold... I‘ll light a fire.<br />
In a moment... Let‘s have some tea first... Brian is so calm... He‘s looking at<br />
us.<br />
He probably senses something.<br />
Poor Brian... Now he has no grandparents at all... Such a shame.<br />
He has us... Charlotte.<br />
Call me Lotty, Dan... I can‘t bear the other name anymore... Mother never<br />
liked it. She thought it was too forward.<br />
Lotty... Should we feed Brian?<br />
What time is it?<br />
Just after five.<br />
Six hours... Why did it take so long to tell us? I feel such a fool, Dan. Walking<br />
on that beach while...<br />
Bureaucracy... By the time it got through their various channels... You know.<br />
Why did he ask so many silly questions, Dan? What business is it of his where<br />
my mother had been or where she was going?<br />
Perhaps they need it for their reports.<br />
I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that... Do you?<br />
No.<br />
Bloody curiosity... Your mother and her companion... How bloody prim!<br />
Hey, Lotty... Don‘t transfer it on to them... They were just doing their job.<br />
123
Why did they want to know there they had spent Friday night?<br />
I don‘t know... Here. Have this tea, Lotty... Drink it while it‘s hot.<br />
And we were talking about education and all that other nonsense, Dan... How<br />
could we be so stupid?<br />
We didn‘t know, Lotty... We weren‘t to know.<br />
We did!... We bloody well did, Dan!<br />
Drink your tea, Lotty.<br />
But we did, Dan... As soon as I heard the doorbell everything went click inside<br />
me.<br />
Stop it, Lotty... Stop trying to make yourself responsible.<br />
Last night on the phone, Dan, mother kept saying that she hoped there would<br />
be no snag... I should have realised... I should have told her not to go with him. Let<br />
Tom come back to Dublin for her today... It was his business... Why should my<br />
mother get killed for it?<br />
Lotty! Stop it... Stop trying to blame someone.<br />
Someone must be to blame... I bet Tom was driving too fast... He wanted to<br />
impress everyone... even the peasants... with his white Rover.<br />
Lotty, stop it... I won‘t listen to such nonsense... They are both dead... Will<br />
you try to accept that fact... At least try to be pat<strong>ie</strong>nt, Lotty.<br />
But it is so stupid, Dan... I can‘t be pat<strong>ie</strong>nt with that... Look, the way those<br />
men came and went. Just like that.<br />
What else could they do? It is an unpleasant task. They did it as well as they<br />
could.<br />
Oh, it‘s all very well for you to be so reasonable. It‘s not your mother. You...<br />
Oh!<br />
It‘s alright, Lotty.<br />
Dan, I‘m so sorry... How you must have felt when they told you... I mean,<br />
your mother and your father... What did you do?<br />
I told you once... But that‘s in the past.<br />
Did you? But I am sorry... You are right, you know. I am trying to blame<br />
someone... Thanks for the tea. It will buck me up, I know it... I‘ll go up and change<br />
into something warmer... Will you keep Brian company? He‘ll feel lost too.<br />
Don‘t be long, Lotty... I‘ll light a fire.<br />
Do... It is so miserable.<br />
Hello, old son... Come to your daddy... How are you?..<br />
Are you sad? Poor lad...<br />
How do you feel?<br />
Better... Oh you lit the fire... Good.<br />
Come and sit down.<br />
Yes... Should I feed Brian, do you think? I don‘t want to affect him more than<br />
is necessary.<br />
I could fix a bottle... I don‘t think he‘d mind too much.<br />
Yes. That might be better... Dan, before you do that, would you do something<br />
for me? I mean without asking questions or making any comment.<br />
What is it? Of course I will.<br />
Do you remember how you opened the Bible last week? Would you do it<br />
again now?<br />
124
What do you want to ask about?<br />
No questions. Please.<br />
Okay... Sure I‘ll do it... Hold Brian, will you.<br />
Yes... Just open it and pick out a verse. The way you did it the last time.<br />
Yes... I‘ll get it... Now... Mmm.<br />
What is it?<br />
Ecclesiastes...<br />
Read it.<br />
Okay... Give a portion to seven, and also to eight, for thou knowest not what<br />
evil shall be upon earth... That‘s the one I put my finger on.<br />
Obscure... What does it mean?<br />
In what sense? I‘ll read the verses around it.<br />
Yes. Do.<br />
Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days. Give a<br />
portion to seven, or even to eight, for thou knowest not what evil shall be upon the<br />
earth. If the clouds be full of rain, they empty themselves upon the earth, and if the<br />
tree fall to the south, or towards the north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it<br />
will l<strong>ie</strong>. He that observeth the wind shall not sow, and he that regardeth the clouds<br />
shall not reap. As thou knowest not what is the way of the Spirit, nor how the bones<br />
do grow in the womb of she that is with child, even so thou knowest not the works of<br />
God who maketh all... They seem to make a kind of unit.<br />
Yes. Things follow their course... as ordained?<br />
Mmm... But men... human beings should be charitable, because they don‘t<br />
know when they will need the help of others.<br />
Yes... Thank you, Dan... Can I take the Bible?<br />
Yes. Of course... There it is...<br />
It gives me something to think about, you see... I‘ll go upstairs... I‘ll come<br />
down when I‘m ready... Will you look after Brian?<br />
Yes... But, Lotty, it‘s warmer down here.<br />
No... I‘ll be alright, Dan. I promise you that... Can Brian sleep here, do you<br />
think? If he wants to I mean.<br />
I think so.<br />
Thank you, darling... You are so considerate...<br />
SUNDAY<br />
You‘re awake?<br />
Yes.<br />
What time is it? I must feed Brian.<br />
Half two... You were asleep when I came up.<br />
Yes... I fell asleep immediately... I didn‘t expect to... You know.<br />
I‘m glad you did.<br />
Dan... Tell me... Is mother dead?<br />
125
Yes... Why?<br />
No. I know she is dead... But I find that despite that... fact, I keep wondering if<br />
she is enjoying her holiday... Then I look forward to hearing about it on Tuesday.<br />
I can imagine... It will take a while for the truth to sink in.<br />
Yes... Then when I remind myself that mother is dead, I go blank inside... I<br />
feel something absolutely terrible has happened. But I‘m not sure what it is.<br />
It takes time, Lotty.<br />
No. It‘s not that... I mean that something terrible has happened to me.<br />
Oh.<br />
Tell me, Dan... What was your first... immediate... response when you were<br />
told your parents were dead?<br />
You mean, just like that?<br />
Yes. Just like that.<br />
Rel<strong>ie</strong>f... I felt as though a great burden had been lifted from me.<br />
Ah... I thought so.<br />
You?<br />
When daddy d<strong>ie</strong>d... I think that was different... He was dying for a month... I<br />
think I had time to adjust... You know. I transferred all that feeling on to mother.<br />
You told me that once.<br />
I think it was that that led people at College to call me frigid.<br />
You knew that? You‘ve never told me that before.<br />
Oh yes... Anne Purley told me... Perhaps out of spite... And you knew it too?<br />
Yes... It piqued them.<br />
It was Dermot O‘Connoll who started it... I went out with him.<br />
I know.<br />
Did you?<br />
It seemed obvious... I had always thought you should have been part of that<br />
group... But you weren‘t extraverted in that way.<br />
Yes... Yes. There‘s something in that... I had been fr<strong>ie</strong>nds with Anne at<br />
school...<br />
And she wanted Dermot?<br />
Yes... It seems so obvious now, doesn‘t it?<br />
She‘s a social climber. He was an obvious target.<br />
She threw herself at him... You weren‘t at Keith Jackson‘s twenty-first?<br />
No... I was in London, doing research.<br />
She was quite drunk... He goaded her into taking all her clothes off... She<br />
danced like a maniac.<br />
I heard about that... Everyone undressed too?<br />
Not really... Just that crowd... It was quite primitive... They goaded one<br />
another. It was a madness... But I saw... so clearly, Dan... that they did it because they<br />
were terrif<strong>ie</strong>d of one another... You know, so many barr<strong>ie</strong>rs.<br />
Yes... But it was orgiastic.<br />
Did you ever do that?<br />
Not really.<br />
But when Mar<strong>ie</strong> Cusack... Peter Rogers‘ girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd... went to your drinking<br />
part<strong>ie</strong>s... There were rumours... She fanc<strong>ie</strong>d you.<br />
She played up to all of us... But she did create tension... We used to get it off<br />
playing Ludo.<br />
Ludo? I‘d heard about that... That was so childish.<br />
Perhaps... But it helped vent a lot of tension and anx<strong>ie</strong>ty.<br />
126
So there were no org<strong>ie</strong>s?<br />
No... It was harmless... Very noisy... But I suppose there were barr<strong>ie</strong>rs there<br />
too... Anyway, she was with Peter.<br />
Not for long.<br />
No.<br />
You went out with her then?<br />
Her idea of intimacy was to tell you about her neuroses... Snakes... of course.<br />
Yes. I know... She told me once... It was morbid... Her father.<br />
Yes... But it also served to deflect the attentions of men... She managed to<br />
make them guilty rather than aroused.<br />
Guilt?<br />
Yes.<br />
Do many women do that?<br />
I don‘t know... Anne Macartney suffered from vertigo at the most<br />
inconven<strong>ie</strong>nt moments.<br />
Anne... Yes. You liked her a lot, didn‘t you?<br />
Pity, Lotty... The other side of guilt.<br />
I just went rigid.<br />
And mental?<br />
Yes... I‘d talk non-stop... Men aren‘t what they seem to be.<br />
How?<br />
It‘s hard for a woman to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that a man... I mean a particular man at a<br />
particular time... is alive... I mean, that he is actually there.<br />
Your father?<br />
Yes... That‘s it. I‘m sorry it‘s so roundabout... He wasn‘t real enough to be<br />
missed deeply.<br />
Do you mean that, Lotty?<br />
That‘s the guilt, Dan... I mean, he made me feel guilty.<br />
For not missing him so much?<br />
Oh no... For not bel<strong>ie</strong>ving he was real... Men try so hard to make women<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that they are real.<br />
And they are not?<br />
For themselves, perhaps... But they are only symbols for women, Dan.<br />
Of what?<br />
Male power... What psychologists call phallic power.<br />
Go on.<br />
The penis is quite distinct, Dan... Oh... Perhaps I shouldn‘t be saying this to<br />
you..<br />
You. mean it shouldn‘t be revealed? As you said of Maire the other night?<br />
In a way... But you are... well... my husband.<br />
Indeed... But go on... It‘s interesting.<br />
Ah, Dan... That‘s you alright...<br />
I am interested.<br />
That‘s what I mean... I will tell you... I feel I should because... Men are all the<br />
same... Do you see that?<br />
They are interchangeable?<br />
Exactly... That‘s the frightening thing in a masculine soc<strong>ie</strong>ty... I could have<br />
accepted any of the men who showed an interest in me.<br />
And?<br />
You mean why did I accept you?<br />
127
Not quite... I think I know... No. What was so frightening about your freedom<br />
of choice?<br />
That there was no freedom, of course.<br />
No?<br />
I was being offered phallic power in one symbolic form or another.<br />
Ah... Yes... You discerned that?<br />
All women do, in one way or another.<br />
So you chose the man who did not offer phallic power?<br />
Yes... Yes... Is it so obvious?<br />
Now it is... And another way of saying it is that I wasn‘t just a symbol?<br />
Yes...<br />
What does that mean?<br />
That you didn‘t try to be real.<br />
That I wasn‘t real, you mean.<br />
Yes... Does that upset you?<br />
No... But I want to think about it.<br />
I‘ll feed Brian... It‘s after three.<br />
Yes... Do.<br />
He‘s awake, Dan... His hands... As though he were reaching for something.<br />
Lotty...<br />
Yes?<br />
There‘s a distinction between the father and the son, isn‘t there?<br />
Yes.<br />
I‘m a son.<br />
Yes.<br />
Maire said as much the other night.<br />
She can‘t help but see you as a son... You drool over her breasts.<br />
Is it that obvious?<br />
Yes... Once I heard about it...<br />
And there are mothers and daughters?<br />
Yes.<br />
And you are a daughter?<br />
I was.<br />
Yes... And now you are a mother? That‘s what you felt when you were told<br />
your mother was dead?<br />
Yes... But you marr<strong>ie</strong>d a daughter.<br />
That‘s true... So I become a father now?<br />
Perhaps not.<br />
No?<br />
I don‘t think so... You can‘t. I don‘t think you can.<br />
Then perhaps you can‘t either... Lotty? Can you hear me?<br />
Yes. I heard you.<br />
Lotty? Lotty! You‘re crying... Lotty! Answer me... You are!... Oh sweetheart.<br />
It‘s alright, Dan... It would come sooner or later... Brian?<br />
It‘s not distracting him.<br />
Milk and tears, Lotty... It‘s archetypal.<br />
It‘s not for Brian.<br />
Who is for then? Not me... For yourself?<br />
No... It‘s not for anyone.<br />
I‘ll dry your eyes... At least... It moves me profoundly.<br />
128
Your curiosity is endless, Dan.<br />
Perhaps that‘s man‘s reality for himself.<br />
It‘s yours, anyway... And... Oh, oh, oh...<br />
Let it go, sweetheart... Let it all run out.<br />
Oh no... Take Brian, Dan... Oh. Oh. Oh...<br />
Yes... Hey... Hold on, old son... There now, there now... It‘s nothing...<br />
Mommy is upset... He‘s crying now... There now, Brian... Oh...<br />
Give him to me... Oh. Oh... .<br />
My God... The P<strong>ie</strong>ta... I‘ll make some tea...<br />
It is clear at once that the problem of difference raises the problem of<br />
relation. Now, on one hand, difference could l<strong>ie</strong> in a plurality of something of<br />
one kind or nature. Here the kind of relation could be posited as unique, such<br />
that the relation A only will hold between any X‘s. On the other hand,<br />
difference could l<strong>ie</strong> in there being a number of completely different things.<br />
Here difference is not of particular importance until the question of the<br />
relation(s) between these different things arises. Thus the difference of<br />
different things only comes to notice when any of them are related. That<br />
means that in this case the question of relation is primary.<br />
But the question of relation seems to turn on the specificity of the<br />
relation. That is, there could be one relation or many relations between<br />
different things. That is, the relation B could hold between different things<br />
Yl,2,3... N, for instance that they were all yellow: lemons, daffodils, and<br />
yellow dresses. Again, relations Cl,2,3, etc could be instanced as holding<br />
between two different things, or three, or N number of things.<br />
This being the case, it can be seen that the problem of relation is<br />
simply the problem of difference in another guise. But, at the same time, the<br />
problem of difference is not the only aspect of the problem of relations, that is,<br />
relations are not merely difference as such, for the fact of relation is also<br />
indicative of correspondence, that relations can obtain between two different<br />
things. As such any given relation impl<strong>ie</strong>s sameness of some kind in the things<br />
related.<br />
But isn‘t this also true in the matter of difference? To say that things<br />
are different is also to say that there are comparable entit<strong>ie</strong>s, that is, things, of<br />
which it can be said that they are different.<br />
Therefore:<br />
(i) Difference can be apprehended only in relations.<br />
(ii) Relation impl<strong>ie</strong>s a stratum of sameness.<br />
(iii) Difference cannot be noted unless there is an element of sameness.<br />
(iv) Absolute difference would have to be singular.<br />
(v) ‗Singular‘ difference is sameness, that is, unity.<br />
(vi) No difference without sameness.<br />
(vii) Can there be sameness without difference?<br />
The answer to (vii) is yes. Such an entity would be one, whole, without<br />
relation.<br />
Such an entity is the ‗Reason‘ posited by Frege.<br />
But F says that Reason can contain ‗thoughts‘.<br />
129
This means that Reason is not an entity of sameness, but is instead an<br />
entity holding relations and therefore mixing difference and sameness.<br />
Once again, what kind of plurality of thought is contained in Reason?<br />
It could be a plurality of one kind or nature. This is the case from one<br />
perspective, for what Reason contains is a plurality of ‗thought‘. But what<br />
kind of relation could hold between this plurality? The common features of<br />
‗thoughts‘, definitionally, truth, objectivity and presence, are not relational<br />
terms either between ‗thoughts‘ or between ‗thoughts‘ and Reason. The only<br />
relation which can be deduced from F‘s account is that the ‗thoughts‘ are<br />
contained by Reason. However, ‗Reason‘ is given no quality or attribute by<br />
means of which it could hold relations with ‗thoughts‘, or permit or facilitate<br />
relations between ‗thoughts‘. In F‘s account, Reason has no relations<br />
whatsoever.<br />
Therefore, if ‗thoughts‘ do not hold a unique relation between one<br />
another within Reason, it follows that, to the extent that ‗thoughts‘ are<br />
different, then the relation(s) they hold must be sited between the ‗thoughts‘<br />
alone, That is, the relations between ‗thoughts‘ must be unknown to Reason<br />
and must l<strong>ie</strong> outside Reason.<br />
But if this is the case, then such relation(s) are not true or objective.<br />
They have no presence nor are they thoughts in themselves. But could they be<br />
thoughts of the form ‗x is the relation between thought A and thought B‘? No.<br />
If they were thoughts, they could not be relations, for (a) all thoughts are in<br />
Reason and (b) there are no relations within Reason. In that case, could they<br />
be thoughts referring to relations? No. For thoughts make no reference, they<br />
are merely present in themselves to Reason, that is, they are in themselves true<br />
and objective and thus complete.<br />
It seems then that while it can be inferred that a plurality of thought<br />
indicates that there are different thoughts, for there is no other way of<br />
accounting for the plurality, this difference is unknown to Reason. Thus<br />
Reason is a unity containing a plurality of thought. Reason contains this<br />
plurality in the mode of sameness. But this sameness is not the common nature<br />
of thought, that is, presence, truth and objectivity, for thoughts must also differ<br />
from one another. The sameness of Reason and its plurality of thought can<br />
only be said to l<strong>ie</strong> in the uniqueness of such an entity, as deduced in the<br />
previous section, that is, that the possibility of thought(s) necessarily impl<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
the possibility of Reason, and vice versa.<br />
To the extent that elements of the ‗structure‘ of this entity seem<br />
logically impossible, most notably the co-presence of a plurality of thought in<br />
Reason, it must be assumed that Frege‘s account of Reason is not a logical<br />
one, that is, it is not based on deductions from certain premises concerning a<br />
substantive.<br />
Even so, the analysis in this part (I) shows that within Reason thought<br />
is immediate, the co-presence of a plurality of thought notwithstanding. That<br />
very little can be said of this immediacy, other than that it l<strong>ie</strong>s in the nature of<br />
thought, as being true and objective, does not take from this conclusion. For<br />
the nature of thought, as defined by Frege, is suffic<strong>ie</strong>nt to account for the<br />
immediacy of thought, though not, perhaps, for a satisfying understanding of<br />
thought or of its immediate presence.<br />
(II) However, it is also possible, as indicated earl<strong>ie</strong>r, to approach the subject<br />
130
from another perspective, that of the characteristics of thought, as distinct<br />
from Reason itself, which was the subject of part (I).<br />
Two statements by Frege can define the boundar<strong>ie</strong>s of an analysis of<br />
thought.<br />
(i) ‗Neither logic or mathematics has the task of investigating souls and the<br />
content of consciousness whose bearer is an individual human being. Rather,<br />
one might set down as their task the investigation of the Mind, not of minds.‘<br />
(ii) ‗Even grasping a thought is not creating a thought, nor is it the establishing<br />
of an order among its parts.‘<br />
In the first place it might be argued that the analysis to be undertaken<br />
here in part (II) should have been undertaken first, because it seems that a<br />
logical investigation of Reason is possible. Thus the long and somewhat<br />
inconclusive (or tautological) argument of part (I) might have been avoided.<br />
But there are two reasons why this was not possible. (a) Frege gives his<br />
account of Reason before he sets out to investigate ‗Mind‘ in a logical manner.<br />
(b) It will be noticed that the distinction that F draws between what is and<br />
what is not the subject matter of his logical investigation is precisely that<br />
which he had drawn in order to indicate the ‗origin‘ of thought itself. Thus, the<br />
very basis of his logical investigation is predicated on his account of Reason.<br />
These points are incidental to the reason for presenting statement (i),<br />
which is to show that F‘s logical investigation is not a ‗psychological‘ one,<br />
that it is not based on individual minds. On one hand, F is distinguishing his<br />
investigation from those undertaken by psychologists, but also by<br />
phenomenologists, for whom the data of mental exper<strong>ie</strong>nce form the subject<br />
matter of their investigations. On the other hand, F also indicates a crucial<br />
feature of his account of Reason, which had not arisen before, that it is not a<br />
phenomenon instanced in individuals. Here F emphasises something inferable<br />
from his account of Reason, though never made explicit, that Reason is not<br />
actual, that is, it does not exist wholly or partially in individuals, but that it is<br />
objective, that is, pace the analysis in part (I), an entity which is categorically<br />
self-descriptive, in that the terms which serve to describe it, can describe it and<br />
nothing else. Thus, there is no presence, truth, objectivity, thought without<br />
Reason. The absolute character of Reason is then indicated by the fact that the<br />
terms which describe it, including the term ‗Reason‘, are metaphors for one<br />
another, none of which, moreover, can be isolated as prior or fundamental.<br />
You are awake.<br />
It‘s still raining. I can hear it in the trees. Non-stop...<br />
What time is it?<br />
Around four... Brian? Will I feed him?<br />
No. I fed him...<br />
You‘ve slept a lot. That‘s good.<br />
More a waking dream, Dan... What does throwing bread on water mean?<br />
Mmm. I‘m not sure... Perhaps some kind of sacrifice... for good luck.<br />
It‘s a haunting idea... Water is a kind of chaos, don‘t you think?<br />
You mean finding one‘s way through chaos?<br />
Or being guided... By surrendering to fates. Something like that.<br />
But the verse I got was the one about giving charity as protection against bad<br />
131
luck...<br />
Yes... But the bad luck is here, Dan.<br />
How do you feel?<br />
Broody... Dan, I‘ve realised that I don‘t know how to mourn... The knowledge<br />
that mother is dead is like a heavy weight. It is beginning to bore me... I‘m not sure<br />
what to do.<br />
Perhaps you should come downstairs. I‘ve lit a fire... It‘s warmer.<br />
No. This is a better place for brooding... Do you realise that Solomon is said to<br />
have written Ecclesiastes?<br />
Is that so? And?<br />
You opened the Bible for Brian at Solomon‘s dream... Do you think there is a<br />
connection?<br />
Is that what you are brooding about?<br />
On that... and loads of other things... But it is strange, Dan, isn‘t it?<br />
Perhaps coincidence, Lotty.<br />
What if I open it now? I‘ll ask a specific question about that.<br />
You are deflecting your feelings again, Lotty. Come downstairs... Brian<br />
shouldn‘t be kept in the dark like this.<br />
I wouldn‘t know what to do down there, Dan. Can‘t you see that? I mean it<br />
when I say I don‘t know how to behave.<br />
If that is the case, Lotty, perhaps you should behave as normally as possible.<br />
Would you do that?<br />
Yes.<br />
Have you being doing research?<br />
Yes.<br />
But what could I do? I don‘t have a paper to prepare.<br />
You could prepare dinner... You haven‘t eaten for over twenty-four hours, you<br />
know.<br />
I‘m not hungry... Anyway, I feel that if I try to behave normally something<br />
will explode in me... Oh.<br />
What is it?<br />
That is true, you know... It is as if there was something powerful in me...<br />
Something I can‘t... find expression for... You know, crying is not enough, Dan.<br />
Lotty...<br />
No. I‘ll do it. I‘ll ask a specific question.<br />
Don‘t.<br />
Don‘t what, Dan?<br />
I was going to say don‘t meddle.<br />
Meddle with what?<br />
I‘m not sure... If your feelings are as strong as you say... Perhaps you should<br />
be careful... of what you use to express them.<br />
But the Bible, Dan... Isn‘t it the Holy Book? Weren‘t we taught that?<br />
But not to be used in that way... Perhaps you should pray.<br />
I don‘t know how to pray either!... Dan, don‘t you understand? I don’t know<br />
what to do.<br />
Oh sweetheart... I do feel for you.<br />
Yes... I know that... Dan, I must find out... Now...<br />
Lotty.<br />
No... I‘ll ask, What should I do? Oh.<br />
What is it?<br />
132
And he did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord, and followed the sins<br />
of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, which made Israel to sin; he departeth not therefrom...<br />
What was the evil, Dan?<br />
Let me see... Yes. Give me the Bible... Jeroboam went back to worshipping<br />
the golden calf...<br />
You were right, Dan.<br />
Don‘t be so surprised, Lotty ... What did you expect?<br />
I should try to pray.<br />
Yes.<br />
But how?<br />
Say the prayers you do know... And empty your mind as much as possible... A<br />
kind of meditation... Will I pray with you?<br />
No... No. But thank you, Dan... Go back down.<br />
Will you come down afterwards?<br />
Yes.<br />
I‘ll take Brian down, then.<br />
I‘d rather he stayed here with me... He is company, Dan.<br />
I wish I knew what you should do, Lotty.<br />
You have been a help... Go... Oh, and take the Bible, will you?<br />
Okay... But there are arrangements to be made, Lotty... The funeral.<br />
Oh, Dan... Oh...<br />
I‘ll do the practical things. But you might have to sign things... You are the<br />
next of kin.<br />
The only kin, Dan... Oh... It‘s so awful, Dan.<br />
Try to pray, sweetheart. It will give you peace.<br />
Yes... I will. I promise.<br />
Come down soon.<br />
Yes...<br />
Dan?<br />
You‘re awake?<br />
What time is it?<br />
About eleven.<br />
It‘s still raining... What an awful awful day.<br />
There‘s no end to it... How do you feel, sweetheart?<br />
I tr<strong>ie</strong>d to pray, Dan.<br />
And?<br />
It is so hard to concentrate. My mind keeps drifting... I‘m thinking about<br />
everything... literally.<br />
Yes. I can imagine.<br />
How do you feel, Dan? Should I ask that?<br />
Yes. I liked your mother... Alice... You know that... I keep thinking of the<br />
death of my parents.<br />
You have that, haven‘t you? I mean what you learned from that exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
I suppose so.<br />
What did it teach you?<br />
Pat<strong>ie</strong>nce, Lotty.<br />
133
Oh...<br />
It sorts itself out, Lotty... Give it time.<br />
How long, Dan?<br />
Years, I suppose... It‘s a kind of oscillation, you know... At the beginning the<br />
swing can take you down pretty low. But then they become less extreme... And also<br />
more spaced out... I feel the low point about once a month now... When I wish they<br />
were still alive. At other times I can accept it with some objectivity... You know what<br />
I mean? I can tell myself that everyone d<strong>ie</strong>s... But most of the time I feel little or<br />
nothing... There is a gap... But it is a universal exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. I mean it can be borne.<br />
I realise now that I let mother mourn for daddy... And gr<strong>ie</strong>ve... That‘s what<br />
you mean, isn‘t it?<br />
Yes. That‘s it.<br />
But Tom Spencer helped her... He was a kind of substitute... I mean a kind of<br />
shadow of daddy... If your mother were alive, Dan.<br />
Don‘t push the analogy too far, Lotty... Spencer was probably not simply a<br />
shadow, as you say.<br />
You are right, of course, Dan. I‘m just trying to make sense of it.<br />
Yes. I understand... I didn‘t mean to sound critical... Just beware of looking for<br />
a false consolation.<br />
You can be surprisingly tough-minded at times, Dan.<br />
Tough? I‘m not being callous, Lotty.<br />
No. Not hard... You are right, you know... But, Dan, it‘s like something one<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ves is whole and... well, complete... Then one thing happens which shows you<br />
that that wholeness is a total illusion... Everything falls apart... I‘m trying to fit some<br />
parts back together.<br />
Oh poor Lotty... It is hard for you... You are...<br />
What?<br />
So innocent in a way... I‘ve always liked that in you... You have such a<br />
capacity to trust... It makes you so all embracing... For me, I mean.<br />
Oh, Dan, I would never have thought of myself as innocent... I have always<br />
been so knowing.<br />
To me you seem innocent... And at a moment like this it makes you so<br />
vulnerable... I wish I could remove the pain for you.<br />
Dan, Dan... Oh... Oh Dan...<br />
Yes... Here... There now, sweetheart... You will get over it, you know... Wipe<br />
your eyes, sweetheart.<br />
Nff... Dan, you are very clever. I‘ve just realised that each time we talk I end<br />
up crying.<br />
It eases you, sweetheart.<br />
Yes... But you don‘t cry, Dan... Did you cry after your parents d<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
A little... But it was months afterwards.<br />
Perhaps you should have cr<strong>ie</strong>d, Dan.<br />
But I did gr<strong>ie</strong>ve, Lotty.<br />
Did you pray?<br />
Not really... I hadn‘t thought of it.<br />
Why did you suggest that I pray, then?<br />
It seemed the best thing to do... Seen from the outside, I mean.<br />
But I don‘t know how to pray either it seems... How did you manage then,<br />
Dan? You didn‘t cry and you didn‘t pray.<br />
Just kept going, I suppose... How is Brian?<br />
134
Very qu<strong>ie</strong>t... I think he knows something is wrong... But he has been very<br />
good... Even playful.<br />
Perhaps he is trying to cheer you up.<br />
Yes... Mother is right, Dan... He is a good child.<br />
He is... Do you want anything? Before I come to bed. No.<br />
You haven‘t eaten today.<br />
I don‘t feel like it... I‘ve drunk a lot of water... I‘ll eat tomorrow.<br />
Do. Will you sleep?<br />
After a while... Don‘t worry about me... Go to sleep.<br />
Yes... Goodnight.<br />
Goodnight, darling...<br />
MONDAY<br />
DUBLIN JOURNAL<br />
August 1985<br />
Monday 5th. Dun Laoghaire.<br />
Two incidents last night.<br />
One: Took a walk on deck as ship entered harbour: cooped up below all the<br />
way across: I wanted to see the coastline and the mountains: too cloudy and<br />
wet: a crewman — Welsh — short and brown — he was waiting to throw a<br />
line ashore — said to me, out of the blue: ‗They call it the old sod, sir. Too<br />
bleeding right.‘ He laughed. I said, without thinking, ‗But it‘s been raining<br />
since London.‘ He realised at once that I wasn‘t English. He was very put<br />
out.<br />
Two: At the exit of the terminal an old man had collapsed. People milled<br />
about him. I could get around him, but I had to step over his case. I felt very<br />
deflated afterwards. It took the good out of the arrival. All for the best, no<br />
doubt.<br />
Hamiltons Funeral Directors.<br />
Good morning. I want to arrange a funeral.<br />
Yes, sir. The details?<br />
Right. The deceased is Misses Alice Jameson. She was killed in a traffic<br />
accident on Saturday. Her body is in the Sligo hospital.<br />
When can we collect it?<br />
Tomorrow.<br />
Very good. Is there a grave yet?<br />
Yes. Dean‘s Grange. It‘s a double grave. Her husband is there already... You<br />
handled that funeral.<br />
What was his name.<br />
135
car.<br />
Victor Jameson. He d<strong>ie</strong>d about seven years ago.<br />
Ah. We‘ll have the grave number then.<br />
I thought so... The address is Fosters Avenue.<br />
About the collection... Are you the next of kin?<br />
No. My wife is... Will she have to sign anything?<br />
Not really. Give me the name.<br />
Misses Charlotte White. She‘s her daughter.<br />
I see... When do you want the funeral to take place?<br />
Wednesday?... There‘s no reason for delaying it.<br />
Yes... Wednesday then... We‘ll keep the remains in the mortuary here?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good... How many cars will you want, Mister White?<br />
I don‘t know... It will be private... Actually, I thought we would use our own<br />
Very well.<br />
Is there anything else?<br />
Not at the moment. I‘ll ring you back if there is... You‘re in the book?<br />
Yes,<br />
Good... Oh, you can pay your respects at the mortuary, if you wish...<br />
Anytime on Tuesday evening... Say after six.<br />
Yes... Well, goodbye. And thank you.<br />
Goodbye, Mister White... And give your wife our condolences.<br />
Thank you.<br />
Irish Times. Good morning.<br />
Good morning. I want to place a notice of death, please.<br />
Hold on... You‘re through.<br />
Hello?<br />
Yes?<br />
I want to place a notice of death.<br />
Yes... .Go ahead.<br />
Oh... The name is Misses Alice Jameson... Of Fosters Avenue. She d<strong>ie</strong>d on<br />
Saturday... .What date?<br />
The third.<br />
Thank you... Missed by her daughter... Charlotte... and her son-in-law...<br />
Yes... And... no flowers... The funeral will be private.<br />
I‘ll read it back... This is how it will appear... Jameson bracket Mount<br />
Merrion close bracket stop. August three nineteen eighty-five comma Alice stop.<br />
Sadly missed by her daughter Charlotte and son-in-law stop. No flowers please stop.<br />
Private funeral stop... Your name and address please.<br />
Dan<strong>ie</strong>l White, fifteen Carlisle Avenue, Dublin four.<br />
Can you authenticate this please?<br />
Pardon?<br />
Oh... We need some evidence that this death occurred, Mister White.<br />
What kind of evidence?... I tell you what... Would the word of a police<br />
officer be suffic<strong>ie</strong>nt?... You see, it was a traffic accident... In County Leitrim.<br />
Yes. That would do.<br />
Can you ring a Detective Sergeant Michael Sheehy?... Of the Special Traffic<br />
Section?... It‘s in the new headquarters in Harcourt Street.<br />
136
Yes. That will do grand.<br />
Will it go in tomorrow‘s edition?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good. Thank you.<br />
Goodbye.<br />
Goodbye.<br />
Yes?... Hello.<br />
Jim?<br />
Hhh?... Who‘s that?<br />
It‘s Dick.<br />
Oh. Hello... I didn‘t recognise your voice... Where are you ringing from? The<br />
line is very clear.<br />
From Dun Laoghaire<br />
Dun Laoghaire!... I didn‘t know you were coming over... Does mother?<br />
No. It was a sudden decision. I had been thinking of it all summer... But the<br />
summer doesn‘t look as though it will get any better. So I decided on Friday to come<br />
over.<br />
How long will you stay?... No. It‘s Dick... No. He‘s in Dublin... That was<br />
Anne... Watch out. Here comes Aiden... Better speak to him, Dick.<br />
Hello, Aiden, can you hear me?<br />
H‘llo.<br />
Hello.<br />
H‘llo.<br />
Where is Colm, Aiden?<br />
He‘s inside... He can‘t get out... He can‘t open the door yet.<br />
And you can... Can you open the door?<br />
Oh yes... I can open all the doors.<br />
Aren‘t you very clever?<br />
Yes... Colm can‘t open any doors at all.<br />
No doubt he‘ll learn soon enough... Can I speak to your daddy again.<br />
Okay... Goodbye.<br />
Goodbye... Jim?<br />
Yes. He‘s satisf<strong>ie</strong>d for the moment,<br />
How are they?<br />
They‘re in fine form... You can hear Colm?<br />
He wants to get out to the phone?<br />
Yes. He cop<strong>ie</strong>s everything Aiden does... And of course Aiden tr<strong>ie</strong>s to do<br />
things that he can‘t copy.<br />
They sound a handful.<br />
Worse as they get older.<br />
Someone said that little boys should he put in barrels and fed through the<br />
bungholes until they were eighteen.<br />
Good idea... How are you?<br />
Pretty good.<br />
How is the writing?<br />
I finished something a while ago. I‘m waiting to hear from the publishers.<br />
Will there be any difficulty?<br />
137
I don‘t know, I never found anyone for the last novel... Too expensive to<br />
publish, apparently.<br />
Really? But the earl<strong>ie</strong>r ones sold, didn‘t they?<br />
Moderately... The attitude has changed. They are only interested in things<br />
they can pour a fortune into... You know, blockbusters and loads of hype.<br />
You should get an agent, Dick.<br />
Maybe... I suppose I want to stay outside the whole scene... How is the<br />
planning game?<br />
The usual shambles.<br />
Well... You seem to be doing well enough all the same, Jim... Mother told me<br />
you were promoted again.<br />
Yes. But there is a bottleneck now. It could be ten or twelve years before I<br />
move again.<br />
Cutbacks?<br />
Not so much that as an end to expansion.<br />
What about the new councils they are setting up in place of the city and<br />
county councils?<br />
Oh that... There will be now titles, but no hard promotion. Salar<strong>ie</strong>s will be<br />
much as now... No. I‘ll have to go outside Dublin if I want to go further.<br />
Do you?<br />
That‘s the rationale of it... Weber said that careerism was the essential nature<br />
of bureaucracy... He was right.<br />
Still, Anne is pleased.<br />
Yes... It means that I‘m being noticed. That‘s important to her.<br />
How is she?<br />
Very well. You know we‘re expecting another child.<br />
Yes. When?<br />
Around early February.<br />
Perhaps a girl this time?<br />
Anne does... And me.<br />
How is mother?<br />
She‘s very well. She was here for dinner last night... When did you come in?<br />
Last night. I spent the night here in Dun Laoghaire.<br />
I thought so. You should have rung when you got in... You could have stayed<br />
here.<br />
No. I like to spend the first night here... It gives me time to adjust.<br />
You should fly over, Dick. It would be much quicker.<br />
I have the time, Jim... I enjoy it.<br />
How long will you stay?<br />
A week or so... The summer is about over.<br />
Do you want to come out here?<br />
I thought I‘d stay in Dublin itself, Jim. More central.<br />
Have you rung mother yet?<br />
No. I‘ll do that tomorrow.<br />
Do you have a place in Dublin yet?<br />
No.<br />
Well, there‘s a guest house in Rathmines. In Grosvenor Road. I‘ll ring them<br />
if you like.<br />
If you would... What number is it?<br />
Fourteen.<br />
138
I‘ll go in this afternoon. I can take an eighteen from Ballsbridge?<br />
Yes... Will you come to dinner tonight?<br />
No. Not tonight, Jim... Say Wednesday.<br />
Wednesday. Good... You will go to see mother before that?<br />
Yes. I‘ll probably go tomorrow.<br />
Right. I‘ll see you Wednesday then... And I‘ll ring that place now... It should<br />
be alright.<br />
Good... Thanks, Jim... I‘ll see you.<br />
I‘ll see you, Dick.<br />
Yes?... Paul Clarke.<br />
Reverend Clarke?... My name is Dan<strong>ie</strong>l White... Of Carlisle Avenue.<br />
Ah. Doctor White... How are you? We have not had the pleasure of meeting<br />
yet... But I have met your lovely wife, Charlotte.<br />
So I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve, Reverend Clarke... Actually, I want to speak to you about my<br />
wife... Her mother d<strong>ie</strong>d on Saturday. We were wondering if you...<br />
I thought the name was familiar... Misses Alice Jameson, isn‘t that it?<br />
Why yes.<br />
It was on the radio yesterday morning... I always listen to orr tee ee on<br />
Sunday mornings, Doctor White. So preparing, you know... I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve I met Misses<br />
Jameson... About two months ago... Your wife, Charlotte, was expecting?<br />
That‘s right... We had a son about a month ago.<br />
Yes. Yes... It was a sudden death, Doctor White... Charlotte must be very<br />
shocked.<br />
She is, Reverend Clarke.<br />
Do call me Paul... And perhaps I could call you Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. There is no need for<br />
formality between a pastor and his flock, you know... And certainly, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, I will do<br />
what I can for you both... The Spirit is always willing, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... Do you bel<strong>ie</strong>ve<br />
that?... Would you like me to call on you?<br />
If you could... We have arranged the funeral for Wednesday morning...<br />
Dean‘s Grange... I‘m not sure of the time yet.<br />
Will you be at home this evening?... At about seven... I would come sooner,<br />
but...<br />
That will be fine... I look forward to meeting you.<br />
And I look forward to getting to know you, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... I stud<strong>ie</strong>d at Trinity too<br />
you know. Graduated in seventy-eight. The same year as Charlotte... You were there<br />
then?... Preparing your doctorate.<br />
Yes, that‘s right... Did we ever meet?<br />
Not directly, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... I have a strong interest in history, you see... Your name<br />
cropped up, as you might expect... You went over to politics... However...<br />
Well, goodbye till this evening.<br />
Goodbye, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... May the Spirit be with you.<br />
You are up.<br />
139
Yes.<br />
I‘ll draw the curtains, Lotty.<br />
Dan...<br />
It‘s a bright day, Lotty... I‘ve made a number of arrangements... That<br />
clergyman will be here this evening to discuss the funeral.<br />
This evening?<br />
I‘ll put Brian out in the garden. He should have sun and air... Will you come<br />
down and eat?<br />
You are in a very determined mood, Dan.<br />
There are things to be done, Lotty... However we feel... Come on, Brian.<br />
Reverend Clarke annoys you?<br />
Did you know him at College?<br />
Faintly... Very enthusiastic about history.<br />
So I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve... He didn‘t have to work at it.<br />
What is it, Dan?... It‘s very rarely that someone gets to you.<br />
He‘s far too presumptuous, Lotty... Who is he?<br />
I‘m not sure... I was told once that they have some kind of poultry business in<br />
Cavan... Dan, it‘s probably difficult for him... I mean the clergy are so isolated now...<br />
They jump at any chance to have contact with their parishioners.<br />
Their parishioners are those who attend church, Lotty. Not those who happen<br />
to live in their parish.<br />
You can tell him that this evening, Dan.<br />
Hhh... You are right, Lotty... I don‘t want to hurt his feelings. As you say,<br />
he‘s only doing his duty... But when these clergymen speak, language seems to lose<br />
its shape.<br />
You mean their rhetoric?<br />
No. Not that alone. Rhetoric can enhance expression... But words lose their<br />
meaning... Can you see that?<br />
In what way?<br />
Words can‘t express what these religious people bel<strong>ie</strong>ve. So when they use<br />
them, their meanings seem to float. The words always seem to mean something else.<br />
Yes, That‘s true... But what is wrong with that, Dan?... That is religion.<br />
No! That is phantasy. At worst it is a kind of novelty hunting... There‘s<br />
nothing original in religion. But these young clergymen don‘t seem to realise this.<br />
Why are you so annoyed, Dan? It‘s not like you... why are you so upset?<br />
Yes. Give me a moment... Come downstairs... Let‘s eat... We must go over to<br />
Fosters Avenue.<br />
To the house?... Why?<br />
Apparently news of the crash was on the radio yesterday.<br />
Was it?... I suppose it would have been. They always report that kind of<br />
accident. But why should we go out?<br />
Don‘t you see? To some people that would mean that the house was empty.<br />
They could burgle it.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
It‘s what I would do if I was at that game.<br />
The house of a dead woman, Dan?<br />
It‘s an empty house. It‘s an affluent suburb.<br />
You mean steal a dead woman‘s possessions?... My mother?<br />
Property is property, Lotty... It‘s value belongs to its possessor regardless of<br />
how it is acquired... What would you like to eat? You must be very hungry.<br />
140
Yes. I am... Yes. We‘ll go out. You are right, Dan... Trust you to think of it.<br />
I suggest you drink about a pint of warm water first. It will relax your<br />
system... Here.<br />
Thanks... But why are you so annoyed, Dan?<br />
I‘m not sure. It happened very suddenly... I‘m not really sure what caused it.<br />
Wasn‘t it Reverend Clarke?<br />
Perhaps. That‘s what I thought at first... But he is rather harmless... As you<br />
say, isolated... Will you eat an orange? I thought I would do scrambled eggs.<br />
Have you not eaten yet?<br />
No. I had some coffee earl<strong>ie</strong>r.<br />
You‘re annoyed at me, Dan... Aren‘t you?<br />
At you?<br />
Yes... Sitting up in that dark room.<br />
It‘s much brighter today... Yesterday was one of the most miserable days I<br />
have ever exper<strong>ie</strong>nced... I feel active. I want to go out.<br />
Yes... Well, Dan, it worked... I‘ll have scrambled egg.<br />
Good... I‘ll put Brian out while you eat that orange...<br />
Krk!<br />
Krkrkrk! Krk!<br />
I can hear the magp<strong>ie</strong>s... No. Leave the door open for a while.<br />
They are always there, Lotty.<br />
Funny I never noticed them before... But I must have seen them in the<br />
garden.<br />
You probably did... Brian likes them. He lit up the moment he heard them.<br />
Is he safe?<br />
We can keep an eye on him from here.<br />
Krkrk!<br />
What a horrible sound.<br />
Crack. Crack... But their plumage is beautiful, Lotty... You should watch<br />
them flying.<br />
They seem so ruthless... You know, bestial.<br />
Watch a sparrow feeding, Lotty. Animals are just single-minded. They don‘t<br />
intend anything... Unlike humans. It‘s just the way they are.<br />
Yes, I know... I had a cat as a child... It was almost pure white. We called it<br />
Lucy... I found it playing with something one day. It was so thoroughly involved that<br />
I was curious to know what could interest her so much... It was a young mouse. But<br />
the mouse was so traumatised by Lucy‘s baiting that it couldn‘t move after I had<br />
taken Lucy away... Daddy had to put it out of its misery... She was a very affectionate<br />
cat.<br />
What happened then?<br />
Oh we gave her away... I hated her after that.<br />
Here... Eat slowly.<br />
Yes... Thanks... Perhaps it was a reaction to mother‘s death?<br />
Mmm?... Could be that too.<br />
Are you very repressed, do you think?<br />
Repressed?<br />
I always thought of you as cool and steady. But you are more complex...<br />
Emotionally, I mean.<br />
I should think so. I‘m not a machine.<br />
No... And you can be passionate... More passionate than I am... But you<br />
141
should show your feelings more, Dan.<br />
I don‘t suppress them consciously, if that is what you mean.<br />
No. You don‘t... Do you deflect them into your research, do you think?<br />
Hardly... That‘s supposed to be unemotional, you know.<br />
That‘s what I mean.<br />
Would that be true of all academics?<br />
I don‘t know... But in my exper<strong>ie</strong>nce they are very deliberate... Even female<br />
academics.. .Oh, look.<br />
What?<br />
That magp<strong>ie</strong> is on Brian‘s cot again... Shooh! Go away!... It won‘t move,<br />
Dan... Chase it away... Please.<br />
Oh it‘s not doing any harm... Hoi!... Scat!... There.<br />
It took no notice of me, Dan... But it jumped when you shouted.<br />
So did Brian... He‘s alright... Look how lively he is... He really does like the<br />
magp<strong>ie</strong>s, Lotty... Anyway, your voice is not loud enough.<br />
We should put a screen over him, Dan.<br />
He won‘t be able to see anything at all then.<br />
Then bring him in, Dan... We‘ll be going now.<br />
Okay... Up you come, old son... Say goodbye to the Magp<strong>ie</strong>s... There... He‘s<br />
waving, Lotty... He seems to understand that.<br />
Krk!<br />
And the magp<strong>ie</strong>s too... What do you think of that, Lotty? Isn‘t that<br />
extraordinary?<br />
He‘s too young, Dan. He can‘t see that far yet... . Give him to me. I want to<br />
change him.<br />
I‘ll get the car out... Will you be long?<br />
No... He‘s clean... I want to put a clean suit on him.<br />
Krkrk!<br />
Close the back door, will you, Dan.<br />
Don‘t take so much notice of them, Lotty.<br />
Farmers shoot them as vermin.<br />
I know... They have driven most of the blackbirds out of College... Only the<br />
thrushes seem to stand up to them... They‘re all over the city now, in any case.<br />
Then all we‘ll hear is their horrible crack crack... There... We‘ll go out with<br />
you, Dan.<br />
Right... Don‘t forget the key to Fosters Avenue.<br />
Of course... It‘s here... I‘ve got it.<br />
There‘s not much wind... Will you put Brian in the back.<br />
Will it rain?<br />
Showers perhaps... But we won‘t be out in it.<br />
I do wish it would clear up. It has been like this for weeks.<br />
Yes... How do you feel?<br />
Better... You were right, you know. The awful gloom does ease.<br />
The first days are the worst.<br />
The weather helps... Yesterday expressed my mood so completely, Dan.<br />
Didn‘t it?... The whole of nature in sympathy?<br />
I wouldn‘t go that far... But a heat wave would have been incongruous.<br />
I‘m glad you feel better, though.<br />
Yes... But I feel brittle, Dan... You do too, don‘t you?<br />
Brittle?... Something like that... It‘s good to get out.<br />
142
props.<br />
Yes... Everything looks sodden, Dan.<br />
And brittle... Colours are too bright.<br />
Yes... It‘s a kind of facade, really... As though the houses and trees were just<br />
I see what you mean...<br />
And there‘s nothing behind them.<br />
But there is.<br />
Yes... But it doesn‘t seem like it today... I feel that if I looked behind that<br />
house, for instance, I would see nothing at all... Just a dark blank space.<br />
That‘s just the mood you are in, Lotty.<br />
I know... By the way, I dreamed of the seal last night.<br />
Did you?... I thought you had gone beyond that stage.<br />
So did I... It was exactly the same dream. It was diving down down into the<br />
sea... Isn‘t that strange?<br />
Why?<br />
Mother‘s death had no effect on it.<br />
Did you expect that?<br />
I assume that is why I had it again.<br />
Hardly... It will be some time before that exper<strong>ie</strong>nce appears in your dream.<br />
How do you know that?<br />
On analogy with writing. I find that the knowledge which appears in the deep<br />
structures of my writing is usually a year behind what I‘m dealing with on the surface.<br />
How do you mean, Dan?<br />
Well, take an essay. There is the subject matter. That‘s the surface element...<br />
What the writing is about. Then there is the whole structure of the essay... The bits<br />
that connect the elements of the surface. And the assumptions behind how the essay is<br />
organised and the tendency of my argument... That‘s the deep structure... That is<br />
usually about a year behind the surface element... I reckon then that it takes about a<br />
year... though probably a bit less... for knowledge... I should say significant<br />
knowledge... to be absorbed to those levels... I think dreams are like that too... though<br />
I don‘t know how long it takes for material to be absorbed... But I don‘t see why it<br />
shouldn‘t be the same... After all it‘s the same mental structure.<br />
What about the unconscious?<br />
Or subconscious... Most of the mind appears to be below consciousness... In<br />
fact I would say that consciousness is an instrument of the mind rather than a state...<br />
But even then it seems to shade off into unconsciousness... Most of my thinking,<br />
anyway, is unconscious.<br />
So it is the old dream... Is that what you are saying?<br />
Yes... It must have been put in abeyance for some reason... Though perhaps<br />
your mother‘s death has triggered it again.<br />
What is the dream about, Dan?<br />
What do you think?<br />
Some part of me is diving down after something.<br />
What?<br />
Brian, I suppose... To bring him back.<br />
To the womb?<br />
Yes<br />
Okay... You stopped doing that for a few days... After I made you conscious<br />
of it... And because of your mother‘s death you have resumed diving?<br />
It would seem so.<br />
143
Here we are... Everything looks as it should.<br />
How lonely it seems, Dan.<br />
Sad.<br />
Yes.<br />
Is it solid?<br />
Inert.<br />
Good word... A memorial?<br />
I feel my childhood flowing through me.<br />
Do you mind going in?<br />
No... We‘ll bring Brian.<br />
Yes... Of course... Lotty.<br />
Hmm?<br />
Do you know what I think your dream is about?<br />
What?<br />
About your becoming a mother.<br />
And that‘s not the same thing?<br />
I don‘t think so.<br />
How did you see that?<br />
You treat Brian as some kind of talisman. Have you noticed?... You keep him<br />
by you all the time.<br />
You are very perceptive, Dan.<br />
Yes... Let‘s go... Give me the key... You can take Brian.<br />
What is going to happen to her garden, Dan?<br />
We‘ll have to work that out later... You will have to do something about the<br />
house as well.<br />
It‘s not mine, Dan.<br />
It is... She‘s left you everything... It‘s quite a bit.<br />
How do you know?<br />
The security locks are on... She told me.<br />
When?<br />
Shortly after we told her you were expecting... I think she wanted to reassure<br />
me about the future... Did she not tell you?<br />
Not so directly... I always assumed, I suppose.<br />
Everything seems to be in order... But look, Lotty, I think we should take the<br />
moveable valuables away. The television and stereo... And her jewellery.<br />
Do you?<br />
In case anyone does break in... We‘ll make a list of what we take... For the<br />
solicitor.<br />
Oh Dan... It is so sad... It really is... It was a senseless accident... How on<br />
earth could it happen? Tom was a show-off, but he wasn‘t reckless.<br />
I don‘t know... Anything could have happened... He could have misjudged a<br />
bend or something... Those narrow country roads.<br />
But to kill both of them?<br />
What?<br />
He must have crashed at some speed.<br />
Perhaps they wanted to get to Galway as early as they could.<br />
No. Mother doesn‘t like speed... She would not have let him.<br />
What are you getting at, Lotty?<br />
Her death... The crash... everything... It‘s just too senseless... Wait... Dan...<br />
There‘s something... Dan, who would want mother to d<strong>ie</strong>?<br />
144
What is it, Lotty?<br />
Something... Can‘t you feel it?... No?... You don‘t know this house as I do...<br />
Someone has been here, Dan.<br />
Lotty!<br />
No, Dan... Wait... I‘ll show you... I can feel it.<br />
Nothing is disturbed, Lotty... You are looking for a scapegoat again.<br />
The cushions!... Dan, the cushions on the sofa... Look! Mother would never<br />
put them like that... Lying flat on the seat... Can you see?... She always laid them<br />
against the back and slightly angled... That was one of her pet obsessions...<br />
Everything should seem to be in motion. She hated square or flat arrangements.<br />
Are you sure?<br />
Let‘s look upstairs.<br />
Do you want to leave Brian here?<br />
No... He‘s not heavy.<br />
The house was searched?<br />
What else... unless... in here... This is her bedroom... You can see for yourself<br />
here, Dan... They were less careful... Look at the shoe... at the bed... They forgot to<br />
put it back... Mother wouldn‘t leave her shoes in a jumble like that.<br />
Her jewellery?<br />
The box is under here. It‘s a kind of safe... No... It‘s all here... But it was<br />
searched too.<br />
How do you know?<br />
That.<br />
What is it?<br />
That‘s how I knew, Dan... Yes... Whoever searched here was smoking... See<br />
the ash under the box?... Mother doesn‘t smoke... Nor does Tom... I must have<br />
smelled it... It would hang in an airless room.<br />
It was searched recently then.<br />
Why?... Her jewellery is here. And her papers... And. Wait... Yes... She<br />
always keeps some money here... For emergenc<strong>ie</strong>s... How much is there, Dan?<br />
One hundred... twenty-six... A hundred and twenty-six pounds... We had<br />
better take this as well... Hold on.<br />
What?<br />
Playing detective... I want to see if the house is being watched... No... At<br />
least not that I can see... Look, bring the money and the other things we‘re going to<br />
bring the car into the drive...<br />
Hold on... I‘ll come down with you.<br />
Shy of being in your mother‘s room alone?<br />
Yes. To be honest... I can feel her presence so strongly.<br />
I remember that at home... After the accident... Actually... I‘ll tell you again...<br />
Put Brian in the drawing room, Lotty...<br />
I‘ll open the gates for you.<br />
Okay... I‘ll reverse in. Put the other things in the boot.<br />
Krk!<br />
Krkrk!<br />
Oh... Come straight in now, Dan... The magp<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
Here?.. Yes... One. Two... Two for joy, anyway... Come on... Let‘s get this<br />
done… I‘ll bring the television... Perhaps you should take the silver?<br />
Yes... I‘ll get something to put it in...<br />
Put it on the floor of the car... Not in the boot.<br />
145
Okay...<br />
Krkrk!<br />
Uuu!<br />
Mmm?<br />
What?<br />
I think Brian made his first sound... Brian?... Uuuu!<br />
Oh he‘s laughing!<br />
Krkrk! Krk!<br />
Uuu!<br />
See?<br />
Extraordinary... He‘s fascinated by those birds... Have you got it all?<br />
Yes... Is there anything else?<br />
The books?<br />
Not that valuable.<br />
Let‘s go then... Come on, old son... Talking to the birds?... Uuuu!<br />
He loves that.<br />
Yes... Oh... Yes... I‘ll put him in... Right... Ignition... Lotty, don‘t look<br />
suddenly... There‘s a blue Talbot down the road to your left... I‘m going the other<br />
way... Glance as I turn... Now.<br />
Yes... I think you‘re right.<br />
He‘s not following... Lotty, I‘ve just remembered some thing... That<br />
detective... Sheehy... he knew precisely when Spencer and your mother crossed the<br />
Border. He said the ar you cee had logged them.<br />
I don‘t remember... I think I was too shocked.<br />
I daresay... But why would the ar you cee log that?... I‘m sure they don‘t take<br />
note of every car that crosses... There‘s something just too insidious about that... But<br />
what is more important, Lotty, is this... Why did Sheehy tell us that?<br />
Dan, what are you getting at?<br />
In the hall, Sheehy asked me what I knew about Spencer‘s business... Why?<br />
Do you think Tom was up to something?... My God... In the North?<br />
I don‘t know... But look, Lotty... Again... The accident occurred fairly soon<br />
after they crossed the Border... I wonder if they were escorted to the Border?... If that<br />
was so, then it‘s clear that the Guards didn‘t provide thorn with protection once they<br />
had crossed.<br />
They were attacked?<br />
I don‘t know.<br />
Who would know?<br />
Again I don‘t know.<br />
Dan, don‘t say those things if you have no proof!<br />
It‘s circumstantial... Lotty, that detective didn‘t know why Spencer was in the<br />
North. But he was hoping we did... He came to tell us himself so he could gauge our<br />
reaction.<br />
You mean he thinks we are mixed up in something?... With the eye ar aye?<br />
No. Of course not.<br />
Who then?... The protestants?<br />
Perhaps.<br />
But we‘ve no connection with them.<br />
We‘re prods too.<br />
No!<br />
From the heart, Lotty... Who then? Who else is there?<br />
146
The English?... Do you think Tom Spencer was a British secret agent?<br />
Tom‘s from Surrey... His family is still there.<br />
But there are lots of English people here. Surely they are not all sp<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
Tom Spencer... and your mother... were killed in a senseless crash on a lonely<br />
road just after leaving the North. A departure, moreover, which was carefully noted<br />
by the Northern police. And a somewhat heavy cop from a section called the Special<br />
Traffic Section comes to tell us about it... Normally, I assume they would send<br />
someone around from Donnybrook station.<br />
Dan?<br />
Yes?<br />
Wow!<br />
Hhh... Hah... You don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it?<br />
You said I was trying to blame someone for my mother‘s death. But when<br />
you set about doing it, you really make up a good story... It‘s fantastic, Dan... The ar<br />
you cee probably note every car that crosses the Border. Why not? They have<br />
computers, I suppose. The Special Traffic Section or whatever probably does deal<br />
with serious, that is, special road accidents. And one in which two people are killed is<br />
surely serious... Why are you reading so much into it?<br />
I‘m paranoid.<br />
But only about Russian and American jet bombers?<br />
And memorial lectures.<br />
And memorial lectures.<br />
I‘ll reverse in... You take the money and the jewellery in... I‘ll bring the other<br />
things in... Leave Brian to last... He‘s asleep, anyway.<br />
Give me the door keys. I didn‘t bring mine... Okay... I‘ll come back for the<br />
silver.<br />
Do that... Na!... Damned thing is heavy...<br />
Put it in the hall... The neighbours will wonder.<br />
Let them... Can you bring the speakers... Then I‘ll get Brian.<br />
Okay...<br />
That‘s it.<br />
I‘ll lock the car.<br />
Do... Down you go, sleepy head... Uuu!... He‘s happy, Lotty.<br />
What did you expect?<br />
I don‘t know... He is resil<strong>ie</strong>nt.<br />
So you have said.<br />
We better put this stuff away before the Reverend comes.<br />
What time?<br />
Around seven.<br />
It‘s nearly that.<br />
Yes.<br />
Where?<br />
The dining room.<br />
Let‘s go. I‘ll help.<br />
They‘re heavy.<br />
I‘m not that weak.<br />
Okay.<br />
I‘ll take the stereo anyway.<br />
The silver... This is yours now, Lotty.<br />
Yes... But I would rather have mother.<br />
147
I know... There... Now... Lotty. One thing about my paranoid phantasy.<br />
What?<br />
Who searched Fosters‘ Avenue and why?<br />
Another delusion?<br />
Was it?<br />
Except for the ash, Dan... There‘s no escaping that.<br />
So?<br />
It becomes sinister again... The phone.<br />
Will I?<br />
Yes... Do.<br />
Hello.<br />
Dan?<br />
Maire?<br />
Yes.<br />
Lousy line. Where are you speaking from?<br />
Clifden.<br />
Where‘s that?<br />
Home. In County Galway. In the West. In Connemara. About two hundred<br />
miles away from you.<br />
All of that?<br />
Aren‘t you in mourning, Dan? You‘re not that irreverent really?<br />
We are... Hold on... It‘s Maire... From her home in County Galway. .<br />
Is that Charlotte?<br />
Not yet... We‘ve discovered we don‘t know how to mourn.<br />
Dan! Stop it... Let me speak to Charlotte.<br />
Okay... Hold on... She wants to speak to you.<br />
Hello, Maire.<br />
Charlotte. I‘m so sorry, Charlotte. I heard it on the news yesterday, but I<br />
waited till today to ring... It must be a terrible shock.<br />
It was, Maire... I don‘t think I fully realise it yet.<br />
Yes... I rang earl<strong>ie</strong>r.<br />
We were out.<br />
Oh... That was a good idea... The weather was better. After yesterday... I‘m<br />
glad you are not brooding.<br />
Dan was firm.<br />
Trust him... So many confuse mourning and moaning... Tell Dan that.<br />
I will. No doubt he will appreciate it...<br />
Charlotte... I am sorry for you.<br />
I know, Maire.<br />
Is there anything 1 can do? When I come up tomorrow.<br />
Thank you, but no... There‘s really not much one can do.<br />
When is the funeral?<br />
Dan, when is the funeral?<br />
Wednesday morning.<br />
Wednesday morning, Maire.<br />
Dean‘s Grange?<br />
Dean‘s Grange?... Yes, Maire. Dean‘s Grange.<br />
I met your mother about four times. She was charming, Charlotte. So<br />
vivacious,<br />
Yes, Maire. She was.<br />
148
Oh... I‘ll come and see you if I may, Charlotte,<br />
Do... Thank you for ringing.<br />
Yes... Give my regards to Dan and Brian, won‘t you?<br />
I will... Bye... See you.<br />
Goodbye, Charlotte.<br />
Lotty.<br />
It‘s part of it, Dan... She means well.<br />
Yes... Poor Maire.<br />
Why? She really is a gregarious person.<br />
Yes... Ah. The Reverend Clarke.<br />
Do you want to freshen?<br />
No, Dan... Mmm... Actually, I look the part now.<br />
I‘ll go... Are you getting cynical?<br />
Oh no... Irony... I‘m assuming the role... It is a social role.<br />
Yes... hello... Reverend Clarke?<br />
Ah, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. So glad to meet you at last... Charlotte! You poor girl. I am so<br />
sorry to hear about this bereavement... I‘m glad you called me... You know, the Spirit<br />
is always willing... Shall we go inside?<br />
Yes...Thank you for coming.<br />
Well now... It is sad... What can I say by way of consolation? Not for the<br />
dead, you understand, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, Charlotte. The dead pass into the unknown. To be<br />
frank, we don‘t know what happens after death. I mean, sc<strong>ie</strong>ntifically, that is...<br />
Empirically. But we have two p<strong>ie</strong>ces of evidence... The first p<strong>ie</strong>ce is if you like public<br />
knowledge. I mean that it is secular... discovered by human reason unaided. You<br />
should he familiar with it, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... you are a scholar... You see, Charlotte, energy is<br />
finally indestructible. That is right, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?... And... and matter is energy... so matter<br />
is indestructible... This means, Charlotte... Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, that while your mother, dear Alice<br />
Jameson, is dead to us, corporally she is still present... She will always be present...<br />
Do you see, Charlotte?... Your mother will always he with us in that way... There is<br />
nowhere else for her to go... Ah…<br />
Reverend... Paul.<br />
Yes, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?<br />
Would you like some tea?<br />
Oh n...<br />
Charlotte was on the point of making some when you arrived... We have just<br />
come in.<br />
Oh, in that case... Tea would be very welcome.<br />
Charlotte?<br />
Excuse me... both of you.<br />
Certainly... Poor Charlotte, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. It has been such a shock... God knows it<br />
is the one certainty in every life. And yet it is always such a shock... Such a wrench...<br />
Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, it leaves such a gap.<br />
Yes... of course.<br />
But the ever-presence of the totality of energy in the universe, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... isn‘t<br />
that a priceless truth to possess?... I mean, it makes the material plane that much less<br />
al<strong>ie</strong>n to us... Think what a difference such a truth would have made to Saint Paul or<br />
Saint Augustine... You see, the material is not simply opposed to the Spirit, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l...<br />
As Paul and Augustine bel<strong>ie</strong>ved... No! The Spirit permeates it... Remember, the Spirit<br />
flew over the waters in the very beginning... The waters of chaos were dark...<br />
undifferentiated... without order... even, I tell you, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, without... potential... But<br />
149
the Spirit flew over the waters... That was the beginning of creation, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... The<br />
Spirit brought light... For the first thing God said was... Let there be light!... Then<br />
there was differentiation... for then there was both day and night... You see, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l,<br />
there was the basis of time... Differentiation is temporal, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... That is a profound<br />
insight... Then God separated the waters and the earth... He separated the flowing<br />
from the still... in that way, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, God created order... you see? Order is the fixed in<br />
the flux... Order maintains, sustains and remains. Finally, God created life... potency...<br />
Mark that, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... The Spirit brought life to the material... The potential comes from<br />
outside matter... Now, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... and this is the deep insight here... Energy is not life...<br />
The potential does not He in the mere movement of matter or in f<strong>ie</strong>lds of force... No<br />
Life comes from the Spirit, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l!... Potential is the direction given to material<br />
motion... Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, it is an absolutely distinct impress on energy... A total transformation<br />
of blind force... And, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, what is this direction that the Spirit gives?... It is<br />
easily deduced, you know... Well, it is the spiritual order... A transcendental order that<br />
is overlaid on material order... You see, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?... It gives an end... or as they used to<br />
say... it gives matter a good... And what is that end, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?... Mmm?... What other<br />
end but the spiritual end... And what is the spiritual end, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?... Why, God! ... Of<br />
course it is God... Do you see now... Ah, Charlotte. how nice of you.<br />
I‘ve made some sandwiches... Dan?<br />
Yes, Charlotte. I am hungry... Will you eat with us, Reverend Clarke?<br />
Yes... Yes... of course... It is very kind of you, Charlotte... It is good when a<br />
pastor can share the ordinary rituals of life with his flock... Thank you... thank you...<br />
This is delicious.<br />
Dan?<br />
Thanks<br />
Paul, you said there was another... a second p<strong>ie</strong>ce of evidence.<br />
Yes. Oh yes, Charlotte... It is the esoteric knowledge... That which is called<br />
revelation...<br />
Take another sandwich, Reverend Clarke.<br />
Hh?... Oh yes... Thank you, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... Most kind... Mmm... Yes.<br />
Are you free on Wednesday morning, Reverend Clarke?<br />
Wednesday?... In the morning?<br />
We thought we would ask you to read the service for Misses Jameson... Isn‘t<br />
that right, Charlotte?<br />
Yes... On Wednesday morning.<br />
I will be very happy to do that little service for you, Charlotte... Dan<strong>ie</strong>l.<br />
Good... It will be at eleven... Dean‘s Grange... You know it, of course.<br />
Of course... Yes.<br />
Excellent... We look forward to seeing you there.<br />
Yes, Paul... And thank you.<br />
Oh Charlotte... If I could do more... The Spirit is willing... always... Please try<br />
to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that, Charlotte. It would help you so... The Spirit is always there.<br />
I‘ll show you out, Reverend Clarke.<br />
Yes, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... And thank you again, Charlotte. You are as considerate as<br />
always... The food was delicious... I give you peace.<br />
Thank you for coming. I‘m sure you have consoled Charlotte.<br />
If only that, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... By the way, I read your thesis, you know... In College.<br />
Did you? I didn‘t know you were interested in politics.<br />
Oh, when I learned that you were in my parish, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... You give a unique<br />
position to language, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... Was that intentional?<br />
150
How do you mean?<br />
I mean within what you called the nexus of politics and culture... You said...<br />
and correct me if I am wrong... that language was ultimately the source... yes,<br />
source... that is the word you used... of both culture and politics.<br />
In a sense. But it must be heavily qualif<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
In what way?<br />
In the thesis I also said that while it can be asserted that language was primary,<br />
this assertion cannot be proven.<br />
Yes. Yes. I remember that. Because language is absolute?<br />
I didn‘t use that word... I said that language cannot reflect on language.<br />
Yes... That‘s it, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... So precise... Do you know what I thought after<br />
reading your splendid work?<br />
What did you think, Reverend Clarke?<br />
That your definition of language was an excellent definition of the Logos... Of<br />
the Spirit, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l.<br />
Hhh.<br />
Yes, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. I have so wanted to make your acquaintance, you know... Your<br />
thesis made me think deeply... It is that sort of work, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... Thought provoking... I<br />
thought that with your guidance, I might develop your insight in its... mmh…<br />
theological implications.<br />
In the department of political sc<strong>ie</strong>nce?<br />
Oh no... Informally, I mean... I would do some work and you... if you were so<br />
kind... might look it over... you know... test it as it were.<br />
Test it for what? I‘m not a theologian, Reverend Clarke.<br />
Oh no... You misunderstand me... Perhaps this is not the time to discuss such<br />
a... practical matter... Your poor wife... Charlotte... But the secular aspect, as it were...<br />
That would be within your competence, wouldn‘t it?<br />
No doubt... But what if your theology was wrong, Reverend Clarke? There<br />
would be no point in looking at the... as you call it... secular aspect... Would there?<br />
No... I suppose not... But if I could assure you of the probity of the<br />
theological... ah... framework?<br />
Hhh!... Could you?<br />
Mhh?... Why, of course... It would be perfectly straightforward, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l...<br />
There are many authorit<strong>ie</strong>s, you know.<br />
Then why would you need the as you call it secular aspect? It would add<br />
nothing to the theology.<br />
Oh... Yes.<br />
Well, goodnight, Reverend Clarke. Thank you again for coming.<br />
Yes... Of course... But, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... an interpretation... In the light of modern<br />
knowledge... You know.<br />
Still can‘t see what it would add to Christian theology.<br />
No?<br />
Christian revelation is complete, isn‘t it?<br />
Yes... At least...<br />
There you are. What more do you need?... Goodnight.<br />
Goodnight, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. And... Goodnight..<br />
Why are you grinning in that wicked way, Dan? What have you done?<br />
Nothing, Lotty... The Reverend Clarke wants to theologise my thesis.<br />
Is there any harm in that, Dan? You should be flattered... Who else has taken<br />
an interest in it?<br />
151
That‘s not the point, Lotty.<br />
He does annoy you.<br />
How do you put up with it?<br />
He means well.<br />
Is that suffic<strong>ie</strong>nt?<br />
Under the circumstances, yes.<br />
But it devalues secular thought!<br />
And it devalues you?... I did find it a help, Dan. Give him credit for that.<br />
Very well, Lotty. I grant that... But there is the other side. The rhetoric might<br />
work, but only by emptying words of their meaning.<br />
But if I remember, Dan, you once said that all religious thought remains<br />
human thought and could be treated as that.<br />
Yes... But he acts as though he speaks under divine inspiration... And that is a<br />
colossal presumption. As far as I am concerned, he negates himself. It is<br />
conventionalised megalomania.<br />
Dan! Someone has to be able to talk about it... It does exist.<br />
You mean theology?<br />
No. Religious feeling... Even you have that.<br />
But expressing it so glibly, Lotty... That even devalues the feeling.<br />
Perhaps for you... You‘re equipped for it. But most people prefer what you<br />
call the glibness... And not just in religious matters. You‘ve said that often enough<br />
too.<br />
Mhhm... Very well, Lotty. But I‘d rather he didn‘t do it to me.<br />
Yes. I appreciate that... Why were you grinning?<br />
I managed to persuade him to go away and make sure of his theology first.<br />
That makes sense. What is so funny about that?<br />
Hhhm... It‘s circular... Don‘t you see? In clarifying it, he is going to use the<br />
secular material to test it. Instead of using theology as a skeleton to hang my thesis<br />
from, he will find himself using my thesis to test his bel<strong>ie</strong>fs... That‘s the only way to<br />
use secular knowledge. It treats dogmas as knowledge, not as revelation.<br />
You want to threaten his faith, Dan?<br />
Why not? What value has it if it is not under threat?<br />
But if you were the cause of Paul‘s loss of faith?<br />
That would merely demonstrate the weakness of his faith... He should know<br />
that.<br />
You call him arrogant, Dan! What you are doing is wrong.<br />
Why do you want him to keep his bel<strong>ie</strong>fs? Do you need to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that<br />
someone, at least, bel<strong>ie</strong>ves in God?... Well?<br />
I don‘t know... Suddenly... Dan, I‘m sorry I appear to go against you... It will<br />
always be your support that I‘ll want... But, Dan, try to understand... It does work... I<br />
don‘t know how. But it does... I know he is a rather pretentious young man in a<br />
clerical collar. He is an intellectual, as you call that type. His church is a handful of<br />
professional churchgoers... The articles of faith are a vapid syncretism, as you once<br />
said... But something works nonetheless.<br />
It helps you mourn?<br />
Yes, Dan... Don‘t you see? He could talk about death without embarrassment<br />
or fear... In the way a psychologist can deal with insanity...<br />
A social role?<br />
Yes... That‘s it...<br />
And my students bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me for much the same reason?<br />
152
Yes!<br />
What happens to the personal? The individual? I can allow that to the extent<br />
that the individual cannot cope with an exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, such as death... or God... that<br />
some social conventions could help. But is that true of all exper<strong>ie</strong>nces?<br />
Individuals might be powerless... As in politics.<br />
Yes. That is astute of you, Lotty.<br />
Children?<br />
You mean marriage.<br />
Yes.<br />
But not all parents are marr<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
I agree... Perhaps they can cope... Or else their understanding of what is<br />
involved is limited.<br />
Where is the individual in all this, Lotty?<br />
I don‘t know... Where is he... or she?<br />
Well, take language, for instance. Without speakers and listeners there is no<br />
language. Right? Yet language does seem to transcend any particular individual at any<br />
time. Even so, language cannot be located in actuality other than in individuals...<br />
Mmm?<br />
Put it this way, language is social, but it is instanced only in individuals.<br />
What does that imply?<br />
No soc<strong>ie</strong>ty without the individuals who make soc<strong>ie</strong>ty possible. Yet soc<strong>ie</strong>ty<br />
utterly transcends all its individual constituents at any moment.<br />
And?<br />
As with language, one cannot strictly speaking reflect upon soc<strong>ie</strong>ty... because<br />
soc<strong>ie</strong>ty is necessarily greater than you... No thought can get outside soc<strong>ie</strong>ty, no more<br />
than it can get outside language.<br />
They seem to be the same thing, Dan.<br />
In some says, yes.<br />
Interesting... Oh. I must feed Brian. He hasn‘t been fed for eight hours... where<br />
is he?<br />
In the kitchen.<br />
Of course... I remember... He was asleep when I went in to make those<br />
sandwiches... He‘s awake... Hello.<br />
Hello, old son.<br />
He is very pat<strong>ie</strong>nt.<br />
Who does he get that from?<br />
Not me... You<br />
Me?<br />
Of course... I‘ll take him upstairs, Dan... I want to rest and... well... brood, 1<br />
suppose.<br />
I‘ll come up soon... I‘ll read for a while.<br />
Good evening... My name is Richard Butler.<br />
Mister Butler. Yes. Your brother rang... This way... The weather has<br />
improved, hasn‘t it?<br />
Any change would be an improvement...<br />
153
Misses MacLane, Mister Butler. You‘re right. It‘s been a terrible summer...<br />
What is it like in London?<br />
Much the same, I‘m afraid.<br />
Here you are... I‘ve given you the room in the front. It‘s not noisy, and you‘11<br />
get the sun in the morning... I find it cheering... Your brother said you were staying<br />
for a week?<br />
At least that, Misses MacLane.<br />
Good... What time would you want your breakfast at?<br />
Nineish?<br />
Yes. That will be fine... You‘re the only guest, so you needn‘t rush in the<br />
morning.<br />
Thank you. I understand.<br />
You will want a key?... I‘ll leave one on the hallstand for you.<br />
Thank you.<br />
Monday Rathmines.<br />
Perhaps it is the weather, but there is a pervasive air of unreality about<br />
Dublin. I don‘t feel that because I‘ve just arrived. I‘ve landed in D.L. at other<br />
times and exper<strong>ie</strong>nced an overwhelming intimacy with the place.<br />
Coming in on the bus, when I closed my eyes I felt as though I was<br />
travelling utterly alone – even the bus seemed abstracted. Then I‘d open my<br />
eyes and see the lanes of cars and see the houses and the familiar sights of the<br />
Pigeon Rouse, the port and Howth head.<br />
Tonight I ate in a fast food place in Raths. There was green, red and<br />
white neon inside and out. The walls were tiled and they gleamed garishly.<br />
Nonstop pop music was much too loud. People — mostly young in the now<br />
fashionable grey zip jackets and grey cords. All grey. They talked, laughed —<br />
they took an interest in what they ordered — mexican, texan, burgers, pizzas,<br />
ice cream, salads, chips. Yet — the more intense the loud music, the flashing<br />
neon colour, the interaction of the people, the more unreal it was. It was<br />
impossible to imagine what the rest of the world might be like — yesterday‘s<br />
journey seemed to have been a fantasy — nor could I imagine these people in<br />
any other context: not at home, at work, angry, loving, stupid, or bright.<br />
Is that what it is? Does this youth find something wrong or lacking in<br />
what I would, at their age, have called the world? Or is their ‗world‘ very<br />
different?<br />
Dan?<br />
Yes... I thought you were asleep.<br />
Dozing... Are you coming in?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good.. .Dan?<br />
Mmm?<br />
Are we in danger?<br />
What?<br />
154
I mean after this afternoon... Fosters Avenue was searched. I‘m positive of<br />
that... Something to do with Tom Spencer.<br />
And the crash?<br />
Yes... What can we do?<br />
Hang on... See what happens.<br />
Is that all?<br />
For the moment... But don‘t worry. We‘re not directly involved.<br />
But mother, Dan... She might have been murdered,<br />
Yes... I know.<br />
We can‘t let them get away with that... The police.<br />
If anyone knows, they do, Lotty.<br />
What can we do?<br />
I don‘t know yet... Let‘s think about it... Ahhh... A busy day.<br />
Dan?<br />
Yes?<br />
Make love to me... Gently... As you did last week.<br />
Yes...<br />
It‘s strange, Dan, but mother doesn‘t seem quite so dead to me now.<br />
Oh... I‘m glad he helped, you know.<br />
Not that, Dan... She didn‘t d<strong>ie</strong> on me... Senselessly, I mean... Her life was<br />
taken from her.<br />
And that makes a difference?<br />
Yes, It does... Uhh... Oh... Dan...<br />
Sweetheart...<br />
Darling... Darling...<br />
TUESDAY<br />
Good morning, Mister Butler.<br />
Good morning, Misses MacLane.<br />
The weather has improved... Do you want a full breakfast?<br />
Yes... It‘s still very windy.<br />
It‘s been like that since June... Will you sit here... Yes... And help yourself to<br />
cereal.<br />
Mrs MacLane: black hair, neatly curled, not permed — she puts curlers<br />
in at night — a public image: grey eyes — not so public: open but not frank;<br />
watchful but not nosey — defensive: full figured but repressed by her clothes:<br />
her legs are as slim as a girl‘s: the girl who brought the rest of the breakfast in<br />
was a younger version of her, with the same balanced carefulness; watchful —<br />
curious about me but not the slightest bit forward: heard at least two other<br />
155
children downstairs: the girl who served me about sixteen or seventeen; others<br />
younger: So Mrs MacLane has at least three children — yet she behaves as<br />
though she is a virgin: which she is in a way: inside her maternal body there is<br />
an innocent child who has never had the opportunity to develop: womanhood<br />
has been imposed on her by social convention; but the tragedy is not this, but<br />
that if she had been given the freedom to develop herself, she would not have<br />
known how — she could never recognise her freedom: she would see it only<br />
as a blank, a void: no doubt she has seen this, and has pulled back into the<br />
security of convention.<br />
You‘re awake. I‘ve brought you some tea and toast. What time is it?<br />
Half ten... I‘m going to do some work.<br />
A good idea... What have you arranged about mother?<br />
Oh, I didn‘t tell you... I rang Hamilton‘s...<br />
Good... I wasn‘t sure if you knew who to ring... Not that it matters.<br />
Well, they will bring your mother‘s body down from Sligo today... The funeral<br />
will be tomorrow morning.<br />
Yes.<br />
We can go to their mortuary this evening... After six... Will we?<br />
We ought to, Dan... We should pay our respects.<br />
I thought so.<br />
It‘s a formality, I know... But it seems to help... That‘s mourning.<br />
There will be no one else there... Oh, I put a notice in the Irish Times. It<br />
should be in this morning‘s edition. I said no flowers and that the funeral would be<br />
private... I think that is best.<br />
Yes. It is... Mother didn‘t have any close fr<strong>ie</strong>nds that I know of.<br />
How do you feel?<br />
Oh, fine, Dan... I‘m getting used to the fact.<br />
Good... You are handling it well.<br />
And you?<br />
It‘s a bit unfocused... You know what I mean... There seems to be more to it<br />
than your mother‘s death.<br />
You mean the cause? Yes, Do you think you ought to ring that guard?... Ask<br />
him about it?<br />
I don‘t think so, Lotty. I don‘t want to have him nosing around... If there is<br />
something in it, then the police will follow it up... Rest if you want to... There will be<br />
nothing to do until this evening.<br />
I will... Thanks for this... Oh, Dan!<br />
What is it?<br />
You should ring Tony Hackett... He should have news for you.<br />
It‘s hardly important at the moment, Lotty.<br />
But it is, Dan... You went to the trouble of asking him to do it... You should<br />
ring him now.<br />
He may not be back yet.<br />
Try anyway…<br />
156
Partment of the Envirnmont,<br />
May I speak to Anthony Hackett please.<br />
Hold on... Hello?<br />
Yes.<br />
Mister Hackett is not available,<br />
Oh, do you know where he is? Has he come back?<br />
I don‘t know, Hold on... Hello?<br />
Yes.<br />
He‘s not available... That‘s all I know,<br />
Okay... thanks anyway...<br />
Goodbye.<br />
Bewley‘s: they‘ve moved the serving area, which has improved the<br />
room: this used to be a kind of seedy backroom — I suppose because it was<br />
(still is) exposed to the noise of the buses in Fleet Street: but I thought it had<br />
the most character — now the wood carving is all of a unit; the room has been<br />
painted and better lit.<br />
Crowd much the same — two middle aged women, finding a free table<br />
in an otherwise crowded room, said ‗They must have known we were<br />
coming,‘ — There is so much in that: seen from the outside, people exhibit,<br />
even in the most ordinary circumstances, so much faith, trust, naiveté: I realise<br />
that anything could happen to anyone at any moment —and yet things go on<br />
in, on the large scale, an orderly manner. Think of Dublin just now — a<br />
million people — the whole entity does cohere, despite the feelings etc of its<br />
individual inhabitants. (Reminds me: that morning after the Christmas holiday<br />
— in London — I was struck by the fact that about nine millions got up and<br />
started the same old routine —and wondered if it was possible for people to go<br />
so far away from the ordinary routines as to forget/or not want or care to pick<br />
them up when that cold morning came. Obviously not. Perhaps there is no<br />
where else to go — the people here are immersed in what they are doing —<br />
after their coffee they will return to their work or go shopping, without<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>ncing any great wrench between the momentary release and<br />
intoxication of caffeine and the brute resistance of their ordinary tasks. There<br />
must be a profound trust or faith in each individual which bridges the gap<br />
between release and labour. And it‘s not simply a faith in God or anything as<br />
explicit as that — it is at the level of exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, not of thought or awareness.<br />
That Frege should say that a thought is grasped as discovery and not as<br />
creation follows on what he has said about the objectivity of thought. But to<br />
say that a thought is already ordered in its parts seems to raise once again the<br />
problem of relationship, that is, the problem of the one and the many, of<br />
sameness and difference.<br />
But here, at the level of the analysis of thought, F has changed<br />
perspective. In order to undertake a logical analysis of thought, he perceives it<br />
in two ways:<br />
157
1. as an object<br />
2. as semantic form.<br />
Frege holds, against the theory that knowledge is gained by ostension,<br />
that sensibility in not necessary for knowledge of objects. For F, the thought<br />
itself is the paradigmatic object. Thus to say that the thought is trite and<br />
objective is to say that the thought is the object. Access to thought is<br />
simultaneously access to objects.<br />
This v<strong>ie</strong>w accords with what F has said about thought in the context<br />
of‘ Reason. But it is clear that ‗objectivity‘ and ‗object‘ are distinct terms. The<br />
objectivity of the thought does not reside in the fact that the thought is an<br />
object. Instead, what is said of the thought appl<strong>ie</strong>s also to the object, that it is<br />
true and objective. This ‗object‘ is another metaphor, along with ‗thought‘,<br />
‗truth‘, and ‗objectivity‘.<br />
In this case, it is obvious that the equation of ‗thought‘ and ‗object‘ is<br />
not open to analysis, for the same reasons that ‗thought‘, ‗truth‘ and<br />
‗objectivity‘ were not open to analysis. All that can be said is that whatever is<br />
referred to by these metaphorical terms is present — in F‘s account, present to<br />
Reason.<br />
However, Frege says more about ‗object‘ than he does about the other<br />
metaphors. He says that an expression ‗standing for‘ an object is a ‗proper<br />
name‘. Now, to the extent that an expression ‗standing for‘ an object is not the<br />
same as equating ‗thought‘ and ‗object‘, it would seem that Frege is here<br />
talking about a different kind of object, something connected more with actual<br />
objects than with objectivity and truth of the thought/ object.<br />
It might be argued in F‘s defence that Frege is here taking up the<br />
question of the ‗object‘ at another level. That is, that the equation of thought<br />
and object is an epistemological matter, while the relation of ‗standing for‘<br />
between an expression and an object is a matter of logical analysis. But this,<br />
though it is a plausible contention, merely begs the question, What connection<br />
is there between the epistemological argument and the logical one? Frege<br />
nowhere describes such a connection; moreover, strictly speaking such a<br />
connection is impossible, for the epistemological argument is a self-referring<br />
abstraction: knowledge is discovered in thought, and thought is only true and<br />
objective and present in or to Reason. The logical analysis is not concerned<br />
with the question of knowledge, only with the characteristics of that<br />
knowledge as it is ‗grasped‘ by individual minds.<br />
For this reason, it is clear that the question of the connection between<br />
the objects for which expressions stand and the objects that are equated with<br />
thoughts must be explained unilaterally. More, it must be explained at the<br />
level of logical analysis; indeed, as is obvious, it can be explained only at this<br />
level.<br />
What does Frege mean by ‗logic‘? He writes: ‗...the word ―true‖ seems<br />
to make possible the impossible, namely, to make that which corresponds to<br />
the assertive force appear to be contributing to the thought. And this attempt,<br />
though it fails —or, mere correctly, because it fails — points to what is<br />
peculiar to logic.‘<br />
What is peculiar to logic? That it is an assertion which, while it<br />
indicates the fundamental nature of thought — its truth (and hence objectivity)<br />
— at the same time it has no connection with thought, that is, it adds nothing<br />
to the thought. It is clear that this logic tells us nothing about the truthfulness<br />
158
of the thought — it cannot, for the thought is true because it is a thought. Nor<br />
does it analyse the thought, for the parts of the thought are already ordered.<br />
This means that the object of logic is not thought itself.<br />
Instead, logic is an assertion: it asserts something which corresponds to<br />
the word ‗true‘. But, as has been seen in part (I) above, a judgement is also an<br />
assertion. Judgement asserts that the true is independent of our recognition of<br />
the true. Thus logic and judgement are two sides of the same coin. Both are<br />
concerned with the parallel between the recognition of the truth of the thought<br />
and the independence of thought from that recognition. Judgement is grounded<br />
in this distinction; it makes judgement both possible and necessary. At the<br />
same time, it is the ground of the failure of logic: it at once demonstrates the<br />
limitations of logic and reveals its peculiar power — its capacity to assert the<br />
truth independently of the thought itself. Thus logic is the capacity of<br />
individual human beings to ‗witness‘ the truth of thought, and judgement is<br />
the concomitant capacity to be aware of the objectivity of thought. If these<br />
characteristics are true, then the relation between logic and judgement is<br />
similar to the relation which holds between truth and objectivity — they are<br />
metaphorical descriptions of one human capacity. This capacity can be<br />
generally termed the ability to respond to the presence of thought. That is, it is<br />
the point at which individual minds connect with Mind or Reason.<br />
But more particularly, it can be said that logic and judgement are the<br />
same thing: thus logic is the process of judgement—making, while judgement<br />
is an instance of logical activity.<br />
However, though logic-judgement is a purely human capacity to assert<br />
the truth of the thought independently of that thought, it would appear to<br />
possess the characteristics of thought. According to Frege, it is the notion of<br />
truth which distinguishes logic from psychology. So, to the extent that logical<br />
assertion is true, it must also be objective. Specifically, Frege says that logic<br />
deals with truth by means of laws of right inference, laws which are<br />
independent of our recognition of them. That is, the laws of logic are true and<br />
objective in precisely the same way that thought is. Thus it seems that ‗logic‘<br />
is little more than another metaphor for thought, as ‗objectivity‘, ‗truth‘ and<br />
‗object‘ are. But logic has one feature which saves it from such an<br />
identification: it is the peculiarity of logic that it fails at a crucial point —<br />
logical assertion contributes nothing to the thought, even though it is about the<br />
thought.<br />
Now, it is noteworthy that while logic possesses the characteristics of<br />
thought, Frege can point to an indubitable human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce concerning logic,<br />
one which is self-evident. Broadly, for a statement to be judged true, it need<br />
not contain the word ‗true‘, nor will it require the addition of the word ‗true‘ in<br />
order to make it true. This means that logic both possesses characteristics<br />
which identify it with thought, specifically ‗truth‘, and at the same time is<br />
distinct from it, a distinction which appears in the failure of logic.<br />
This dual nature of logic is formally analogous with the dual nature of<br />
‗object‘ indicated above. On one hand, ‗object‘ is identical with ‗thought‘, but<br />
on the other hand, it is also what an expression ‗stands for‘. Does Frege<br />
indicate an element of failure or inadequacy here too? This question can be<br />
investigated in two ways:<br />
1. The same object is being referred to.<br />
2. At least two objects are involved.<br />
159
If the same object is being referred to, then it is appearing in different<br />
ways, epistemologically and logically. But to the extent that ‗object‘ is<br />
identical with thought, it is not amenable to logical analysis. If it is amenable<br />
to logical analysis, then it is not identical with thought. But Frege does say that<br />
the thought is the paradigmatic object. Therefore, the ‗object‘ must relate to<br />
logic in the same way that logic relates to thought, in a duality of selfreference,<br />
as true etc, and as an indubitable human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of failure.<br />
Now, the exceptional — exceptional in comparison with thought, truth<br />
and objectivity — feature of ‗object‘ is that an expression ‗stands for‘ the<br />
object. Further, an expression standing for the object in this way is a ‗proper<br />
name‘. Therefore, the exceptional feature of ‗object‘ is that it can be instanced<br />
in human language, for clearly an expression which is a ‗proper name‘ is a<br />
linguistic expression, not a gesture or symbolic representation. This means that<br />
if ‗object‘ appears in a ‗mode of failure‘ it does so in the context of human<br />
language.<br />
Is human language a ‗mode of failure‘? According to Frege it is. For<br />
him, the very existence of logic, and its power to assert a truth distinct from<br />
thought, arises because of the inadequacy of human language. If a perfectly<br />
logical language were possible, Frege continues,<br />
Sergeant Sheehy.<br />
Doctor White, Hello, I‘m sorry to intrude on you again... Can I speak to you?<br />
Oh... Yes. Come in... In here... I‘ll call my wife.<br />
No!... No, Doctor White... Don‘t disturb her. It‘s a difficult time, God knows...<br />
Would you like to sit?<br />
No... I won‘t be a moment... You visited Missus Jameson‘s house in Mount<br />
Merrion yesterday.<br />
Yes.<br />
And you took some items away with you?<br />
Yes... The house is unoccup<strong>ie</strong>d, as you know. I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve Misses Jameson‘s<br />
death... and Mister Spencer‘s of course... were broadcast on the radio... I thought the<br />
house might be burgled.<br />
Ah yes... That was sharp thinking of you, Doctor White.<br />
We took the moveable valuables... Television... stereo... the silver... Money,<br />
jewellery... and her private papers.<br />
Yes.<br />
I intend giving Misses Jameson‘s solicitor an inventory... and inviting him to<br />
check personally.<br />
Yes... Yes. That‘s a good precaution, Doctor White... But I expect your wife...<br />
She is the sole heir?<br />
I think so. But even so, you know,<br />
Keep it legal? Yes... I understand that... By the way...<br />
Do you want to see what we took, Sergeant?<br />
Oh no... No... I thought you might have seen... anything unusual?<br />
The house has been searched, is that what you mean?<br />
Good God no.<br />
160
It was anyway... Why?<br />
You‘re sure?<br />
Almost certain, One of the searchers... at least... smoked.<br />
Yes... Then... I expect it was part of the enquiry... . Not Missus Jameson...<br />
No... Mister Spencer.<br />
Why?<br />
Oh, I expect they were following a line of enquiry, Doctor White... It‘s done<br />
sometimes,<br />
Obviously nothing was found.<br />
I can‘t say, Doctor White.<br />
Mmm... Why did you tell me that the ar you cee had logged the time they<br />
crossed the Border, Sergeant?<br />
Ah...<br />
It wasn‘t necessary, you know... Why did you put it that way?<br />
There was no special reason, Doctor White... That was part of the report.<br />
I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you, Sergeant.<br />
Have it your own way, Doctor.<br />
Why have you come today?... Mmmm?...<br />
To see why you went to Missus Jameson‘s house... But what you did was<br />
right, Doctor... Legal.<br />
No, Sergeant... You wanted to see my response to something... You suspect<br />
I‘m part of Mister Spencer‘s game, don‘t you?<br />
Game, Doctor White? What sort of game?<br />
How did the accident happen?<br />
The report said the car ran off the road at high speed... It went on fire.<br />
You didn‘t tell me that on Saturday.<br />
I thought it might upset your wife... Unnecessarily, I mean.<br />
That was considerate, Sergeant. Thank you... But why did it run off the road?<br />
They think a burst tyre, Doctor... He was driving too fast for that road... I‘d<br />
say he was a fast driver anyway.<br />
He was... But he wasn‘t a careless driver, Sergeant... Tell me frankly, were<br />
they murdered?<br />
Doctor... There‘s no evidence for that, Don‘t go speculating like that... There‘s<br />
just no evidence,<br />
But you think Spencer was up to something... Was he some kind of spy?<br />
I doubt it... Look, Doctor, I‘ll tell you this in confidence... to stop you<br />
worrying... My section investigates any unusual incident in the Border area... just in<br />
case... We must check on everything.<br />
So you have no reason to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve Spencer was spying or anything?<br />
No... Our enquir<strong>ie</strong>s are almost finished.<br />
Then why did the ar you cee escort him to the Border, Sergeant?... Look,<br />
Sergeant, this is getting paranoid. You told me about the ar you cee to alert me to<br />
something... that is, if I was part of Spencer‘s game... Now Spencer got an escort to<br />
the Border, but he get no escort in the South, That suggests that while the northern<br />
police had an interest in him, the southern police had not... I think the eye ar aye or<br />
some group like that caused that accident. They either followed him over the border,<br />
knowing that he would not be protected, or else they lay in wait for him on that read...<br />
What do you say to that?... Why I say all this is because I am annoyed that my wife‘s<br />
mother should d<strong>ie</strong> so needlessly... It has upset my wife very deeply... You can<br />
appreciate that, Sergeant.<br />
161
Yes... Well... It‘s a fine theory, Doctor White. But there‘s no evidence... We<br />
asked the err you cee if they knew when the car crossed the Border and they gave us a<br />
time. It‘s about what we reckoned, they could have made it up in the same way. Or<br />
they could have logged it during a random check, or because it was a distinctive car or<br />
because it had Dublin plates... But there is no evidence that they escorted the car to<br />
the Border...<br />
Are you sure, Sergeant? The ar you cee...<br />
No. We can‘t ask them, Doctor White... Look, I did call here to see how you‘d<br />
react to the question about visiting Missus Jameson‘s house. You were quick to guess<br />
that, I can tell you that your reaction satisf<strong>ie</strong>d me... There... That‘s the end of our<br />
enquir<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
But the crash, Sergeant...<br />
There‘s no evidence, Doctor... None whatsoever... I know how you feel. But<br />
there‘s no one to blame.<br />
Yes, I see what you mean.<br />
Good... I‘ll go now, I won‘t be bothering you again... I‘m sorry for the two or<br />
you. I know how the two of you feel. Neither of you have parents now...<br />
You checked on me, Sergeant?<br />
Yes. We have to check everything, Doctor. But it‘s no harm. Don‘t worry...<br />
I‘ll go now,<br />
I‘ll show you out,<br />
Yes... And don‘t go thinking like that, Doctor White, You‘ll have nothing to<br />
show for it except... Oh... Missus White... I‘ll go... Goodbye, Missus White. My<br />
condolences again... Goodbye, Doctor. Sorry to be such a nuisance.<br />
Goodbye, Sergeant.<br />
Goodbye, Sergeant.<br />
What did he want?<br />
He wanted to know why we went ever to Fosters Avenue. I told him. He<br />
seemed satisf<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
He looked upset, Dan.<br />
Yes, he‘s a surprisingly soft man for a policemen... I asked him about the<br />
crash again.<br />
And?<br />
They have no evidence... I think he told the truth, Lotty.<br />
But it could still be true? I mean they could well have been murdered.<br />
Be said that there was no point in thinking like that... I think he is right,<br />
Lotty... Oh, Lotty.<br />
Dan... Dan... It seems to get worse every time it comes back... I feel so<br />
helpless.<br />
Oh Lotty, it doesn‘t make any difference... The fact remains.<br />
But it didn‘t seem so bad.<br />
I know... But you will have to face the fact.<br />
Oh, you can talk... Dan, it‘s so hard!<br />
I know... Oh Lotty... Try to face it... please.<br />
I do try, Dan... In the middle of the night... while I‘m feeding Brian... I look at<br />
it and look at it...<br />
Oh, here... Sweetheart, oh, sweetheart... Yes. Do cry...<br />
Oh, oh, Dan... Oh, Dan... Oh, Dan! It‘s so awful!<br />
There now, sweetheart... there now... Give it time.<br />
162
Snff!... Yes... I do... But sometimes, Dan... It just overwhelms me... I‘m<br />
sorry...<br />
No... It‘s alright.<br />
I‘m such a drain on you.<br />
It can‘t be helped.<br />
I‘ll go back upstairs... Let you get on with your notes.<br />
Oh, that‘s just to pass the time, Lotty... Stay down here if you want.<br />
No... I‘ll go up and rest... You carry on here... Call me at six, won‘t you?<br />
Yes... And try to sleep, Lotty.<br />
Yes, Dan... I will.<br />
these semantic considerations would he unnecessary. As it is, in<br />
utterances of ordinary human language a distinction must be made between<br />
the psychological intentions and associations of the speaker and listener, and<br />
the actual objective content of the utterance itself: what F sees as a distinction<br />
between the ‗illumination‘ surrounding a word or sentence, and the<br />
‗colouring‘ it possesses for the speaker and the listener as subjective,<br />
associative psychological features which have no place in a language of pure<br />
thought.<br />
Oh damn, damn, damn!<br />
Hello, mother.<br />
Dick!... Jim told me you were in Dublin, I was talking to him on the phone last<br />
night... How are you? You look well.<br />
No complaints... Come in here, Dick... Isn‘t the sun lovely?... Is it as bad in<br />
London?<br />
Very nearly.<br />
And it‘s so hard to get out there.<br />
I look pale?<br />
You always do, Dick. You should try to got out in the air every day... Jim says<br />
you live beside the Downs, near the racecourse. You should go out there every<br />
morning.<br />
I go out at the weekends, mother. You should come over. You‘d like it. There<br />
are footpaths through the countryside in every direction.<br />
So Jim told me... Have you had lunch?<br />
I had an Irish breakfast. You know, bacon, sausage and the rest.<br />
You‘re staying in a guesthouse?<br />
Yes.<br />
You could stay here, Dick.<br />
No. I‘d rather stay there. It‘s only a short visit.<br />
163
What are you doing now? Are you still writing?<br />
Yes. I‘ve just finished another novel.<br />
Jim said that no one would take the last one.<br />
It‘s too long, mother.<br />
You should know what they want by now... Will you have a salad? The<br />
tomatoes are beautiful this summer.<br />
Okay. Let me help. I‘ll lay the table...<br />
Did Jim tell you they were expecting another child?<br />
Yes, He seems very happy about it.<br />
They‘re going to have four. Anne wants four.<br />
It‘s good that the children are wanted.<br />
You should have marr<strong>ie</strong>d, Dick... Jim is very happy.<br />
It‘s what he wants, mother.<br />
And what do you want? You never seemed to know.<br />
To write... Isn‘t that enough?<br />
But it‘s so lonely... I know you have that girl living with you, Dick. But it‘s<br />
not the same thing. You can‘t settle to that.<br />
I don‘t want to settle to it, mother. It suits us well enough as it is.<br />
Doesn‘t she want to marry?<br />
She hasn‘t said so, mother.<br />
And would you?<br />
I haven‘t had to think about it.<br />
Sit down now... I‘ll make tea... Take some beetroot... You‘re so rootless, Dick.<br />
I don‘t know where you get that from.<br />
I‘m not that rootless, mother. I lived in Streatham for seven years. I‘ve been in<br />
Epsom now for over two years. Jim has changed houses as much.<br />
That was because of the children... No. You are not settled.<br />
Oh mother, I don‘t want to settle, as you call it.<br />
Hhhssh.<br />
What about yourself? ... You‘ve had the house decorated<br />
Yes. Peggy‘s husband got someone to do it. He did a good job. Especially on<br />
the outside. He repaired all the putty in the windows.<br />
You don‘t find the house too big now, do you?<br />
I don‘t use most of the rooms. But the house is old, Dick. In a few years time<br />
it will need another overhaul.<br />
Yes. Perhaps you should sell it and buy a smaller house. A bungalow.<br />
I keep saying I‘ll do that.<br />
You‘ve said it for years... Ever since I was ten.<br />
And you wouldn‘t move. Do you remember that? And your father didn‘t want<br />
to move either. He said it was close to town.<br />
Would you move now? Jim should know some estate agent. You could<br />
arrange for him to get you a smaller house as well as selling this one.<br />
I‘ll think about it.<br />
Do you still do the yoga?<br />
A little. They do the exercises to music now. Some of the women are so<br />
clumsy. No rhythm at all.<br />
You enjoy it?<br />
Yes<br />
You do look fit.<br />
I do it twice a week... Do you want another tomato?<br />
164
No. They are nice, as you say... No. I‘ll get the teapot... How is Bob? Do you<br />
still see him?<br />
Yes. We go out about twice a week. Sometimes we go for a drive on<br />
Sundays... No. I‘m not going to marry him, Dick. He‘s a good fr<strong>ie</strong>nd, that‘s all. I want<br />
no one else to take your father‘s place.<br />
That‘s fair enough, mother. I was curious.<br />
I‘m not lonely, if that‘s what you‘re thinking.<br />
And neither am I...<br />
What‘s the novel about?<br />
It‘s set in anc<strong>ie</strong>nt Ireland. it‘s about an invasion.<br />
You mean the Normans?<br />
No. Earl<strong>ie</strong>r than that. It‘s only known about from legend.<br />
You write such funny stor<strong>ie</strong>s, Dick. You have a good imagination... Why<br />
don‘t you write about Dublin?<br />
Because I have nothing to write about Dublin, mother. Anyway, the last time I<br />
showed you stor<strong>ie</strong>s set in Dublin, you said you didn‘t enjoy them because you felt you<br />
knew everything about them already.<br />
I mean something imaginative.<br />
A romance?<br />
You‘re not romantic, Dick.<br />
Exciting then? About the eye ar aye?<br />
No. Not political. Don‘t write anything political, Dick... No one likes that sort<br />
of thing. It‘s too dangerous.<br />
Well then, what‘s wrong with anc<strong>ie</strong>nt Ireland?<br />
It‘s not that, Dick. It‘s the way you write. You don‘t allow the reader to settle<br />
down.<br />
Yes... That‘s because there‘s nothing to settle down to, mother.<br />
Is that what you bel<strong>ie</strong>ve, Dick? Is it the atom bomb? You used to talk about<br />
that.<br />
Not that. But a lot of people move about. They always have... I like moving<br />
about.<br />
You must be easily bored then.<br />
Actually, I think that is it, mother. Boredom.<br />
You have too many things, Dick. Not just you. Your generation... I was<br />
always afraid for you... and for Jim. It was more complicated for you. Jim found his<br />
way through it... But God help this new generation. It‘s even worse for them. They‘re<br />
being turned into adults before they are ten. They‘ll have nothing at all to hold on to.<br />
I know what you mean.<br />
We had fewer things, Dick. And simpler bel<strong>ie</strong>fs. Family. Providing for the<br />
children. The cinema once a week. A party on a birthday. We had private lives... Now<br />
the whole world pours into everyone‘s home every night of the week. What do<br />
ordinary people want with the whole world like that?<br />
I knew a woman in Donegal. When they got television for the first tine, she<br />
looked at it for one night. Then she said that it was like the yo-yo... it fooled the<br />
world... She never watched it again.<br />
What did she do instead?<br />
Sing to herself and look at the wall ... I assume that‘s what she did before the<br />
television came... No... She once said that no one came raking any more... Apparently<br />
they would visit one another‘s houses and talk for hours... She looked at the wall<br />
because she was bored... She sang because she was bored.<br />
165
What do you do in the evenings, Dick?<br />
Watch television. Sometimes we go out. But I usually read at the same time...<br />
Ang<strong>ie</strong> talks if she gets the opportunity.<br />
That doesn‘t bore you?<br />
No. Not if I have done something satisfying during the day.<br />
That‘s strange, Dick...<br />
What is?<br />
I never thought of you as living such a qu<strong>ie</strong>t life... You write about such...<br />
No... What you write is so unsettling... How you tell your stor<strong>ie</strong>s... They give the<br />
impression that you are restless... Almost.<br />
Almost what?<br />
It‘s hard to find the right word, Dick.<br />
Yes... isn‘t it?<br />
How do you mean?... You do know what I‘m talking about, don‘t you?<br />
Yes.<br />
How do you describe it?<br />
To find the right word you would have to enter the world I describe.<br />
Yes!<br />
That has always been my intention, mother.<br />
No wonder they won‘t publish your work, Dick.<br />
Oh no... That‘s not the reason, mother... It was too long. I knew that myself.<br />
But that‘s how it came out... The first novel was accepted without much trouble.<br />
But that was a straight-forward story.<br />
Yes... But in fact it is also in some ways the most potent<br />
Why?<br />
How it came to be written.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
I wrote a number of short stor<strong>ie</strong>s over a period of about five years. Then about<br />
a year after I had finished them... and I was aware that I had finished them... as a<br />
cycle... I suddenly got the idea of rearranging them in chronological order of the main<br />
character‘s life. That order was completely different to the order in which I had<br />
written them... They fitted together perfectly... I analysed that... I couldn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it...<br />
But the thematic development was there... I learned so many new things from that<br />
analysis... You see, mother. I couldn‘t write the story out in full... Either I hadn‘t the<br />
confidence or the nerve. So it was written in a fragmentary way, so I wouldn‘t have to<br />
face the true meaning of all those stor<strong>ie</strong>s as a whole.<br />
What is the true meaning, Dick?... I read the book.<br />
I know... Two things, mother. Do you remember how you reacted to the first<br />
parts? I had brought the book over to you... You were scornful because everything in<br />
them seemed so familiar. But I pointed out that you had never exper<strong>ie</strong>nced those<br />
familiar things in that order until you read them in my work.<br />
Yes. I remember.<br />
You suddenly realised that I had created another world out of those familiar<br />
things. Yes?<br />
Yes.<br />
You got an awful jolt.<br />
I remember.<br />
You suddenly understood what creativity is. So many people think it is a way<br />
of describing a common world... The English do... But you suddenly saw that it<br />
actually creates another world... A new world.<br />
166
Yes.<br />
But I didn‘t know that either, mother... I mean while I wrote the stor<strong>ie</strong>s. But<br />
when I put them together I saw that new world. Not at first... The analysis forced me<br />
to see it... And then to see that I had put myself in that world.<br />
You?<br />
Yes, mother... Creativity creates a new world for somebody... Most of all for<br />
the writer... And for the reader, but only to the extent that the reader allows himself or<br />
herself to actually enter that world.. .That‘s the other meaning, mother... I created a<br />
new world and I found that it was my world... You don‘t like that world, sure you<br />
don‘t?<br />
No, Dick... But I told you that after I read the book... It‘s so...<br />
Yes?<br />
No…You‘re right, Dick. I can‘t say what it is... Can you?<br />
Yes... But you won‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it... It‘s a free world.<br />
Free? What do you mean?<br />
I set out to discover my world... Not many do that, mother... I‘m not<br />
boasting... It‘s because it‘s my world that it is free... No, I didn‘t choose it... That‘s<br />
not freedom... I discovered it... as the truth... It‘s free because it is true... That‘s why<br />
it‘s not simply chosen... The choice... the decision is made at the beginning. After that<br />
there is no choice... No freedom of choice... only the search for the truth I choose to<br />
seek.<br />
And what is the truth, Dick?<br />
Don‘t be annoyed with me, mother. I‘m not boasting... The truth is a particular<br />
truth, mother... This truth is me... That‘s all... me... Richard Butler... Everyone...<br />
obviously... has such a truth... But not everyone seeks it.<br />
But what is the truth, Dick?<br />
That I am free.<br />
Hardly... You‘re no better off than I am.<br />
No. Not that... What is it you most disliked about the novel? At the end?<br />
The coldness... That horrible loneliness, Dick... I told you then.<br />
That‘s the truth, mother... That‘s freedom. You can never escape yourself.<br />
Why do you think like that, Dick? You were happy as a child. Everyone<br />
remarked what a close family we were. How could you become so lonely after that?<br />
Family is only one part of childhood, mother... Anyway, a child is never just a<br />
child of someone... I wasn‘t just your eldest son, mother. I was also me.<br />
But you were happy, Dick.<br />
Yes, Very happy... But I could also be unhappy then.<br />
Yes... Yes,<br />
You knew that?<br />
Yes I did... It used to make me afraid for you. Sometimes I wondered what we<br />
had done... Having you and Jim... Is that why you have never marr<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
Children?... Yes, They are an impossible responsibility. But it‘s not<br />
fundamental... We probably do worse things every day.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
Eating, for instance... In order that we live, we must kill other things... Not just<br />
animals... Plants... like the tomatoes, for instance, I‘ve just destroyed the freedom of<br />
two tomatoes so I can sustain my own freedom,<br />
We have to live, Dick,<br />
Have to?<br />
We have to survive... Don‘t deny that now,<br />
167
But always at a price, mother, Every day... I had better go now... Oh, can I use<br />
the phone?<br />
Of course.<br />
I‘m sorry, mother. Don‘t take it too much to heart... I should not have talked<br />
so much about it, I didn‘t mean to.<br />
I don‘t know what to make of it... Or of you. I feel angry... I resent that you<br />
think you can talk like that, It‘s arrogant... But you make me think.<br />
Perhaps that is the heav<strong>ie</strong>st responsibility, mother, We cause each other to<br />
think... I‘ll be back in a minute...<br />
Yes?<br />
Tony?<br />
Dick!<br />
You recognised my voice?<br />
Of course... You timed it well, I‘ve just walked in the door... Why did you ring<br />
me here and not at the office?<br />
Just did... You were away for the weekend?<br />
Yes, Down in Renvyle.<br />
Nice?<br />
Okay. The weather was pretty messy... when did you come over?<br />
Sunday.<br />
Dun Laoghaire Sunday night?<br />
Of course.<br />
Are you staying at home<br />
No. But I‘m ringing from there.<br />
Give your mother my regards... How is she?<br />
Very well... And yours?<br />
Same as ever... There‘s a new archbishop.<br />
Oh leave her alone, Tony. It‘s harmless... How is your father?<br />
Same as usual... He‘s gone into computers, They wired his department up last<br />
spring. Now he creams off every time his terminal gives him an answer, he thinks it‘s<br />
sc<strong>ie</strong>nce‘s answer to the Summae.<br />
Hah... And what about you?<br />
Me? As per usual... Sucking for promotion. What else?<br />
You sound happy enough, anyway.<br />
What about you? Hit the jackpot yet?<br />
Don‘t think so...<br />
Anything new?<br />
Yes, It‘s with a publisher, haven‘t heard yet.<br />
Good, You‘re still doing it... Let‘s have a drink tonight. I want to hear about it.<br />
Okay. Where?<br />
Where are you staying?<br />
Rathmines.<br />
Good. MacCluskey‘s. Do you know it? In Donnybrook.<br />
Yes.<br />
About half eightish?<br />
168
Okay... Oh, listen. I thought I‘d take a walk in Wicklow later in the week. Can<br />
I borrow your gear?<br />
Sure. What have you got?<br />
Shoes. But I don‘t think they will do.<br />
No. They won‘t, I was up on Garraun on Monday. Very wet, I‘ll give you the<br />
boots. Did you bring a pack?<br />
Yes. Can I have that big parka? The green one. I don‘t think the one I brought<br />
will be any good in this weather.<br />
Sure, I‘ll bring them down tonight. About half eight?<br />
Yes. See you.<br />
Bye.<br />
Was that Tony Hackett?<br />
Yes.<br />
How is he?<br />
He sounds very well. He was down in the West for the weekend... He sends<br />
his regards.<br />
How is his sister?<br />
Catherine? I didn‘t ask... She‘s in the States now.<br />
I know, I‘m glad she has settled down... She was very wild.<br />
Thanks for the phone... I‘ll go on... I‘ll come and see you later in the week.<br />
Not on Thursday, Dick.<br />
Okay... It‘s nice to see you, mother.<br />
And you... You do seem to thrive on whatever it is you‘re doing, Dick.<br />
I‘m glad you think so, mother,<br />
You seem to know what you‘re doing.<br />
I hope so... Goodbye.<br />
Goodbye. Take care,<br />
Dan? It‘s Tony.<br />
Hello... I rang your office this morning.<br />
I got back an hour ago. The journey took longer than I expected. The whole<br />
country is a sodden mess... Dan, I heard about Charley‘s mother on the radio. What<br />
happened?<br />
They were on their way to somewhere in Galway.<br />
In County Leitrim?<br />
Her boyfr<strong>ie</strong>nd had some last-minute business in the North, They were driving<br />
across from that when the accident happened.<br />
How did it happen?<br />
Apparently the car ran off the road at high speed.<br />
Just like that?<br />
Apparently so.<br />
God, Dan. It must be an awful shock.<br />
It is.<br />
169
What do the Guards say?<br />
There‘s no evidence. It crossed the Border in Fermanagh at half ten and<br />
crashed at about eleven.<br />
Do they think anything happened?<br />
They say there‘s no evidence.<br />
What do you think?<br />
There are no grounds for thinking anything else.<br />
Yes... That‘s terrible, Dan. It‘s so pointless,<br />
That‘s the worst of it.<br />
When is the funeral?<br />
Tomorrow morning.<br />
Would you mind if I came? I met Charley‘s mother three or four times, you<br />
know. She was an attractive woman.<br />
If you want to. There won‘t be many.<br />
I‘d like to. For Charley as much as her mother... By the way, I had a look-out<br />
for your trails.<br />
And?<br />
Spot on, Dan.<br />
You mean they were there, Tony?<br />
Sure, I‘ll give you more precise details later. This is probably not the time...<br />
But there were high trails running north south about ten miles off the coast... Hard to<br />
make out with the glasses, though. Sweep wing. Spotted a high tail on one... And oh<br />
listen, there were other planes hanging about. At lower altitude. They might have been<br />
Nimrods. They seemed to fly a box... A long box... I assume they fly out of Derry or<br />
somewhere in the North.<br />
You‘re sure of this?<br />
Sure I‘m sure. I spent Saturday afternoon on the edge of a hill... About a<br />
thousand feet up... And I made notes... Times. Directions. You know... Then I kept an<br />
eye out on Monday... Sunday was an absolute bitch... These flights seem to go on all<br />
the time.<br />
Sounds like you did a thorough job, Tony... More systematic than anything<br />
I‘ve done here.<br />
Well, you wanted evidence, Dan... It was fun, you know... Watching another<br />
opening round of the world war to end world wars.<br />
Thanks, Tony... I‘m grateful to you.<br />
That‘s okay, Dan. For old times sake... I‘ll see you tomorrow... Dean‘s<br />
Grange, is it?<br />
Yes.<br />
Give my condolences to Charley... And you too, Dan. You were fond of her,<br />
weren‘t you?<br />
Yes.<br />
Well, adios.<br />
Goodbye, Tony. And thanks again.<br />
Turning into Harrington Street marked the entry into the ‗homeland‘.<br />
The trees have the effect of creating a tunnel, a corridor. At the end of the<br />
corridor the tower-like room of the house at the corner of Emorville Avenue<br />
170
stands out, indicating a focal point. Harrington Street itself is a no-place —<br />
always was; the trees do that, because the road is narrow and the houses too<br />
close and too high. It seems appropriate that a lot of coloured people should<br />
live there — moslems, it seems, judging from the shops in the vicinity. Their<br />
centre used to be there, but now they have taken over a protestant church<br />
further up the South Circular Road — facing a synagogue!<br />
Within the tunnel Synge Street crosses Harrington Street. The church<br />
is on the corner to the right. It is closed — fear of vandalism. But it‘s easy to<br />
visualise its interior, I9c Gothic, As a child I stud<strong>ie</strong>d every detail while at<br />
mass. Now I would call it an intricately detailed mandala. Behind and above<br />
the altar are the high, narrow stained glass windows: one scene in particular,<br />
of Jesus at Gethsemene: Jesus kneels, arms out to a hovering angel: behind<br />
him there is a tree, and above and around the tree there are stars. In the<br />
foreground the apostles sleep. I always looked from Jesus to the tree and back<br />
again, always conscious of the stars: the scene never moved me, as perhaps it<br />
should have: I simply looked from Jesus to the tree and back again, ever and<br />
over,<br />
The colours are soft; in other churches I have seen more intense colour<br />
— but I prefer them soft, perhaps because they affected me more gradually.<br />
Then the altar itself. A pile of carved sand<strong>stone</strong> rising towards the spire ever<br />
the Tabernacle and the cross. Robed angels with inclined heads held triplecandle<br />
holders on either side of the altar. They were surprisingly — it seems<br />
now — melancholy figures — as though isolated from their true state.<br />
Between these figures and the central spire there were three steps on either<br />
side, on which were placed the candles, three on either side. They were tall, set<br />
in ornate brass holders. I had always begun my attention to the whole service<br />
by watching the deacon light these. They were not wax candles, of course, but<br />
oil lamps really. The candle shafts served as reservoirs for oil. Even so, I<br />
watched the deacon intently. From the moment his taper touched a wick, I<br />
held my breath as the first tiny flicker appeared en the candle, and continued<br />
to hold it until the flicker strengthened into a proper flame. Thus six times I<br />
held my breath and watched and waited intently. (I realise now that the deacon<br />
himself — an anonymous sort of man with black hair and thick-rimmed<br />
glasses – did the same. Sometimes a candle would not light, so he had to lift it<br />
down in order to trim the wick.) I don‘t know if many of the congregation<br />
watched that ritual, but I can see now that it was an exercise which served to<br />
prepare my attention for the service to follow. The mass itself was in Latin.<br />
Sometimes I paid no attention to it; instead my attention would settle on some<br />
object — the candles, the flowers on the altar, the stained glass, or the person<br />
in front of me or someone else close by. But other times, I entered into the<br />
service with a kind of passion, repeating the words of the service in Latin or<br />
English, both of which were available to me in my missal.<br />
The yearly cycle: winter mornings and communion; summer — much<br />
better memory of winter than summer: no doubt because the light and colour<br />
in the church were more welcoming, but also because it required greater effort<br />
to go to mass anyway. In summer, the church seemed restricting: the sun<br />
shining in across the body, dispelling the stillness which seemed to hover<br />
above the altar in winter.<br />
Intensity of response: debatably controlled, it seems now. Older people<br />
prayed aloud sometimes. One man who always sat in the same place, below<br />
171
the pulpit, could be heard all over the church. Others said the rosary: beads<br />
rattling against the wooden backs of the seat in front — mostly women. There<br />
was something frantic in that. Most people seemed to do nothing at all. I<br />
sometimes gazed at one thing or another: blank with a dry mouth and a feeling<br />
of what I would now call transparency. Though I too must have seemed to he<br />
doing nothing, I was rapt. The only time most people find themselves sitting<br />
immobile for any stretch of time is at church. With practice, of course, this can<br />
lead to meditative states; later, even this state is empt<strong>ie</strong>d, because there is<br />
nothing new to look at. Then they become rapt. They do nothing, think<br />
nothing, see nothing. The ones who pray busily or loudly seem to want to<br />
avoid that state. For them religion is an activity, but an activity on a practical<br />
plane, like all their ordinary activity. The pr<strong>ie</strong>st can be seen to be active on this<br />
plane. lifting, pouring, washing and drying, back and forth, up and clown. Out<br />
by the time I was ten or so, I knew, unconsciously or otherwise, that the pr<strong>ie</strong>st<br />
wasn‘t ‗doing‘ anything. I had many times sat and watched the pr<strong>ie</strong>st going<br />
through his motions from beginning to end, without exper<strong>ie</strong>ncing that jolt of<br />
what I call now significance. His actions were not causal; he made nothing —<br />
he did nothing. his actions were ritualistic — I call it that now — but as a child<br />
I wouldn‘t have understood the difference. It‘s not play, which a child does<br />
understand —for play is shadow action, it parallels imaginatively real activity,<br />
with real causes and effects. The pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions are not shadows of some real<br />
actions. They are real actions — lifting, pouring etc — which are not intended<br />
to have real effects. If they are not playful, they are not strictly symbolic<br />
either. A symbol signif<strong>ie</strong>s something else: the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions do this only if<br />
one seeks the meaning of the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions — if one wants to see them as<br />
real actions. The pr<strong>ie</strong>st is then said to wash his hands because — , to pour<br />
wine because —. All these ‗becauses‘ are brought under the heading of ‗the<br />
sacrifice‘. That is what the pr<strong>ie</strong>st ‗does‘. But this significance is not real; it is<br />
in itself symbolic. The miracle all this significance is supposed to make real<br />
doesn‘t of itself require all this trundling about — it doesn‘t require these<br />
allegedly real actions. So the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions can only be made real by giving<br />
them symbolic significance. But that does not make the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions<br />
symbolic — they remain ritualistic only: his actions do nothing other than<br />
what they appear to do, wash hands, pour wine, bend the knee, raise the arms.<br />
He might just as well not do them. Why does he do them? To give the<br />
congregation something to do, something to watch, to hold their attention. In<br />
terms of practical activity — the ordinary plane of being for people — it fulfils<br />
an expectation, that religion must be an activity like any other human practice;<br />
but it also restricts the congregation to that plane of practical or real activity.<br />
The people who pray busily or noisily don‘t need this restriction — they<br />
exercise it themselves on themselves. But those who become rapt need to be<br />
controlled. The activity of the pr<strong>ie</strong>st serves, though the rapt ones are not<br />
consciously aware of it, to control their rapture, for they are rapt for the<br />
duration of his activity — their rapture is created by his activity, by its actual<br />
nullity, and it is also controlled by his actions. But his actions are not real for<br />
the rapt ones — they are only ritual gestures — nor are they aware of the<br />
symbol, for then the gestures would have to be given significance. (Whose<br />
purpose does the symbol serve? The pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s? But the symbol seems to hover<br />
over the whole activity without touching it at any point, as a rationalisation of<br />
ritual it seems to have no connection with the ritual actions.) The pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s<br />
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actions are meaningless, otherwise they are trivial, but they serve to control<br />
the congregation in its rapture.<br />
Why control the rapture?<br />
Obviously, the actions which create the rapture also act as limiting<br />
conditions which both allow the rapture be sustained and prevent it from<br />
becoming more. Is this deliberate? Is religion the only way to exper<strong>ie</strong>nce<br />
rapture or is it a way of controlling rapture which has its origins elsewhere?<br />
Rapture can be established in ether ways. Art can do it. A lighted candle can<br />
do it. But here again, it would seem that the agent also acts as a limiting factor.<br />
Art especially acts to programme the rapture in great detail, which explains<br />
why religions make great use of art—aesthetics, and why art always becomes<br />
a substitute for religion. Light does not seem to programme rapture, but that is<br />
only because light has no detail, except its light-ness, which is both the agent<br />
of rapture and its limit. Snuff the candle or remove the light and the rapture<br />
ends abruptly, even causing shock.<br />
Rapture is not religious, as such. The focal point or religion is always<br />
some meaning or other, (Perhaps ultimately the one meaning — designated<br />
‗God‘ or ‗divinity‘.) — represented either visually, as image, or aurally, as<br />
word. Such images or words can create rapture; while they are then also the<br />
limits or the rapture, they are nullit<strong>ie</strong>s — like the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s action — for the<br />
duration of the rapture. Rapture transcends religion, though religion can act as<br />
agent and limit. The problem for religion is always this — in most cases it can<br />
continue to act as an effective agent and limit of rapture, but for some (and<br />
perhaps a large number, though this might not be evident in most cases) the<br />
rapture can become an end in itself. Then religion loses its power. People turn<br />
to other agents: alcohol, work, sex, television, for the majority — art, light,<br />
poetry — for the rest. But here the same situation arises: while these things<br />
can act as the agents of rapture, they also act as limits. Again, most people<br />
who abandon religion will stay within the power of the found or discovered<br />
alternative — drink, work, sex, television, art, poetry, or light. But some will<br />
recognise the limitations and abandon (usually quite suddenly) this alternative<br />
agent. What do they turn to then? They will usually choose within the range of<br />
alternatives, from art to alcohol or sex, for example. Even so, some will even<br />
abandon this alternative to an alternative. What then? Can they do anything<br />
other than switch from alternative to alternative? Back and forth, including<br />
religion?<br />
Within the main categor<strong>ie</strong>s there are a host of individual objects and<br />
methods: for instance, one person‘s rapture could become focused on a particular<br />
picture, or poem, or woman, or even locale: a favourite pub or scenic<br />
v<strong>ie</strong>w.<br />
This could mean that people merely seek to maintain rapture — that a<br />
given agent could ‗wear out‘, so that a new agent is needed. Superficially, this<br />
would lead to a search for novelty: here the rapture is identif<strong>ie</strong>d with the agent:<br />
the object or exper<strong>ie</strong>nce gives rapture. Is this true?<br />
The pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions in the mass allow rapture to occur. They focus<br />
everyday attention and at the same time separate it from significance. The<br />
actions occur without meaning. But this is not disturbing; it is not rejected as<br />
meaningless action would be on the practical plane. True, the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s action<br />
are ostensibly meaningful, but only by reference to a symbol which in itself is<br />
not practically meaningful. Though the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions are the agent of<br />
173
apture, they are not in any way rapturous. They do not give rapture. To<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that an object or exper<strong>ie</strong>nce gives rapture is therefore to add something<br />
to the practicality or significance of that object or exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. It is to make it<br />
rapturous.<br />
This is impossible, because rapture does nothing: it is a ‗nothingdoing‘.<br />
How can an object come to appear rapturous? By the mediation of a<br />
third thing. Response to a rapturous object is always an intensification of<br />
feeling. It is the excitement occasioned by the object which makes the latter<br />
seen rapturous — while the object is intended to create the excitement. Here<br />
rapture seems to do something. But it is not rapture.<br />
It is not difficult to make an object the agent of rapture. This can be<br />
done by the person himself or herself — a matter of recognition and release. It<br />
can be done on behalf of the person; the pr<strong>ie</strong>st does it, the artist, the decorator<br />
or the actor, any maker or manipulator of a gamut of resources of perceptibles.<br />
The pr<strong>ie</strong>st does it ostensibly on behalf of a symbolic act — the miracle of the<br />
sacrifice. His actions are both agent and limit of the rapture, while the<br />
ostensible symbol is superfluous — unless if the person, by training or by<br />
volition, relates the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions to the symbol, what happens? The rapture,<br />
as ‗nothing-doing‘, cannot occur: awareness of significance makes rapture<br />
impossible, for the person is doing something, he is applying meaning to the<br />
pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions. Instead of being rapt, the person is ‗faithful‘ – faithful to the<br />
connection between the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions and the symbol, the only way in which<br />
the connection is possible. Faith takes the place of rapture.<br />
But the symbol remains a symbol. Faith of itself cannot connect the<br />
symbol and the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions. The latter take place on the practical plane,<br />
but the symbol does not. Faith is an intellectual assent. As such it is an act, a<br />
mental act, of the form ‗I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve‘ or ‗I accept the preposition that... ‗ Faith<br />
replaces rapture as a mental event replaces a more pervasive event involving<br />
the whole person. What happens to rapture? Either it is no longer exper<strong>ie</strong>nced<br />
or it appears elsewhere or it appears along with the act of faith.<br />
Is it possible that rapture is no longer exper<strong>ie</strong>nced? Can one live<br />
without rapture? If we can, then one must live a life of incessant activity, and<br />
this activity must always he meaningful — it must always be rationalised. This<br />
is because rapture is ‗nothing-doing‘, and to avoid it one must always do<br />
something, but do something in such a way that it avoids becoming pure ritual.<br />
The doing must always be meaningful or rational. This is the same as saying<br />
that activity and exper<strong>ie</strong>nce must always he consciously controlled.<br />
Is this plausible? Faith is not necessarily opposed to rapture, But faith<br />
is nonetheless threatened by rapture, because it nullif<strong>ie</strong>s faith, as it does<br />
activity. They are mutually exclusive. Yet it is obvious that something like<br />
rapture often accompan<strong>ie</strong>s faith. But does it? Can a purely mental event be<br />
accompan<strong>ie</strong>d by an exper<strong>ie</strong>nce which renders the mental event impossible?<br />
No. But they could appear in sequence, especially in a rapid sequence. But is it<br />
rapture? It is an excitement — an emotional activity. This is not rapture,<br />
because rapture is a ‗nothing-doing‘<br />
The emotion which follows on the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce or perception of an art or<br />
object is not rapture. To say that someone ‗went into‘ raptures over some thing<br />
is to misunderstand what rapture is. The object or action which prompts<br />
rapture is nullif<strong>ie</strong>d by the rapture. Rapture is a separate state, occasioned by an<br />
object or action but not a response to it. Any response to such an object or<br />
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action is not rapture, it is an emotion. Whereas rapture is a ‗falling away‘ from<br />
not only the object or action which occasions it but from all other objects and<br />
actions, an emotional response to an object or an action is a point of departure,<br />
a movement from the object or action to an inner exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. Again, while the<br />
object or action is a limit condition on rapture, the rapture is sustained by the<br />
continuing presence of the nullif<strong>ie</strong>d object or action, the emotional response is<br />
directly maintained by the continuing power of the object or action to have an<br />
effect — to maintain the emotion. The removal of the object or ending of the<br />
action brings the rapture to an end — simply to an end — the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is<br />
like one of being woken up; but the emotion can continue to affect one<br />
afterwards, and its weakening power to excite is exper<strong>ie</strong>nced as a coming<br />
down, a qu<strong>ie</strong>tening. This means that — which is obvious — emotionally, the<br />
object or action has a power over the person, while in terms of rapture the<br />
object or action remains an occasion.<br />
But where is the real difference here? If the object or action is absent,<br />
there is no emotion, but neither is there rapture. Both are dependent upon the<br />
presence of the object or action. But rapture is not an emotion.<br />
Emotion requires an ‗idea‘: at least the idea that the emotion is possible<br />
or appropriate. Is emotion not spontaneous? Don‘t infants express emotion?<br />
No. But they can be excited. Wave a coloured thing in front of even a very<br />
young child and it will respond. Yes — and continue to wave the thing and the<br />
child becomes enraptured. Yes.<br />
Novelty: the emotion/excitation depends upon the novelty of the thing<br />
or action. The mass is not a good example of this. For a child the mass is never<br />
exciting as such. Strange, perhaps. This is because the level of activity is too<br />
low; the pr<strong>ie</strong>st‘s actions are too slow, too regular. What happens when novelty<br />
loses its appeal? Boredom. It does not pass into rapture. Why? The child can<br />
be excited by a waving object. What enraptures it? Not rapid movement —<br />
that tires its power of attention. Either a slow, regular motion, or a fixed object<br />
which appears to have, because of its design, movement — regular movement.<br />
What bores a child? Distinguish between tiredness and boredom. A tired child<br />
becomes restless and irritable because its senses are overloaded, excitation<br />
becomes agitation. A bored child becomes restless and irritable because the<br />
lack of excitation is accompan<strong>ie</strong>d by a desire for excitation. For a bored child<br />
excitation becomes an end in itself — because excitation is lacking. It is<br />
disposed to be excited, and it will look for something to excite it. If such a<br />
cycle continued, if the search for excitation without satisfaction leading to<br />
renewed search, then a cycle of novelty-seeking is established, because the<br />
lack of excitation (the search for excitation) becomes dominant. Such a cycle<br />
always begins with the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of excitation, not with the lack or with the<br />
search. The child wishes to repeat an exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. As an emotion, such an<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce can only he repeated, it cannot he sustained. The exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of<br />
excitation is always the beginning of a cycle of lack-search-excitation-lack.<br />
The failure to maintain the cycle lends to frustration and boredom.<br />
Rapture is possible if the stimulus is not intense enough to excite.<br />
Rapture can be destroyed by excitation, but it would be extremely difficult to<br />
change from excitation-response to rapture, because rapture would appear to<br />
the excitable person to he nothing but boredom of the most apathetic kind.<br />
What is boredom? It is either the lack of excitation or interest, or it is<br />
the result of the lack of rapture. Boredom is the lack of either state: a kind of<br />
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no-man‘s land bordering both excitation and rapture. But surely its relations to<br />
the two states must differ? As the lack of excitation it is a state of frustrated<br />
emotion: the lack of an outlet or focus for nervous energy and the inability to<br />
hit a certain state of mind, in both cases a kind of expansiveness. As the lack<br />
of rapture, it is a state of disturbance or distraction, an inability to stop paying<br />
attention to something outside; a desire to let go accompan<strong>ie</strong>d by the inability<br />
to let go. In the case of excitation, boredom occurs because there is nothing to<br />
cause excitation, or the particular object or action fails to excite. In the case of<br />
rapture, boredom occurs because of some dissonance either in the action or<br />
object or in the person which prevents rapture occurring. There is an important<br />
difference here: there is no search or desire for rapture — because it is<br />
essentially a state of forgetting or ‗nothing-doing‘. Boredom can only be<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nced if the state of rapture is created partially, and cannot become<br />
complete.<br />
How could a rapture-inducing action or object fail? How could, for<br />
instance, the mass cease to create rapture? Because a cycle of excitation comes<br />
into being or becomes dominant. Rapture becomes imperfect or impossible<br />
because the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce and so cycle of excitation distracts from it. Yet how<br />
could a desire for rapture continue to exist if rapture is not an object of desire?<br />
Is rapture peace? Peace can he desired. No. Peace is a precondition of<br />
rapture. But peace can be desired for itself. As a feeling, it is a kind of<br />
excitation in so far as it is desired, sought for or exper<strong>ie</strong>nced to satiation. How<br />
can a desire be the precondition of rapture? It cannot be. So rapture is not<br />
peace.<br />
If rapture cannot be desired, then how can one be bored by the failure<br />
of rapture? One cannot. One is either in rapture — which cannot be known<br />
while one is in rapture — or one is not.<br />
So boredom is always caused by the lack of excitation.<br />
There seems to be no connection between rapture and excitation/<br />
emotion. This means that a person could be in a state of rapture and at the<br />
same time bored or excited. It is impossible to know.<br />
I don‘t understand this anymore.<br />
Why did I write it? I seem to have started out to describe my childhood<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of the mass.<br />
I intended making some notes about my visit to mother. Why did I<br />
write all this instead?<br />
Lotty?... Lotty?... Are you awake?<br />
Yes.<br />
Where are you?... It‘s dark in here.<br />
Here. Beside the cot.<br />
Will I draw the curtains?<br />
I‘d rather you didn‘t, Dan.<br />
Did you sleep?<br />
For a while... I got up to feed Brian.<br />
I could bottle-feed him, Lotty... It might help to ease the strain.<br />
No. I would rather feed him myself. It‘s comforting.<br />
176
I‘m glad of that... But he bites you.<br />
Not any longer.<br />
No?<br />
Perhaps he‘s being considerate.<br />
Perhaps.<br />
It‘s about six, Lotty.<br />
We might as well go then.<br />
Don‘t you want to?<br />
What difference will it make, Dan? Mother is dead... Seeing her corpse won‘t<br />
bring her back.<br />
Oh Lotty. Does it hurt that much?<br />
I‘m being objective, Dan... What about Brian?<br />
Is he asleep?<br />
Yes.<br />
We shouldn‘t be too long, let him sleep on.<br />
What if he wakens?<br />
We won‘t he long.<br />
We had better go then.<br />
Put on a jacket, Lotty. It‘s fairly cool.<br />
Yes... I heard the rain earl<strong>ie</strong>r.<br />
Showers... I‘ll get the keys. They‘re in the kitchen.<br />
Dan, what do we do when we get there?<br />
What?<br />
The funeral company... What do we do?<br />
Oh, let them handle it... They are used to this sort of thing.<br />
But how should we behave, I mean?<br />
As you feel, Lotty... How do you think you should behave?<br />
I don‘t know.<br />
Are you afraid people will think you are insincere?<br />
Yes... I know it‘s strange. I am very upset... upset... I know that... But I‘m not<br />
sure I am acting as thought I am upset.<br />
Well, you look upset, Lotty.<br />
Do I?... Do you know... When I described myself as upset a moment ago, I felt<br />
like laughing... it seemed so ridiculous.<br />
Why?<br />
Because being upset... seems so separate from everything else.<br />
That‘s because your gr<strong>ie</strong>f is private.<br />
You call it gr<strong>ie</strong>f, Dan... Am I gr<strong>ie</strong>ving?<br />
It could be called that... It‘s stronger than being just upset.<br />
God, Dan, I can‘t see that at all... You can call it what you like... It doesn‘t<br />
seem to be anything that has a name.<br />
Lotty... sweetheart... Take it easy.<br />
It‘s alright, Dan... I want to talk about it with you... Before I go into public, I<br />
mean.<br />
Okay... Talk on,<br />
What I am trying to say is this... If I give a name... or you do... the feeling<br />
seems to change... I said I was upset... At once I wasn‘t upset... Perhaps I never was<br />
upset... Instead I wanted to laugh...<br />
Why did you want to laugh?<br />
Because... because it was so ridiculous.<br />
177
What was ridiculous?<br />
The idea that I was upset.<br />
Yes, I can understand that... Go on.<br />
Then you called it gr<strong>ie</strong>f and at once it wasn‘t gr<strong>ie</strong>f.<br />
What was it?<br />
But that would be another name, Dan... Don‘t you see that?<br />
Yes... Okay... How do you feel when you are alone?... Like this afternoon.<br />
Sitting in a darkened room.<br />
I don‘t remember.<br />
You don‘t? But you weren‘t asleep all the time.<br />
No... Yes, I remember thinking about the first time we went to the Algarve... I<br />
was seven... An English business fr<strong>ie</strong>nd had loaned daddy his apartment. Everything<br />
was in place... so precisely. The first thing that mother said was that we would never<br />
remember where everything should go... I immediately began to memorise where<br />
everything was, so we could put them back in their proper places before we left... I<br />
think mother did the same... It was getting dark and I couldn‘t see clearly... Daddy<br />
was looking out the window at the sea. It was the purest aquamarine. You could see<br />
the glow of it on the ceiling... I felt so sad. The evening was so beautiful and I<br />
couldn‘t concentrate on it because I was so worr<strong>ie</strong>d about how everything could be<br />
put back properly... The room was strangely perfect, just as it was, and the clear light<br />
glowed on the ceiling, I couldn‘t move. Everything was so remote... Then, just when I<br />
thought I was going to d<strong>ie</strong> because of the tension in me... or disappear, at least...<br />
mother called daddy. She just said, Victor... He didn‘t turn around... or move in any<br />
way. Mother and I looked at his silhouette in the window... I knew then that mother<br />
felt as helpless as I did... I can remember it so clearly now... I stared at him... I<br />
remember that all my attention was on the side of his neck, where the light seemed to<br />
touch him most strongly. There were little hairs, curled and intensely white, and his<br />
skin was full of little fissures... Seeing his neck like that... he wore an open-necked<br />
shirt... made him seem so vulnerable... I had a strong desire to creep up and bite him<br />
there... I did, Dan... but then he turned and smiled and said, Let‘s go out to dinner... It<br />
was such a rel<strong>ie</strong>f... I ran and threw myself into his arms in gratitude...<br />
What happened afterwards?<br />
Oh we walked down towards the sea... We watched the sea turn from<br />
aquamarine to indigo...<br />
No. I mean about the apartment?<br />
Hah... There was a cleaning woman. She know where everything went... We<br />
left it to her.<br />
You must have felt pretty silly for having worr<strong>ie</strong>d about it.<br />
No. I forgot about it... Until this afternoon... My memory of that first evening<br />
there had always been of the sea and then the restaurant we went to afterwards... You<br />
see, it was a seafood restaurant and it was decorated with aquamarine tiles... It was<br />
like eating under the sea.<br />
Appropriate... Lotty, I‘m going to go down Fosters Avenue.<br />
Curiosity.<br />
To see if the house is still being watched?<br />
Just curiosity.<br />
It‘s a good idea.<br />
Strange memory.<br />
What is?<br />
What you‘ve just told me about the Algarve.<br />
178
Why?<br />
Not what I would have expected.<br />
Why not?<br />
It‘s about your father, really.<br />
No... Don‘t you sees Dan? I identif<strong>ie</strong>d with mother.<br />
Ah... Yes. I see now... Did you have any other memor<strong>ie</strong>s like that?<br />
I can‘t remember... What is it?<br />
Nothing... The specials are hardly using Mercs... The blue one... Now.<br />
There‘s a man in it.<br />
Yes... I think it‘s a three hundred... No, Lotty. Coincidence... He‘s probably<br />
waiting for someone... From one of the houses.<br />
Can we come back this way?<br />
Sure. And see if the Mercedes is still there?<br />
Not just that... It‘s the Avenue.<br />
Brings back memor<strong>ie</strong>s?<br />
The atmosphere... Not nostalgia, Dan... I always felt it was such an outward—<br />
going place... Dan?<br />
I think I know what you mean... Above the city... Between the mountains and<br />
the sea?<br />
Yes. It‘s beautiful in spring, Dan... So fresh... Do you think we ought to move<br />
out here? When the legalit<strong>ie</strong>s are finished.<br />
Do you want to?<br />
Would you be sad to move from Carlisle Avenue? You grew up there... You<br />
must have memor<strong>ie</strong>s... Your childhood.<br />
Yes... Look, Lotty. I‘d like to think about it.<br />
One of the houses will have to be sold.<br />
Yes... But which one?<br />
The idea has just come to me, Dan... I should think about it too... We‘ll leave<br />
it for now... But it is an idea.<br />
It‘s a bigger house... More modern... I like it, Lotty.<br />
Yes, I know... Let‘s think about it... Oh.<br />
Here we are.<br />
Dan.<br />
Don‘t worry, Lotty... Just let yourself be.<br />
I had forgotten for a moment.<br />
Don‘t worry about it... These people are used to it.<br />
But what if they think I‘m insincere?<br />
Lotty, I‘ve never heard you talk like this before. Have you ever doubted your<br />
sincerity before?<br />
I mean here, Dan... It‘s so public... If it were a church.<br />
They‘ll be very professional, Lotty. Wait and see... Come on. They‘re waiting<br />
for us... I‘ll do the introducing.<br />
Good evening... Mister and Misses White?<br />
Yes... That‘s right.<br />
My name is Berger... Patrick Berger... I‘m afraid I am always sorry to see<br />
people come here... Please come this way... Misses White... my condolences... This<br />
way... Yes... In here... Now...<br />
Oh...<br />
The coffin is sealed, I‘m afraid, Misses White. You understand?<br />
Yes, of course.<br />
179
Good, Mister White... I‘ll leave you alone now... I‘ll be down the hall... my<br />
office... I‘ll leave the door ajar...<br />
Thank you, Mister Berger.<br />
Snff.<br />
Lavender?<br />
And something else... Very oily... Like maraschino.<br />
Like a Roman Catholic Mass.<br />
Isn‘t it?... It does add something... And the flowers, Dan... Did you get them?<br />
No. I‘ve forgotten all about that.<br />
They‘re lil<strong>ie</strong>s, Dan... They symbolise resurrection, don‘t they?<br />
I think so.<br />
You were right... Very professional... You know? Just right.<br />
I told you they were used to this sort of thing.<br />
I didn‘t expect the lid to be on, Dan... Could we lift it?<br />
I doubt it, Lotty... See the screws.<br />
Oh, Dan... Dan.<br />
Lotty... Here.<br />
I assumed I would see her... I knew it would be terrible to see her dead... But<br />
this is worse... Dan, why can‘t I be let see her?... Dan, it would be the last time.<br />
Lotty... They have their reasons.<br />
Let me touch the coffin at least.<br />
Yes. Do.<br />
Dan? Is she really in there?<br />
Yes, Lotty.<br />
I find it hard to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve... There‘s just a p<strong>ie</strong>ce of wood between her and my<br />
fingers... Dan, I want to touch her!<br />
Lotty... Come over here and sit down... Oh do, sweetheart... Don‘t work<br />
yourself up so.<br />
Dan... Dan... Why can‘t I see her?... What have they done to her?<br />
Lotty... Look, sweetheart, it‘s four days since the accident...<br />
The incense!... Is that why?... Dan! Take me out of here!<br />
Sweetheart...<br />
She‘s dead, Dan!... She‘s dead! Dead!<br />
Come on... Ah, Mister Berger.<br />
Perhaps you would like to rest in here.<br />
My wife...<br />
It is to be expected, Mister White... It is a terrible shock for the bereaved, you<br />
know... Misses White?... Will you sit here?... Yes... It‘ll be more comfortable... I<br />
know... Yes... Wait. I‘ll get you a little something... Just a moment.<br />
I didn‘t know it would be like that, Dan... What was it like for you?... Your<br />
parents, I mean.<br />
I can‘t remember, Jetty.<br />
You can‘t?<br />
No... Uncle Paul helped me.<br />
What did you do?<br />
Like you... When I saw the two coffins.<br />
Were they closed?<br />
Yes.<br />
Ah... Here you are, Misses White... That will fortify you... And you, Mister<br />
White, no doubt you could do with a snifter too.<br />
180
That is very good of you, Mister Berger.<br />
Thank you.<br />
It is always a shock... We do what we can.<br />
You do, surely, Mister Berger.<br />
And the flowers were beautiful.<br />
Thank you, Misses White... Do you feel better now?<br />
Yes, thank you.<br />
Now... There are no formalit<strong>ie</strong>s, really... We have arranged for eleven in the<br />
morning... Does that suit?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good, Mister White... Do you want to go in procession?<br />
Lotty?<br />
Oh... No, not really.<br />
Very well... We should meet at the entrance... Say at ten fifty?<br />
Ten fifty... A wreath, Mister Berger... The holiday...<br />
Yes. I understand... There are a selection here. Perhaps you would like to<br />
choose.<br />
Oh, just a wreath, Mister Berger.<br />
I understand... And perhaps some flowers as well.<br />
Yes... of course... As inside...<br />
Yes... There are some papers... But that can be left till another time?<br />
Yes... Unless...<br />
Oh, no... No... Everything is in hand, Mister White.<br />
Perhaps we‘ll go on then.<br />
Yes.<br />
Lotty?<br />
Yes... And thank you, Mister Berger... You have been most considerate.<br />
We do what we can, Misses White... This way... And oh... A clergyman?<br />
We have arranged that, Mister Berger.<br />
Good... I think it is better if it is the local man... Now... Oh, rain again, I‘m<br />
afraid... The weather has been so bad this summer.<br />
It has, hasn‘t it... Well, thank you, Mister Berger. You have been a great help.<br />
Only happy to be, Mister White... Such a sad occasion... We do what we can...<br />
Goodbye, Misses White... Again, my condolences.<br />
Goodbye, Mister Berger... And thank you... Oh.<br />
Run, Lotty!<br />
Open it... It‘s pouring.<br />
Ah... Got it... There... Jump in1<br />
Oh... It‘s so cold!<br />
I‘ll put the heater on... Is he still watching?<br />
Yes.<br />
Put your legs under the heater... There... You can relax now.<br />
Dan, if I had known it would be like that.<br />
It‘s one of those things, Lotty... You can never imagine what it will be like.<br />
Yes... Like giving birth.<br />
Or sex.<br />
I had expected mother to be laid out in white. As though she were asleep... A<br />
candle... And music... I was going to kiss her goodbye... I forgot how long it has been<br />
since the accident.<br />
Actually, so had I.<br />
181
The things one assumes... Are you going back by Fosters Avenue?<br />
Yes… It‘s not far.<br />
Do you think we should stop by the house?<br />
Do you want to?<br />
We just can‘t drive by, Dan.<br />
But what‘s the point in going in?<br />
Well, to see if everything is okay.<br />
Why not?... The Merc has gone.<br />
So there was nothing sinister.<br />
No... They are finished.<br />
I hope so... I have the key.<br />
Let‘s go then... The garden?<br />
We can get someone to look after it... Oh...<br />
What?<br />
It‘s so still, Dan.<br />
Yes.<br />
I mean really still.<br />
It has been empty for over four days now, Lotty.<br />
I know... Everything is in...<br />
The police probably scared off any prospective th<strong>ie</strong>ves.<br />
I‘ll check upstairs... The fridge, Dan. Will you switch it off and take the<br />
perishables?<br />
Okay... Don‘t be long...<br />
Mister Butler... Hello. You‘re going out?<br />
Yes, Misses MacLane... Tell me, do you know of any restaurant in<br />
Donnybrook? I‘m going over in that direction, you see.<br />
Donnybrook?... I don‘t know Donnybrook very well... But I think there are<br />
some restaurants in Ranelagh... You‘ll pass through Ranelagh going down to<br />
Donnybrook.<br />
I‘ll look there, then... Those birds. Do they make the rattling sound I heard all<br />
afternoon.<br />
Magp<strong>ie</strong>s? Yes... They‘re very noisy... You get used to them.<br />
The colours... They‘re almost exotic.<br />
They seem to be everywhere now, Mister Butler... They drive the smaller birds<br />
away.<br />
But they are beautiful.<br />
They don‘t sing, Mister Butler.<br />
They remind me of jays... Every morning a crowd of them collect on the<br />
garden wall outside my window... in Epsom. They create an absolute uproar.<br />
They‘re all crows... The farmers hunt them as vermin.<br />
Well, they are certainly beautiful to look at, Misses MacLane.<br />
Enjoy your meal, Mister Butler.<br />
I will... Good evening.<br />
182
Ah, there you are.<br />
You made tea?... Where did you get the milk?<br />
It‘s homogenised... Your mother obviously didn‘t use a lot of milk... It keeps<br />
for days... I‘ve put the food into bags... I took some things from the cupboard too...<br />
Instant coffee and that... They won‘t keep.<br />
Good.<br />
Do you want some tea?<br />
No. We can go... If you are ready.<br />
Okay... Let‘s go then... Will you take one of the bags.<br />
Yes...<br />
No cars.<br />
No... Oh... Don‘t look around, Dan... Just drive away...<br />
What is it?<br />
The Lynch woman next door... I don‘t want to meet her.<br />
The chatty little thing whose husband looks after the city‘s sewage?<br />
Yes... She tr<strong>ie</strong>s so hard.<br />
Don‘t be snobbish, Lotty... She‘s lived there for fifteen years, hasn‘t she?<br />
It‘s not that... She‘s the sort who thinks social success is a different reality.<br />
Indeed... Not the illusion of social climbers only.<br />
I know... If she could just be herself... She is a good person, Dan... She was<br />
very kind after daddy d<strong>ie</strong>d... But I just can‘t face her right now.<br />
I understand... You‘re pale... How do you feel? Perhaps it wasn‘t such a good<br />
idea after all.<br />
Oh, it was, Dan... It‘s the shock of that funeral place... It‘s hitting me now, I<br />
suppose.<br />
Yes... We had to go through with it.<br />
I feel silly, really... Giving way like that.<br />
You couldn‘t help it, Lotty. Don‘t blame yourself... But the Bergson guy was<br />
helpful.<br />
Bergson? You mean Berger?<br />
Did I say Bergson? Funny. I don‘t know anyone called Bergson... Anyway.<br />
Yes. Berger ... He was a help... They know how to handle that sort of situation.<br />
He was extraordinarily smooth, wasn‘t he? Anywhere else I would have called<br />
him unctuous.<br />
Just right for a funeral parlour, though.<br />
Yes... I wonder what he is like at home? I mean, it‘s only an act.<br />
He‘s probably very nice... He could have been impersonal.<br />
Yes. That‘s true... But he seemed to know what to do.<br />
Anyway, he made the whole ritual eas<strong>ie</strong>r... But don‘t let yourself feel silly,<br />
Lotty. It‘s not like you to agonise... First you were afraid of appearing insincere. Now<br />
you‘re afraid you were silly.<br />
Oh no. That is different... I was afraid I would laugh... As I told you.<br />
Laugh?<br />
I cr<strong>ie</strong>d instead, Dan... But afterwards I realised I had been silly... To break<br />
down like that, I mean.<br />
Why?<br />
Because mother wasn‘t there... That‘s just her body in the coffin.<br />
What do you mean?<br />
Mother is not dead, Dan.<br />
183
Lotty... Please... Try to come to terms with it... I know how.. .<br />
You don‘t understand, Dan... She was in her bedroom...<br />
No!<br />
When I lay down on her bed, she lay down beside me.<br />
Lotty... Don‘t...<br />
She did, Dan... I could feel her presence beside me.<br />
Lotty, you are overwrought. We shouldn‘t have gone...<br />
Have you never felt that? About your own parents, I mean.<br />
Hmm... Wishes, Lotty... Sometimes we want something so badly.<br />
Did you ever feel their presence, Dan?<br />
Oh Lord... Lotty.<br />
Did you? Are you afraid to admit it?<br />
It was the shock, Lotty... So soon after their death.<br />
What happened?<br />
After I was told about the accident, I went to bed... It was late and I didn‘t<br />
know what else to do... I couldn‘t sleep... I went to the bathroom. I felt numb... I had<br />
to pass their bedroom on the way hack. The door was open. As I passed their room, I<br />
distinctly felt that my father was at my side... I got a terrible shock... Like you, I was<br />
certain he had been there... But when I tr<strong>ie</strong>d to think about it, the whole thing seemed<br />
absurd... I fell asleep trying to grasp what had happened.<br />
You see? Your father wasn‘t dead.<br />
But it was what I wanted, Lotty. Can‘t you see that... I made it happen. It was<br />
an hallucination.<br />
No! I‘m not that far gone, Dan. I didn‘t wish it.<br />
Why did you want to stop over at Forsters Avenue?<br />
That‘s true, Dan... I wanted consolation. It was the house I wanted, not<br />
mother.<br />
Here we are... At least it‘s stopped raining... Will you take that bag in?<br />
Yes... I mean that, Dan... I‘m not a child... I can be objective about this sort of<br />
thing.<br />
I‘m not accusing you of phantasising it... It happened to me too.<br />
Did it ever happen again?<br />
I didn‘t want it to happen again, Lotty... Shall we eat?<br />
Yes... We‘ll have to get something from the freezer... I‘ll do it... Why did you<br />
not want it to happen again?<br />
What was the point? They were dead... I knew I had to accept that.<br />
It never happened spontaneously?<br />
In dreams... Of course... One‘s guard is down.<br />
Guard? You mean you concentrated on not letting it happen?<br />
Yes.<br />
Dan!... Why?... What if they wanted to come to you?... You were punishing<br />
them.<br />
Lotty... Don‘t analyse it like that... Try to understand. The shock was very<br />
great... I had to give myself a chance to get over it.<br />
I‘m sorry, Dan... Yes. The shock must have been great... Yet you seemed to<br />
handle it well... People admired you for your self-possession... Do you know that? I<br />
thought you were very strong and courageous.<br />
The research gave me something to focus on... That helped.<br />
That was wise... I‘l1 do fish, Dan. It won‘t take so long to defrost... What<br />
dreams did you have?<br />
184
I dreamed of my father several times.<br />
And?... What happened.<br />
Nothing... He was sitting in an armchair, looking at me... His head was like a<br />
cracked egg.<br />
Oh no, Dan!... The accident...<br />
Obviously I was trying to visualise it... I could only do it in my dreams.<br />
But mother, Dan... I don‘t want to see her like that.<br />
Lotty, take it easy... There may have been other reasons.<br />
And what did you dream of your mother?<br />
Nothing. I never dreamed of her.<br />
And you never felt her presence?<br />
No.<br />
Strange.<br />
Why?<br />
I would have thought you were more likely to see your mother.<br />
Well, it was my father.<br />
You must have been closer to your father.<br />
I wasn‘t really, Lotty. It would he more accurate to say that he was closer to<br />
me.<br />
Did you keep him at a distance?<br />
I always felt he wanted to turn me into something else.<br />
He wanted you to love him, Dan.<br />
I did... That‘s not the point... Look, put the fish in a sauce. You won‘t have to<br />
wait for them to defrost then.<br />
Yes. I‘ll use mother‘s homogenised milk. It‘s thicker... What is the point?<br />
It was something else, Lotty... He wanted to make me less than I am... I think<br />
he was afraid of me for some reason. Perhaps he could never get used to having a son.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
Perhaps he didn‘t know how to he a father.<br />
But he was your father.<br />
Yes... In the same way as you are gr<strong>ie</strong>ving... Can you see that?<br />
You mean being a father is some kind of label?<br />
Yes. The man who begets the child... who suppl<strong>ie</strong>s the sperm and the man who<br />
is father to the child are different men.<br />
I don‘t understand that, Dan.<br />
There‘s no personal connection between the sex act in which the child in<br />
conceived and what appears in the world nine months later.<br />
Yes. I see now... Do you feel that about Brian?<br />
Yes. But I accept the responsibility.<br />
But do you doubt you are his father, Dan?<br />
Not in that sense... Of course not, Lotty... The sperm was mine, but Brian is<br />
not... No... I mean that he is another person... I‘m responsible for him... as a father...<br />
But he is not mine as a kind of possession.<br />
And you think your father was too possessive?<br />
No... Not possessive... I think he wanted me to conform to some idea he had of<br />
what his son should he.<br />
What kind of idea?<br />
He wanted me to be not separate from him... Oh, that sounds clumsy, I know...<br />
He couldn‘t understand the separate-ness... It was like a chasm.<br />
And that is why he came to you in your dreams?<br />
185
No. That is why I dreamed of him... I must feel guilty for holding back from<br />
him.<br />
Oh, poor Dan... Darling... You shouldn‘t feel guilty... As you say, it was<br />
unavoidable... You are not responsible for that.<br />
Yes. I know... I don‘t feel guilty... Not consciously. It was in the nature of<br />
things.<br />
But your mother, Dan?<br />
I don‘t know... At least it‘s not so clear. She never pressured me in that way...<br />
I should bring Brian down,<br />
Do... This is almost ready... Oh what time is it? I must feed him soon.<br />
Almost eight.<br />
We‘ll eat first... leave him till then. A few minutes won‘t make much<br />
difference,<br />
He‘s not crying. Sit down... There. Thanks. Obviously there was no reason for<br />
your mother to come to you like that.<br />
Come to me?... Lotty, are you talking about ghosts?<br />
No... I mean your mother‘s spirit... You know what I mean.<br />
I don‘t... You are saying that your mother is literally not dead?<br />
My exper<strong>ie</strong>nce in her bedroom proves that.<br />
No... Lotty, that was wish-fulfilment. That was why you wanted to go there...<br />
Look, Lotty, I‘ll be blunt. It was your way of handling the shock you exper<strong>ie</strong>nced at<br />
that mortuary. You couldn‘t see your mother there, so you wished her up in Fosters<br />
Avenue.<br />
I didn‘t see her, Dan. I felt her presence. It‘s not the same thing.<br />
Very well... But my argument stands. You tr<strong>ie</strong>d to avoid the shock by going to<br />
Fosters Avenue.<br />
No!... Dan, I know what I felt there... You don‘t.<br />
It‘s not the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce that I‘m talking about. It‘s your explanation of it.<br />
But I cannot bel<strong>ie</strong>ve she is dead, Dan!... I cannot.<br />
I know, sweetheart... You will have to work to come to terms with it.<br />
Do you bel<strong>ie</strong>ve your parents are dead?<br />
Of course.<br />
Really and truly?<br />
I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they are dead in the way I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you are alive... Or that I am alive,<br />
for that matter.<br />
What?... What do you mean, Dan? Of course we are alive.<br />
Then of course my parents are dead.<br />
I don‘t understand you, Dan... I think I‘m trying to say that there is no such<br />
thing as death... But you are saying that both death and life are kinds of bel<strong>ie</strong>f... Is that<br />
right?<br />
Yes,<br />
Dan! Dan. That makes you miserable. No. I can feel it... You won‘t look at<br />
me.<br />
Stop it, Lotty... You are becoming strident.<br />
And you are becoming formal... Why?... What are you afraid of?<br />
Nothing... You are trying to force this obsession you have that your mother is<br />
not dead on to me... You can‘t face the fact and you are trying to get around it by<br />
persuading me to accept your delusion.<br />
I‘m not deluded, Dan... She can‘t he dead, Dan. Can you see that?... She didn‘t<br />
come back to me because I wanted her. She came because I needed her.<br />
186
This is impossible, Lotty... You can‘t live the rest of your life like this. You<br />
are going to have to accept the fact that your mother is dead sooner or later... Lotty.<br />
Oh don‘t cry. I don‘t mean to hurt you... But you can‘t force this on me... I suffered<br />
my parents‘ deaths, I know what I am talking about. I know it seems impossible just<br />
now, but you have to face it... Lotty, at least stop this phantasising... It upsets me to<br />
see you like this.<br />
You just don‘t understand!<br />
Don‘t shout, Lotty... I can hear you.<br />
You don‘t understand... You are so cold and distant... You never gr<strong>ie</strong>ved for<br />
your parents... You punished them for dying on you.<br />
Lotty! Stop it!... Don‘t say things you might have to regret.<br />
You punished them as you are punishing me!<br />
Punishing you! ... Lotty.<br />
Yes... because I had a baby... You resent that... You are jealous of Brian...<br />
That is why you spend all your time on your precious lecture.<br />
Oh God, Lotty, please stop it.<br />
You are trying to prove you are still the... Oh God, Dan... I‘m so sorry... Oh…<br />
No… No.<br />
Lotty... Sweetheart... Don‘t cry... No... Don‘t torture yourself so.<br />
Oh Dan... Forgive me... I‘m so wilful...<br />
Hush... Here... Let me kiss you...<br />
Mmm... Dan, forgive me... Forgive me.<br />
Yes... Sweetheart... I forgive you...<br />
Please... Dan...<br />
I do... Please.<br />
You have no one but me and I said those awful things... Oh Dan... Dan...<br />
Forgive me.<br />
I do... Lotty, look at me... I forgive you, sweetheart... I know you are under<br />
great stress...<br />
No... For thinking that about you, Dan... I understand now... I do, Dan... I<br />
understand so clearly... Oh my poor darling... I didn‘t understand... Oh darling...<br />
Darling... Let me hold you...<br />
Lotty... What?... It‘s alright... Look, come inside... Sit down.<br />
Yes, Dan... But I am sorry for saying it... I should have understood this... But I<br />
didn‘t... How could I be so blind?<br />
Understand what, Lotty?... What are you talking about?<br />
How alone you are, Dan... I suddenly saw that...<br />
It‘s not that bad, Lotty... No different than anybody else.<br />
Oh, it is, Dan... I saw the enormity of it...<br />
Lotty, don‘t exaggerate like that.<br />
But it‘s true... There is you and there is the whole world... Everything.<br />
That‘s true of everyone, Lotty.<br />
No... Not like that... They don‘t know it, Dan... You do.<br />
Speak for yourself, Lotty... I don‘t.<br />
You do.<br />
You‘re not going to force me to accept this idea too, are you?<br />
No... I don‘t mean to… But it‘s the way you use words like separate and<br />
difference... Those sorts of words... You emphasise them... Rather than words that<br />
bring things together... No wonder you say that bel<strong>ie</strong>ving in life is the same as<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ving in death.<br />
187
No, Lotty... Don‘t take that too far... I was talking about words only... They<br />
only mean what we intend them to mean. There‘s no reason to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they have<br />
anything to do with real things.<br />
Have it your own way, Dan... I know what I saw... Darling, don‘t you see... It<br />
showed me why I love you... I could see you... Just you... You‘re still sceptical... It<br />
doesn‘t matter, Dan... I‘ll go up and feed Brian.<br />
Do it down here, Lotty.<br />
I‘ll do it upstairs... I want to rest... The funeral is going to be a strain... Thank<br />
goodness no one will be there... You should watch some television, Dan... You should<br />
rest, too...<br />
Lotty.<br />
Hi... Been here long?<br />
Tony! It‘s good to see you.<br />
And you, Dick... You‘re looking well enough.<br />
You‘re putting on weight... Soft life?<br />
Hah. Not really... Same again?... Tommy!... Two pints... There.<br />
Helps to be known.<br />
Doesn‘t it?... It‘s expected. Plumpness equals steadiness. It‘s crude, but that‘s<br />
how they measure it... Though the tortured jogger look is around.<br />
And you don‘t jog?<br />
Too boring... They tell me that is the objective. Empty the mind completely.<br />
but I still climb... mostly down in Connemara<br />
The same old high?<br />
Oh yes. Never fails, Dick... Here they come... Thanks, Tommy... But I was<br />
one-upped on Monday. I told you I climbed Garraun, didn‘t I?<br />
Yes<br />
It‘s not high, really... nor particularly remote, like the Bens... But in this<br />
weather it is a bit of a challenge. I went up in a downpour... You have to approach it<br />
via its outriders... Your health, Dick. It‘s good to see you again.<br />
Your health... It‘s good to back.<br />
Anyway, climbed up. Wet, very wet, and desolate. Gleninagh looked<br />
primeval... except for the road that goes down the centre of it... Sat back and treated<br />
myself to some chocolate... Then a mangy-looking dog came running up, muck up to<br />
the eyeballs. Then its owner appeared. The local sheep-farmer. Quite young...<br />
galloping pyorrhoea... tattered donkey jacket and the trousers of last year‘s Sunday<br />
suit...<br />
I can picture him... Keeps his cigarette cupped in his hand in his trousers<br />
pocket?<br />
That‘s it... Acted as though he was in the corner of the top f<strong>ie</strong>ld... I felt quite<br />
put out.<br />
Goes up every day to check the fence?<br />
Not quite. Said he climbs it about fifty times a year. Two or three times a week<br />
in the summer... I was impressed... Told me I could see Brandon in Kerry on a good<br />
day. He‘s never seen it, but the old fellas told him... good pint?<br />
Yes.<br />
Hate the stuff in London.<br />
188
I usually drink lager.<br />
Wise... I have the gear in the car,<br />
Thanks... I think I‘ll go up Mullaghcleevaun.<br />
Haven‘t been up there for years... Actually, I‘ve got into the bad habit of<br />
driving to the foot of a hill and up and down in an hour... Never settle down to the<br />
hills that way... I usually walk out and back in Connemara.<br />
I ended up that way, too. Climb Sunday morning and drink the afternoon.<br />
Yes, I remember... That pub in Lacken.<br />
Spaced out.<br />
Better to spend the whole day at it.<br />
That‘s what I intend... How are things?<br />
Fine. Fine<br />
You seem distracted.<br />
Oh it‘s nothing... Psyching myself up for the grind tomorrow, I suppose...<br />
After the holiday.<br />
How are you doing there?<br />
On target.. I‘m a bit over-promoted, really... Can‘t move anywhere for another<br />
five years at least... I thought I was doing well to move so fast. But it was only the<br />
general expansion in the department. Come to a halt now.<br />
Jim is in the same fix.<br />
I met him a few weeks ago. He was in the Customs House for some<br />
conference... He looks well.<br />
I haven‘t seen him yet... He sounds well... Well-settled, mother says.<br />
That‘s what they want.<br />
Your mother still at you?<br />
Don‘t you know... But she‘s absentminded about it nowadays. She‘s given up<br />
on me, I think.<br />
Well, she managed it with Catherine,<br />
She‘s divorced... Didn‘t you know?<br />
No, Last I heard she was settled in California. Two children.<br />
It was always on the cards... She tr<strong>ie</strong>d... But he was a first class sod, Dick.<br />
Why did she marry him?<br />
I think she thought she could handle him... He was ambitious... She bel<strong>ie</strong>ved<br />
that ambitious men were the most easily controlled.<br />
That would he Catherine.<br />
Trouble is she‘s not ambitious herself, Dick... He needed someone sharp like<br />
himself... Catherine never needed to be ambitious.<br />
Just excitement?<br />
You think so? Mother thought she needed taming... But repression only makes<br />
her wilful.<br />
Yes, Indian women are like that. Their lives are totally controlled by their<br />
men. They take their revenge by being perverse in small personal ways.<br />
That‘s it... What do you think?<br />
I‘ve always thought she should be left to herself.<br />
I agree... But she marr<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
Perhaps she got tired of herself... I wasn‘t around when it happened, so it‘s<br />
hard to say.<br />
That could he it... There was an element of abandonment. She became qu<strong>ie</strong>t...<br />
almost docile, Dick... I felt sorry for her.<br />
Will she stay out there?<br />
189
I think so... Her letters have bucked up... It probably suits her.<br />
That‘s good... Give her my regards.<br />
Why didn‘t you marry her, Dick?... She would have, you know.<br />
No, Tony...<br />
Why not? You liked her.<br />
I‘ll tell you... Do you know that a star or a planet can be used to accelerate a<br />
spacecraft? It goes down the gravity well towards the body in such a way that it<br />
sweeps around it and out into space again. Done accurately, the craft can save quite a<br />
bit of the acceleration it received from the drop. Catherine was like that. She came in<br />
towards me, swept around me and out again. I gave her acceleration.<br />
She resented that, you know... She told me once that you built her up and then<br />
let her go.<br />
I had nothing else for her.<br />
But you were two of a kind.<br />
Exactly... Anyway, California will suit her.<br />
It does... Tell me about your new novel.<br />
Mmm? What‘s the barman‘s name?<br />
Tommy... Hold on... Tommy! .. . Same again, will you.<br />
Good... Is this your regular pub?<br />
I suppose so... Do you like it?<br />
Fair enough. Roomy... A surprising mixture of seediness and complacency for<br />
Donnybrook.<br />
Teachers and bedsit landlords,<br />
The odd contractor?... You can feel the general slyness in the air... The Irish<br />
thing.<br />
Well for you, Dick. You‘re out of it.<br />
Amn‘t I?<br />
Oh don‘t rub it in... Jesus... Tell me about the new novel anyway<br />
Very little to tell, Tony. Ever heard of an old Irish tale called The Taking of<br />
the Hostel of the Da Derga?<br />
No,<br />
Or The Taking of the Hostel of Da Choca?<br />
Again, no.<br />
Well, a scholar called O‘Rahilly argued that they are about the same event in<br />
pre-Celtic Ireland... An invasion by a people called the Laigin... Leinster gets its name<br />
from them and a peninsula in Wales opposite is called after them too... Anyway they<br />
trap the King of Ireland in the hostel, They set fire to it three times and each time the<br />
fire is put out. But the King d<strong>ie</strong>s of thirst and the invaders cut off his head...<br />
And?... Oh. Thanks, Tommy.<br />
Thanks... Cheers.<br />
Cheers... What happens next?<br />
Nothing.<br />
You mean that‘s it?<br />
Yes.<br />
Not much of a plot.<br />
I dispose of the plot in the first chapters.<br />
What‘s the novel about then?<br />
I haven‘t given much thought to it yet... Oh, it worked very well, Tony... For<br />
instance, the names of the gods, Da Derga and Da Choca, mean the same thing, the<br />
Red God. O‘Rahilly argued that the tales, especially the Da Derga one, are also about<br />
190
the King‘s entry into the underworld... You see? His fated journey to the hostel is on<br />
one level about the destruction of a king by invaders and on another about the<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of death.<br />
Okay... Go on,<br />
Sure?<br />
Yes, I want to see what you made of it.<br />
Well, in each tale the hostel is set alight three times... It seems a curiously<br />
specific detail to survive in both tales when there are otherwise few coincident details,<br />
Then I noticed that among the premonitions of death in the mythic element there is a<br />
group called the Three Reds, three red haired men dressed in red clothes and mounted<br />
on red horses, who go before the King to the hostel,<br />
The fires?<br />
That‘s what I thought. But what about the water that is used to extinguish the<br />
fires? You see, there are two elements in the fire image...<br />
Yes.<br />
Okay. The Three Reds speak to the King and tell him that though they are<br />
alive, they are also dead.<br />
The two elements?<br />
Yes... That‘s what triggered my imagination. On one hand there are fire and<br />
water, and on the other life and death. What I try to work out on one level is which<br />
corresponds to which, fire to life and water to death or water to life and fire to death...<br />
Go on<br />
That‘s it<br />
How do you work it out?<br />
It‘s not that easy, Tony... Sometimes it seemed that one set of correspondences<br />
was true, then again it seemed that the other was... sometimes I thought it was a load<br />
of nonsense. There‘s no warrant in the tales for that kind of speculation.<br />
But you must have reached some kind of solution.<br />
Yes, I suppose so... Actually, I was surprised... But it has its own kind of truth.<br />
Stop dragging it out, Dick... What was it?<br />
You should read it for yourself... No. My solution as you call it is not in it...<br />
you‘d have to arrive at your own.<br />
Of course I‘ll read it... But tell me,<br />
Okay... It could he either set, actually... Both hold up.<br />
That‘s no solution, Dick.<br />
Isn‘t it?... Think of what it impl<strong>ie</strong>s,<br />
What?<br />
That there‘s no difference between life and death,<br />
Oh come on, Dick... This is the twent<strong>ie</strong>th century... You‘re not getting<br />
religious, are you?<br />
No... But there is a reasonable explanation for that.<br />
What is it?<br />
We probably don‘t know very much about either state... Certainly not about<br />
death...<br />
But the images are there, Dick... From what you‘ve told me they must mean<br />
something.<br />
Yes, That‘s why I wrote the novel,<br />
So what do they mean?<br />
Hah, Tony... We‘re back where we started,<br />
Huh?... Red has to symbolise death... The men are red.<br />
191
Why? The red men are both dead and alive,<br />
Ah... It makes me dizzy, Dick.<br />
The beginning of enlightenment, Tony.<br />
Indeed... For those who have the time for it... Oh shit.<br />
Tony! I hoped I‘d find you here.<br />
Jimmy, how are you?... Good... What will you have?<br />
Nothing. I want to talk to you.<br />
Not now, Jimmy. Will you ring me tomorrow?<br />
Listen, that bastard White is against it. Did you know that? Why did you let<br />
me walk into it?<br />
Hey, take it easy, man, Don‘t get so excited about it... Excuse me, Dick...<br />
Look, Jimmy...<br />
It‘s my neck, Tony. You said...<br />
Wait now, Jimmy... Hold your horses there... What did you do?<br />
What you told me to do... I... Who‘s he?<br />
A fr<strong>ie</strong>nd of mine, We‘re having a little drink... He‘s an old fr<strong>ie</strong>nd.<br />
I haven‘t seen him around, Where‘s he from?<br />
From Dublin... Oh very well, Dick, this is Jimmy MacShane,<br />
He‘s a journalist... This is Dick Butler... He‘s a writer.<br />
Hello, Jimmy.<br />
Where did you say he was from?<br />
Here, Dublin.<br />
He doesn‘t sound it... I knew most of the writers here...<br />
What do you write?<br />
Fiction.<br />
I don‘t know you,<br />
Take it easy, Jimmy... He lives in London... But he‘s Irish.<br />
Butler?... What are you doing here?<br />
Hey!... It‘s okay, Dick... Jimmy‘s under a lot of pressure at the moment...<br />
Listen, Jimmy, Dick is over on a holiday. He‘s visiting his family in Dublin.<br />
Fucking West Brit!<br />
Dick!<br />
It‘s okay, Tony. I‘ll go and have a piddle.<br />
You‘ve got too many Brit fr<strong>ie</strong>nds, Tony.<br />
Don‘t threaten me, you stupid prick... New tell me, what the hell did you do?<br />
What you told me... I asked him for an interv<strong>ie</strong>w.<br />
And?<br />
He laughed at me.<br />
Come on... Why?<br />
He didn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me... Look, Tony, you said it would help... I‘m up to here, in<br />
case you don‘t know.<br />
Step being paranoid... You obviously made a balls of it... All you had to do<br />
was find out what he knew. It was dead easy... What did you tell him?<br />
That I was writing an article about neutrality.<br />
Oh God help us... Even now you sound pretentious... No wonder he laughed at<br />
you.<br />
He put the security people on to me... They stopped me today... Tony, they<br />
knew who I was!<br />
So what? You‘re in and out of there every day.<br />
If that gets around!... I‘m telling you, Tony, it‘s my neck, not yours.<br />
192
Okay, okay... Now take it easy... I‘ll get you a drink.<br />
Don‘t bother, I don‘t want to be seen with Brits... Look... I want this straight.<br />
What is it?<br />
What‘s your line, Tony?... No... Not the official one, I‘ve heard it... They say<br />
there‘s a sell out... No! Your people!... I‘m mixed up with you... They‘re asking about<br />
me... What I‘m doing with the likes of you.<br />
Okay, Jimmy... Now, I‘ll tell you one thing straight...<br />
What?<br />
It‘s about you yourself... Hold on... Let me say it first... You‘re not into<br />
anything. I‘m doing what my bosses tell me to do...<br />
But the information I gave you!<br />
As a journalist, you eejit. I could have got it from a hundred sources... Will<br />
you get it straight... You‘re not an informer. You‘re just a freelance making a living<br />
where you can... Now, have you got that?<br />
You‘re not going to help me?<br />
You don‘t need my help, Jimmy.<br />
They‘re going to get me, fuck you.<br />
Don‘t be silly.<br />
You said the White thing would clear the air... Why did you say that if I‘ve<br />
nothing to worry about?<br />
Because I thought you wanted to get well in, that‘s why.<br />
Get well in?... What do you know about that?<br />
You wanted to do your bit for the cause, didn‘t you?... It was your chance and<br />
you made a balls of it.<br />
Tony, I‘m in trouble, man, They‘re after me... Certain... Why don‘t you help<br />
me out? Come on, I helped you...<br />
You were paid for it, Jimmy,<br />
Fuck you!<br />
Keep your voice down.<br />
Fuck off!... It‘ll he on your head,. .You lousy double- crosser... May you rot in<br />
hell for this, you double-dealing bastard!...<br />
Dick... There you are.<br />
Do you want to leave?<br />
No... Tommy!... Same again, old pal... Sorry about that.<br />
It‘s okay... He seems to be off his head.<br />
In a way... There are thousands like him.<br />
From the North?<br />
Mmm... Thanks, Tommy... Here, Dick... Here‘s to peace in our time.<br />
Hhh... Cheers.<br />
Trouble is, if you get to know them, they begin to project their troubles on to<br />
you... Anyway, it‘s all in an evening... Where were we?... Oh, your novel... When is it<br />
coming out?<br />
It hasn‘t been accepted yet... I told you.<br />
Yes... Oh, yes... Listen, Dick, maybe we should go... Somewhere else... It‘s<br />
left a bad taste... The car‘s outside... Finish this pint.<br />
Why not?<br />
You‘re right, you know,<br />
About what?<br />
This place... The city, the whole country... We‘re going around the second<br />
time, do you know that?<br />
193
How do you mean?<br />
I‘ll tell you a story, Dick... There was an old farmer who had two farms a<br />
distance from one another. He worked one himself and put his servants to work the<br />
other. He had two nephews. While they were young they worked with the servants on<br />
the second farm. As they got older they began to demand land for themselves...<br />
Anyway, after a struggle, the farmer gave the older nephew three quarters of the<br />
second farm, while the younger nephew was left to work with the remaining servants<br />
on the other quarter, The younger nephew went on agitating for land of his own, but<br />
he was much weaker on his own, You see, the wily old farmer had placated his older<br />
and more dangerous nephew, which divided the interests of his nephews, and also left<br />
himself with a foothold in the second farm... Years went by. The two nephews<br />
marr<strong>ie</strong>d and had children. The younger nephew continued to agitate, and some of the<br />
older nephews children supported him, on the principle that both nephews had<br />
originally vowed to get the whole farm together, and they felt their father had reneged<br />
on this. Matters got to such a stage that the older nephew began to feel threatened also<br />
by the younger nephew‘s agitation, for some of his own children began to say that he<br />
had no right to his share of the farm so long as his younger brother was excluded from<br />
ownership... The older nephew was faced with a choice. Either he helped his brother<br />
take possession of the remaining quarter, and so stand by the original vow, but which<br />
might bring him into conflict with his uncle again, or else help his uncle put his<br />
brother down for once and for all. Which do you think he did?<br />
Are you a nationalist, Tony?... Or a moralist?<br />
It‘s about power, Dick... I‘m a servant of power.<br />
So what is he going to do?<br />
What do you think? It is about power... Are you finished? Good... Anyway,<br />
it‘s a far cry from your novel, Dick. No time for speculating on the colour of death...<br />
Dan<br />
Oh, hello, Tony... Hello.<br />
Hello.<br />
Oh, Dick, this is Dan White. We were at college together... Dan, this is<br />
Richard Butler, an old fr<strong>ie</strong>nd. He‘s over from London for a holiday.<br />
You picked a good time to visit, Richard.<br />
Indeed... It‘s no better in London, if that is any consolation.<br />
Hah... So I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve... Are you off, Tony?... Will you have a drink before you<br />
go?... Richard?<br />
Dick?<br />
What about you?<br />
Don‘t let me keep you, Tony. I‘ve come in for a quick drink.<br />
We might as well.<br />
Good. What will it be?<br />
Stout... Two pints, Dan. Hold on... Tommy!... What are you having, Dan?<br />
Lager.<br />
Two pints and a pint of lager... Will we sit down the back?<br />
Good idea,<br />
Tommy!... Bring them down, will you... Good man.<br />
What part of London are you from, Richard?<br />
I‘m from Dublin originally. But I‘m living in Epsom.<br />
Ah, Surrey... Nice?<br />
Yes. Beside the Downs.<br />
Will we sit here?... It‘s out of the way.<br />
194
Dan.<br />
Sure, Tony.<br />
The barman will bring the drink down... I haven‘t seen you in here before,<br />
I don‘t often come in here... Even though it‘s just around the corner...<br />
How is Charley, Dan?<br />
As well as can he expected under the circumstances, Tony.<br />
Dan‘s mother-in-law was killed in a car crash last Saturday, Dick...<br />
I‘m sorry to hear that.<br />
Thank you.<br />
It‘s a harrowing exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... How long is it since your father d<strong>ie</strong>d, Dick?<br />
About three years... But we were prepared for it to some extent... Cancer.<br />
Yes. That could help.<br />
Dan‘s parents were killed in a car crash... About six years ago, Dan?<br />
About that...<br />
I‘m lucky so far... Both my... Ah, Tommy. Good man,<br />
There you are... No. Keep that.<br />
Thank you, sir.<br />
Well, here‘s to your healths.<br />
Cheers.<br />
Good luck,. .Thanks,<br />
You‘re welcome... How is England? I haven‘t been there since eighty-one.<br />
There is a difference. A kind of seediness. Especially in the public services...<br />
It‘s not too noticeable in Surrey.<br />
I can imagine... Do you think Magg<strong>ie</strong> Thatcher will survive?<br />
Would it make any difference?<br />
How do you mean?<br />
North Sea oil pays for Misses Thatcher. And it will pay for whoever follows<br />
her... As long as it lasts, that is.<br />
Dick, Dan lectures on politics in Trinity.<br />
Not contemporary politics... Political philosophy... I was curious, Richard,<br />
You live there, you see.<br />
The feeling seems to be that she won‘t. But that hasn‘t become public yet.<br />
I thought so... How do you find Dublin?<br />
Don‘t say it, Dick...<br />
I can‘t resist it, Tony... You take a number eight bus.<br />
Dick... Dan, Dick is a writer, I think it leaves him a bit detached.<br />
What do you write?<br />
Fiction.<br />
Have you published?<br />
Yes... Does that make me a real writer?<br />
There are so many would-be writers, Richard. Dublin is full of them.<br />
His latest novel is about the colours of life and death, Dan.<br />
Do you have a theory?<br />
No. It‘s imaginative.<br />
He‘s worked out that death is red,<br />
Appropriate... What colour is life, Richard?<br />
Tony has simplif<strong>ie</strong>d it... But life could be red, instead,<br />
I don‘t understand.<br />
You had better explain it, Dick,<br />
195
There‘s no explanation, really... I used some old Irish tales about the death of a<br />
king. At one level it is straight murder but at another it is mythic. The two levels<br />
seemed to correlate through a correspondence between life and death on one hand,<br />
and fire and water on the other. Part of my story turns on the question of which<br />
corresponds to which. For instance, does fire symbolise life or death?<br />
And you conclude that it could be either?<br />
That‘s a personal conclusion. It‘s not in the novel... I only realised it after I<br />
had written the work.<br />
Strange... I mean there seems to be a fairly sharp division between the two,<br />
I agree.<br />
Then why did you have difficulty in making a more definite ascription?<br />
Hah... Because we know very little about either.<br />
Ha ha... That‘s a good point, Dick... Isn‘t it Dan?<br />
Perhaps primitive myth isn‘t a good starting point for such analysis.<br />
It‘s what inspired me to do it in the first place.<br />
Will you have another drink, Dan?<br />
Well... What about you, Richard?<br />
I‘m on holiday.<br />
Very well, then.<br />
I‘ll be back in a moment...<br />
Richard... As you can imagine, my wife is pretty upset because of the death of<br />
her mother.<br />
Yes?<br />
It‘s a coincidence, no doubt... We talked about death today. My wife...<br />
Charlotte... finds it hard to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that her mother is dead... You can appreciate that?<br />
Yes... When my father d<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
I had that exper<strong>ie</strong>nce too... But I found myself... and I mean found myself...<br />
saying that life and death are a matter of bel<strong>ie</strong>f... I mean rather than being matters of<br />
fact.<br />
Yes.<br />
I was... I still am... surprised... But you seem to have come to the conclusion<br />
that this is because of a lack of knowledge about life and death. Is that right?<br />
From one point of v<strong>ie</strong>w... But from another it could be because there is no<br />
difference between life and death,<br />
Here you are,<br />
Thanks, Tony.<br />
Thanks... Your health.<br />
Yes.<br />
Good luck.<br />
But how can you prove that, Richard?<br />
Prove what?<br />
That there might be no difference between life and death.<br />
Oh, back to religion... In death we are in life and in life we are in death... Is<br />
that the best the two of you can do? I was taught that at the age of seven.<br />
Lotty seems to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it too, Tony.<br />
What?<br />
I thought it was because she couldn‘t face the fact of her mother‘s death... But<br />
she‘s made me think about my own exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
And that‘s why you came down here?<br />
196
Mmm?... Hardly, Tony... You see, Richard, I discovered that I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve the fact<br />
of my parents‘ deaths through an act of will, I mean, I decided that they were dead.<br />
What else could you have chosen to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve?<br />
Literally anything, really... Lotty bel<strong>ie</strong>ves her mother is still present... That‘s<br />
the word she uses, presence.<br />
It takes time to come to terms with it.<br />
Yes, I‘ve told her that... But the problem is that as far as I understand myself, I<br />
haven‘t come any closer to accepting the fact of my parents‘ deaths... Have you,<br />
Richard?<br />
I never decided he was dead, anyway... Sometimes I‘m caught unawares and I<br />
find myself thinking about him as though he were alive...<br />
Yes. That‘s it exactly... It‘s not just memory?<br />
No, Wish... Perhaps a deep one,<br />
Only wish, Richard?<br />
Why not?... What else could it he?<br />
Lotty won‘t accept that interpretation... She is an extremely practical person...<br />
That‘s true, Dick.<br />
But she is adamant that something objective is involved.<br />
You find it‘s infecting you, Dan?<br />
Mmm?... In a way, Tony.<br />
So you came out to clear your head?<br />
I wanted to think about it, yes, Tony... It seems such a coincidence that you‘ve<br />
just completed a book on the subject, Richard, I‘m struck by that.<br />
It‘s a pretty universal exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... Everyone has to think deeply at some time<br />
or other about it,<br />
It takes courage to write about it, Richard... Death is a fearful exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
And inevitable... Anyway, it‘s not just about death. It‘s as much about life.<br />
Of course, It would be fairly morbid otherwise. Yes... I take your point,<br />
Richard... Well, it was pleasant meeting you, Richard,<br />
And you... I‘m sorry about your wife‘s misfortune.<br />
Thank you... I hope your work is a success... It does seem very interesting.<br />
Hopefully.<br />
I‘ll see you, Tony... Tomorrow?<br />
Yes... I‘ll bring along those notes.<br />
Notes?... Oh the sightings?... Yes. Do... Goodnight.<br />
Good luck.<br />
See you, Dan,<br />
Do you want another drink, Tony?<br />
Not unless you do... Back to the grind tomorrow,<br />
I‘ve had enough... We can leave when we have finished this, then.<br />
Yes... I‘ll drive you up... Oh remind me to take the gear out... It‘s in the boot...<br />
He‘s pretty shook.<br />
Who?<br />
Dan... He has extraordinary self-control, you know... Charley must he taking it<br />
pretty badly... To affect him like that, I mean.<br />
He‘ll get over it... Don‘t look so offended, Tony... They will come to terms<br />
with it. We all do, one way or another.<br />
You don‘t know them, of course, Dick... Tell me, why have you come over?<br />
I promised myself a short holiday when I finished The Red God.<br />
The Red God? Is that what you call it?<br />
197
Yes. It‘s to the point... Anyway, that‘s why I‘m here.<br />
Are you finished?<br />
Yes... Let‘s go.<br />
The car‘s around in Marlborough Road,<br />
Lead on... By the way, Tony... as a matter of curiosity... is he the White the<br />
other guy was talking about?<br />
You caught that?<br />
Of course.<br />
You‘re quick on the uptake, Dick.<br />
You seem surprised... I‘m a compulsive observer.<br />
Are you going to write a novel about it?<br />
No... Social realism is no way to understand people... Is he?<br />
Yes.<br />
What are you up to?<br />
Curiosity, Dick... Up this way... Damn. It‘s raining again... It‘s not far... Dan<br />
has some cock-eyed theory that the Russians and the Americans are fighting over<br />
Ireland at the moment.<br />
You‘re joking.<br />
He‘s not... He bel<strong>ie</strong>ves there is some kind of tactical manoeuvring going on six<br />
miles up. The Americans are flying up and down the east coast, while the Russians<br />
are flying off the west coast.<br />
Whatever for?<br />
He thinks the Russians are testing access routes to the country... They‘d use<br />
them to invade us if there was a war.<br />
Makes sense... But there‘s been nothing in the media about it... At least I<br />
haven‘t heard anything.<br />
Dan bel<strong>ie</strong>ves there‘s a cover-up.<br />
What is he going to do?<br />
I don‘t know... I expect Charley‘s mother‘s death will distract him...<br />
And you?<br />
Me?<br />
What are you going to do?<br />
I‘m going to do nothing... Here we are... Hold on... Get in... Christ, what a<br />
summer.<br />
Then why did you send that journalist to interv<strong>ie</strong>w him?<br />
That was before I saw for myself in Connemara... I thought Jimmy might dig<br />
something out of him.<br />
Did he?<br />
Nothing except that Dan‘s not interested in Irish neutrality... But I expected<br />
that.<br />
The journalist didn‘t.<br />
Oh, Jimmy‘s a bit of an innocent really... He bel<strong>ie</strong>ves that all true Irishmen are<br />
for neutrality... Except where the English are concerned, of course… Hah… It‘s pretty<br />
bloody stupid.. .You‘d be surprised at how many otherwise rational people bel<strong>ie</strong>ve<br />
that too... The converse of course is that if you are not in favour of Irish neutrality,<br />
then you must he anti-Irish, and to be anti-Irish is to be pro-British.<br />
I can imagine.<br />
What do you think?<br />
It‘s fairly obvious that the Irish Republic is a holiday for the nationalists... Any<br />
nation which has tr<strong>ie</strong>d to dominate Europe has sought to control the island... The<br />
198
English, Spanish, French and Germans... The fact that the English succeeded in<br />
holding off the others hides that fact from the Irish.<br />
So you think the Russians are the next contender?<br />
I don‘t think America wants to dominate Europe directly... It‘s doing well<br />
enough as it is. It‘s a march... Like Japan, I suppose.<br />
What about England?<br />
How? Of course Ireland is the English march... as always... But there are<br />
different ways of controlling.<br />
But do you think England would try to take the Republic over again?<br />
So long as the Republic looks out for English interests here, it doesn‘t have<br />
to... And what is the journalist afraid of? He‘s obviously terrif<strong>ie</strong>d of something.<br />
He‘s a Provo fellow-traveller... Oh there are lots of then... He‘s afraid they‘re<br />
going to shoot him as an informer... It‘s a complete phantasy of course... He feels<br />
guilty because he hasn‘t the nerve to carry a gun... He has a brother mixed up in it...<br />
He‘s in the Maze... Here we are... Along here?<br />
Yes. The last house on the right... Thanks for dropping me up... He‘s deeply<br />
disturbed, Tony... He should have treatment. It‘s sad to see a man going to p<strong>ie</strong>ces like<br />
that.<br />
Isn‘t it?... You‘re right, He is deeply traumatised... Will I tell you? It‘ll give<br />
you an insight into what‘s going on here... Okay... He‘s from Tyrone... near<br />
Dungannon... Apparently when he was about eight, a gang of protestant youths<br />
grabbed him on his way home from school. They took him to a shed and buggered<br />
him with the handle of a brush or something... He bled for days afterwards.. He was<br />
too ashamed to tell anyone...<br />
Poor chap. No wonder.<br />
Yes... It goes on all the time... I mean, everywhere... It‘s not just random<br />
terrorism, you know... It means something deep.<br />
Stealing his manhood?<br />
Yes... It‘s one of the ways that the war is being fought.<br />
War?<br />
What else is it, Dick?... It‘s being going on for over two hundred years... So<br />
you see... Jimmy wants to take revenge. But shame prevents him from facing the<br />
reason for his wanting revenge. It‘s destroying him.<br />
But he says he‘s an informer... Does he want to be destroyed for that?<br />
He‘s a journalist too... Not a good one, I‘m afraid... He‘s in the business of<br />
selling information.<br />
To you?<br />
The government.<br />
What about?<br />
State secret, Dick... Sorry.<br />
You?<br />
I‘m a state secret, too.<br />
No longer the dilettante?<br />
No.<br />
What if they do shoot him?... He said it would be on your head.<br />
You heard that?... The information was paid for. Others would have suppl<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
it... It would he the same money.<br />
Power?<br />
What it‘s all about... You‘re lucky to be away in peaceful Epsom... Writing<br />
your books.<br />
199
Do you think that‘s wrong?<br />
No... You seem to be struggling with a kind of power, anyway.<br />
How?<br />
Death... What you said about it is consoling... That‘s not quite the word...<br />
enlightening... that‘s it... You throw light on it... Dan seemed to think so... He‘s not a<br />
very forthcoming man, you know.<br />
Thanks... I‘ll go... Oh, the gear.<br />
Come on. I‘ll get it out for you... It‘s all in this ruck... I don‘t know if you<br />
want the ruck.<br />
No, I brought a small haversack... But I‘ll keep the things in it. It‘s conven<strong>ie</strong>nt,<br />
Yes... Well, enjoy your climb, Dick... Give me a ring when you get back.<br />
I will.<br />
By the way, do you know what Mullaghcleevaun means?... In English... I<br />
checked it once.<br />
No.<br />
The summit of the cradle... And it is the cradle of the Wicklow mountains...<br />
Anyway, so long... Enjoy your climb.<br />
Yes... I‘ll see you. Take care.<br />
Dan?<br />
Yes... Sorry I woke you.<br />
What time is it?<br />
Coming up to midnight.<br />
What were you doing?<br />
I played some music.<br />
I heard it... Brahms, wasn‘t it?<br />
Yes... The fourth symphony... And then some Bach,<br />
I must have fallen asleep.<br />
How do you feel?<br />
I had that dream again.<br />
Which dream?<br />
About the seal... I‘m so tired... In the dream I mean...<br />
Probably getting tired of the dream.<br />
Do you think so?... No... Mhh.<br />
What?<br />
No, The seal is pulling me down, Dan... I realised that tonight.<br />
It‘s only a dream.<br />
Yes... But what does it mean?<br />
Were you frightened?<br />
No, No, I wasn‘t... I wasn‘t frightened.<br />
It‘s helping you... Don‘t worry about it. It‘s only a dream.<br />
Down, down, down... I can feel it still, Dan. It‘s so dark... and yet I know I‘m<br />
moving... It‘s so unreal.<br />
You should go back to sleep, Lotty... I‘ll feed Brian at three if you like.<br />
No... I‘ve set the clock... I‘ll do it... Dan.<br />
Yes?<br />
I‘m sorry about my outburst this evening. I should not have said those things.<br />
200
It‘s alright. You are under stress,<br />
It annoyed me that you could contradict me like that... It was unreasonable.<br />
But I couldn‘t help it, Dan.<br />
Don‘t worry about it.<br />
You are right... Mother is dead... I know I have to accept that,<br />
In time, Lotty... Give it time.<br />
Yes, Dan... Kiss me goodnight... Thanks... I love you, Dan.<br />
And I love you, Lotty.<br />
I feel so strongly that you are mine, do you know that?<br />
Mmmm...<br />
201
III<br />
202
WEDNESDAY<br />
Good morning, Misses MacLane.<br />
Oh good morning, Mister Butler. The rain has come back.<br />
Yes.<br />
The weather is disappointing... For your holiday.<br />
Oh I‘m used to the Irish weather,<br />
Are you from Dublin?<br />
Yes.<br />
Do you like England?<br />
It‘s okay.<br />
I have a brother in Walsall... He hates it. He‘d love to come home... Sorcha will<br />
bring your breakfast up in a few minutes.<br />
Thank you... Oh by the way, Misses MacLane... Do you have a dictionary I could<br />
borrow?<br />
A dictionary. The girls have one, I‘ll tell Sorcha.<br />
Thank you.<br />
I seem to mean that rapture is a state of doing nothing: how I exper<strong>ie</strong>nced<br />
the mass as a child. I set out to write about the control of rapture: by the church?<br />
That impl<strong>ie</strong>s that beyond rapture there is another state, which the church wishes to<br />
avoid. What is it?<br />
It strikes me now that I exper<strong>ie</strong>nced this rapture in the years immediately<br />
preceding puberty, from about eight to thirteen/fourteen, So either there is a superrapt<br />
state possible during those years or else this state is in fact puberty — rapture<br />
is controlled in the sense of being prolonged into puberty, so as to limit the effects<br />
of puberty: good old sex — to dampen sexual desire.<br />
Yes?<br />
I‘ve brought the dictionary.<br />
Good... Thanks... Are you Sorcha?<br />
Yes.<br />
Do you go to Saint Louis?... I see it‘s around the back.<br />
Noo.<br />
Where, then?<br />
Muckross... In Donnybrook.<br />
203
What order is that?<br />
The Dominicans.<br />
Is it a good school?<br />
It‘s okay.<br />
Well, thanks for the dictionary. I‘ll leave it on the hallstand when I‘m finished...<br />
Will that be alright?<br />
Yes...<br />
When I asked the eldest daughter if the school she goes to was good, she<br />
suddenly became distant and veiled. Why? I assume from the tone of her voice<br />
that it is better than the local convent school. Yet she refuses to be impressed by<br />
it. Obviously, her parents (mother?) chose the school. Donnybrook — getting on<br />
socially: but the daughter is not impressed. Free education has destroyed the social<br />
prestige of education as such. It has become a straightforward meritocracy.<br />
The two thousand page dictionary (inscribed to Sorcha, Deirdre and Orla,<br />
from Mammy and Daddy, Christmas 1983, Hoping you make good use of it)<br />
symbolises excessive hard work.<br />
Actually, education (knowledge) is a form of social control.<br />
RAPT: (1) Deeply engrossed or absorbed; (2) transported with emotion;<br />
(3) showing or proceeding from rapture; (4) carr<strong>ie</strong>d off to another plane, sphere of<br />
existence, etc. (etym: Latin RAPTUS pp seized, transported, cf RAPE)<br />
RAPTURE: (1) ecstatic joy or delight; joyful ecstasy; (2) (often p1.) an<br />
utterance or expression of ecstatic delight; (3) the carrying of a person to another<br />
place or sphere of existence; (4) obs, the act of carrying off.<br />
RAPTUROUS: (1) full of, feeling, or manifesting ecstatic joy or delight;<br />
(2) characterised by, attended with, an expression of, such rapture. RAPTORTAL<br />
= predatory, (Latin RAPTOR — robber plunderer)<br />
All the definitions, except Rapt (1), refer to heightened or extreme<br />
emotion/feeling. I used rapt in the sense of (1), contrasting it to states of emotion:<br />
it was because I equated rapt and rapture that the whole question of emotion came<br />
up: most of the note is an attempt to resist the notion of rapture as extreme<br />
excitement, Why? Obviously because rapture, as emotion, does not last, Against<br />
this I was trying to describe a state that does last.<br />
That‘s not true, Mass lasts about twenty minutes: I would have been rapt<br />
for no more than ten minutes or so. Not duration then — but the quality of the<br />
state. Perspective: from now, at age of forty, back to childhood — and intervening<br />
years. Aware now of both states rapt (1) and rapture. I avoid rapture because I<br />
know it won‘t last and because it is followed by a downer — what magicians call<br />
return-shock. The quality of rapt (1) is that I seemed not to he aware of the state at<br />
all as a child: only in recent years do I remember the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. I value the state<br />
204
ecause you don‘t know you‘re entering it and you have no memory of it<br />
afterwards: you can‘t know anything about the state.<br />
What value can such a state have now, if I can‘t know about it? I find it an<br />
attractive state.<br />
Controlled state: that‘s why I discussed control at such lengths: rapt (1) is<br />
a controlled state: that‘s why it isn‘t daydreaming (which I did at school) or<br />
fantasising: they are compensations for an inadequate reality: rapt (1) occurred<br />
because the circumstances of the mass created a reality which was so complete<br />
and yet empty that I could forget it: take my attention from it – actually abolish<br />
attention.<br />
That means that rapt-ness could be ach<strong>ie</strong>ved deliberately: certain<br />
conditions must be created which establish a reality that is complete (adequate)<br />
and yet (therefore?) empty; there would be nothing to attend to and at the same<br />
time nothing lacking — otherwise the state would be compensatory.<br />
Religious services won‘t do: the bel<strong>ie</strong>f systems would interfere now. How<br />
else could it be done? What is needed is a setting which represents the world as<br />
complete — not actually so, but apparently so — an image: it would also have to<br />
be empty —it should not arouse attention: TV, art or scenery satisfy these<br />
conditions: they work for many people: but they don‘t abolish my attention, not<br />
any more, anyway. I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve the part can represent the whole: an image<br />
always remains itself while it represents the whole; the image cannot avoid drawing<br />
attention to itself as a mere part of the reality it represents. Nor can I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve,<br />
because I cannot grasp the whole, that reality is complete; my attention is always<br />
drawn to the contradictions: wealth and poverty, hot and cold, life and death; and<br />
to the inadequac<strong>ie</strong>s, language, the life of man, faith and bel<strong>ie</strong>f,<br />
How then can it be done?<br />
There are some letters for you, Lotty,<br />
Letters?... Five, six, seven... What?<br />
The death notice... In yesterday‘s Times...<br />
That‘s Anne Purley‘s handwriting... And Keith Jackson... Doctor Clifford... You<br />
left the phone off the book yesterday?... I noticed it when I went out to check the post.<br />
I didn‘t know what to say, Dan... Did you put it back on?<br />
No... I guessed your reason... You should try to face them, Lotty... It‘s part of<br />
mourning... You had only to thank them.<br />
For what?<br />
Their condolences... They would have said they were sorry to read of it... They<br />
would have told you what they remember of Alice,<br />
No... I wouldn‘t have liked that, Dan,<br />
They meant well, Lotty. They want to support you... That‘s what fr<strong>ie</strong>nds are for,<br />
you know.<br />
They have written instead.<br />
Will you reply?<br />
205
Reply?... What will I say?<br />
Thank them... We‘ll get a card printed.<br />
Thank them for what, Dan?<br />
For their condolences, Lotty... As I have said...<br />
Because they bel<strong>ie</strong>ve mother is dead?<br />
Lotty, not again... Look, I‘ll do it for you. I‘ll see to it tomorrow... But you<br />
shouldn‘t avoid your obligations like this... It‘s bad for you.<br />
Why? I think it is nonsensical, Dan... Why should I thank them for telling me<br />
something that isn‘t true?<br />
For them it is, Lotty.<br />
I‘m not talking about them, Dan... It‘s a charade. I would be insincere if I thanked<br />
them for telling me something that is not true.<br />
Lotty, make a distinction between the public and the private. Whatever you may<br />
feel privately, your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds bel<strong>ie</strong>ve the death notice in the paper... You must too.<br />
You mean I must act in public to support a l<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
It‘s not a l<strong>ie</strong>, Lotty... I know how you feel.<br />
What did you do?<br />
Uncle Paul had a card printed... He sent them to all the people who had written...<br />
And I think to everyone who attended the funeral.<br />
You are going to do that; for me, aren‘t you?<br />
I will... But I didn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve their condolences were a l<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
Didn‘t you?<br />
I couldn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve them, that‘s true... I couldn‘t act as though they were true... But<br />
I didn‘t deny them, as you want to do.<br />
If you didn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve them, Dan, how can you say they weren‘t a l<strong>ie</strong>?<br />
Lotty, I didn‘t force the issue, as you seem to be doing... It was a convention that I<br />
went along with... Lotty, it will make sense afterwards, I promise you.<br />
But if I act as though mother were really dead, what effect will that have on me?<br />
How do you mean?<br />
If I deny mother... Dan, I can‘t deny her!<br />
Oh Lotty, you are making it so difficult for yourself.<br />
It is difficult!<br />
Come down to breakfast... You must, Lotty... The funeral is in an hour‘s time.<br />
Dan... We have no suitable clothing for the funeral.<br />
Clothing?... What on earth do you mean?<br />
One must wear black at a funeral.<br />
I hadn‘t thought of that... When did you realise that?<br />
This morning... It came to me quite suddenly.<br />
Damn!... But we must go, Lotty.<br />
How can we?<br />
Don‘t be ridiculous, Lotty... There‘s no time now to get suitable clothes... We‘ll<br />
have to make do.<br />
I can‘t do that, Dan.<br />
Why not?... You can wear some other dark colour... I have dark trousers.<br />
No, Dan.<br />
206
But you have to go to your own mother‘s funeral.<br />
I have nothing to wear.<br />
I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you, Lotty... I know for a fact that you have a grey dress, You<br />
could wear that... You don‘t want to go. Isn‘t that it?<br />
And there‘s Brian, Dan. Who will take care of him while we are out?<br />
It will be an hour only... Let him sleep. We did that last night... But we could<br />
bring him, Lotty.<br />
Brian?... You can‘t bring an infant to a funeral.<br />
Why not?<br />
It would be incongruous, Dan<br />
Then let him sleep here. He won‘t waken until noon,<br />
No... I couldn‘t leave him and go to a funeral,<br />
But it is your mother‘s funeral, Lotty.<br />
Don‘t press me, Dan... Please.<br />
Lotty, you‘ve lost all sense of proportion... Since last Saturday you have been<br />
hiding out here...<br />
Dan.<br />
No!... You have retreated into a phantasy world just so you can go on bel<strong>ie</strong>ving<br />
that your mother is not dead... You can‘t spend the rest of your life like this, you know.<br />
Sooner or later you will have to re-enter soc<strong>ie</strong>ty, Lotty... Then you will have to act as<br />
though your mother is dead... And it will always be noticed that you didn‘t attend your<br />
mother‘s funeral.<br />
I don‘t care!<br />
You are being wilful now. Like a child... People will think you are a coward,<br />
Lotty!<br />
No! No! No!... Stop it, Dan... Why can‘t you see my side, Dan?... I have always<br />
stood by you, whether you were right or wrong.<br />
How do you mean?... You were never expected to live a phantasy.<br />
You refused to go to Cambridge, Dan... I wasn‘t marr<strong>ie</strong>d to you then, yet I stood<br />
by your decision, even though people said that you were an egotist and a coward... Do<br />
you know that, Dan?... They said you wanted to be a big fish in a small pond.<br />
I never cared what people thought of my decision. I knew why I took it.<br />
That‘s how I feel, Dan.<br />
No!... It‘s not the same thing. I made a choice among real options in a real<br />
everyday world... You are choosing between phantasy and reality.<br />
And what do you think your decision to go to politics was?<br />
Not phantasy, Lotty.<br />
But people thought it was a silly choice... Dan, politics?<br />
You talk as though I chose to become a salesman or shopkeeper... It was a<br />
perfectly respectable choice.<br />
But those horrible shifty people with their denims and canvas bags!... Most of<br />
them are stupid... You‘ve said that yourself.<br />
Not stupid, Lotty... They are not stupid... Do you realise they need higher grades<br />
to get into politics?... You don‘t... Their minds are open and sceptical... They have<br />
futures, Lotty... History only becomes important when one has no future.<br />
207
Have you a future, Dan?... You stud<strong>ie</strong>d history.<br />
I want a future!<br />
Dan!... I‘ve never heard you speak with such passion before.<br />
You annoyed me, Lotty... Sometimes your class consciousness infuriates me...<br />
You don‘t seem to realise that class consciousness is only a defence... It‘s a prison.<br />
And you are not class conscious?<br />
Not as you are. Not as a matter of reaction... I have values, I suppose... Now... I‘m<br />
going down to breakfast, Lotty... Then I am going to pay my last respects to your mother,<br />
Lotty... Don‘t do something you might regret for the rest of your life...<br />
Oh, Misses MacLane... I‘ve just left the dictionary down... Thank you.<br />
Are you sure you‘re finished with it, Mister Butler?... The girls are not using it...<br />
The summer holidays.<br />
No, I don‘t think I will need it again... It‘s fairly comprehensive, Misses<br />
MacLane... I‘m sure they find it very useful.<br />
I encourage them to use it... But... they‘re more concerned about getting jobs than<br />
they are about studying.<br />
I can imagine... Perhaps conditions will have improved by the time they leave<br />
school.<br />
That‘s what I tell them... But I don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it, Mister Butler... There are too<br />
many... others.<br />
Perhaps they will go to university.<br />
Sorcha doesn‘t want to. She can‘t wait to leave school... But Orla... She‘s my<br />
youngest... she‘ll go. She‘s the brightest... It‘s a pity it‘s raining... You can‘t go out.<br />
Yes... Perhaps it will clear later.<br />
The weather forecast said it would.<br />
Good.<br />
Do you want something to eat?<br />
No... Afterwards.<br />
Take some warm water... Here. I‘ll fix it... About a pint... Otherwise you‘ll feel<br />
parched... Uncomfortable.<br />
What time is it?<br />
About half ten... We‘ll go now... Is Brian asleep?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good choice.<br />
What is?<br />
The dress... Cream... And the violet scarf.<br />
Do you think so?... It‘s what I felt I should wear... As though.<br />
Yes... I found a black t<strong>ie</strong>... at least.<br />
208
No... You look well... Green... Yes... Dan, I can‘t stand this mourning, you<br />
know... It‘s fatalistic.<br />
Mmh... Perhaps you‘re right... Drink another glass… Don‘t force it... Let it flow<br />
down... That‘s it...<br />
It‘s refreshing... Where do you learn these things?<br />
I don‘t know. It seemed the thing to do... The body needs a lot of water, it seems...<br />
Shall we go?<br />
Yes.<br />
There won‘t be much to it, you know, Lotty... It will be over in minutes.<br />
You were right, Dan.<br />
About what?<br />
About regretting for the rest of my life... You made me realise that I must do it,<br />
It‘s difficult to have that perspective at a time like this... Perhaps I was luck<strong>ie</strong>r. I<br />
respected Uncle Paul enough to do what he told me... Without question, I mean... I<br />
couldn‘t have that kind of authority for you... If you had a relation to take over.<br />
But you made me see it, Dan... After a struggle...<br />
You can he stubborn, Lotty.<br />
Why not?... I felt extremely wilful... And I still do.<br />
I‘ve never seen you like this before, Lotty.<br />
Touché... Before I came down... after I had decided to come... I realised<br />
something...<br />
What?... Don‘t leave me guessing.<br />
I was wilful and you were very intense... And we are surprised at that... Do you<br />
know, Dan... we don‘t know how to behave as private people.<br />
Private people?<br />
It‘s probably because we had no brothers or sisters... We‘re not used to showing<br />
our private selves... Nor do we know what people are like privately... Do you?<br />
My parents...<br />
Were they private with you?<br />
Not towards me... I‘ll tell you something... I was about ten or so, One night I<br />
couldn‘t sleep... I think I was too hot in bed... it was summer... Anyway, I lay there...<br />
Suddenly I heard the most awful moaning cry. It sent shivers up my spine... I didn‘t know<br />
what it was... I lay tense, listening intently... Then I heard muffled sobs... Absolutely<br />
heart-rending sobs, Lotty... After a while I realised it was my mother... I crept into the<br />
corridor, but all I could hear were low catching sobs and the drone of my father‘s voice...<br />
I never mentioned it to them... The fact that I had heard it, I mean... And they never<br />
mentioned it to me...<br />
Did you ever find out what it was about?<br />
Never.<br />
You must have been very curious?<br />
Not really... After a while I didn‘t really want to know what it was about... I was<br />
afraid it would he too terrible... I began to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that being adult must be an appalling<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... You know, unimaginable pain and suffering.<br />
Is it?<br />
209
Mmm?... It‘s not that had... There is a balance. If there is greater pain, we also<br />
have greater strengths to hear it... Like the Stoic saying... That nature has prepared us for<br />
whatever it might inflict upon us.<br />
I think children are far more vulnerable.<br />
Yes... I was thinking that too... But I expect we bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that because we are adults<br />
now..<br />
Mother was private... The difference between her public image and her private<br />
self was immense... You saw that, didn‘t you?<br />
To some extent... Especially in the last year.<br />
She was so throwaway in public... People often bel<strong>ie</strong>ved she was blasé... But in<br />
private... especially after daddy d<strong>ie</strong>d... she could be... well, weird... Perhaps I‘m like<br />
her... Sometimes she would talk about the most unusual things... For mother, I mean...<br />
The last time I was with her she talked about telepathy... of all things... Actually... I‘ve<br />
just remembered, Dan...<br />
What?<br />
Brian... She wanted to prove to me that telepathy was possible... Do you know<br />
what she did... She did it with such seriousness... She said she would tell Brian that she<br />
loved him. We had an argument about how she could do that... Brian wouldn‘t understand<br />
the words...<br />
How did she do it?<br />
How do you know she did it? Have I told you this before?<br />
No... Go on.<br />
She decided to project an image to him... What she called a loving light...<br />
And?<br />
I was holding Brian... He kicked at that moment... Precisely, Dan... No. He<br />
couldn‘t see mother... I almost bel<strong>ie</strong>ved she had done it.<br />
How do you explain the fact that he kicked at just that moment?<br />
Oh... Oh, Dan.<br />
Hey!... Lotty...<br />
No... It‘s alright... No... Dan... I do bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it... I do... She could do it, Dan...<br />
Lotty... Bear up, sweetheart... We‘re almost there... Yes, of course...<br />
Here... Borrow my handkerch<strong>ie</strong>f... Ah, there‘s the very reverend... We have a few<br />
minutes. He‘s coming over, Lotty...<br />
I‘m alright, Dan... Be pleasant, won‘t you? We did invite him...<br />
Sure, Lotty, Don‘t worry... Good morning, Reverend Clarke...<br />
Good morning, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... How are you, Charlotte? Such a burden.<br />
Will you sit in out of the rain... There are a few minutes yet.<br />
Thank you, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... What a morning... It should clear... according to the forecast<br />
this morning...<br />
Thank you for coming, Paul.<br />
Oh think nothing of it, Charlotte, I‘m only too glad to offer what service I can.<br />
The... Spirit, my dear...<br />
Dan.<br />
Yes, Lotty?<br />
Is there an umbrella in the car?<br />
210
harm.<br />
I don‘t know. Didn‘t you bring one?<br />
No. I forgot.<br />
So did I.<br />
You can borrow mine,<br />
Oh no, Paul. You will get soaked.<br />
I have a jacket.<br />
That‘s very good of you, Reverend Clarke... Lotty‘s dress.<br />
Yes... Yes... I‘ll get it... It‘s almost eleven...<br />
Are you sure there isn‘t an umbrella, Dan?<br />
Yes, I‘m sure.<br />
Paul will catch pneumonia.<br />
The Spirit can protect him.<br />
Don‘t be blasphemous, Dan.<br />
If I had a Spirit, Lotty, I‘d make sure it could protect me.<br />
Stop it!... This is a solemn occasion.<br />
That you didn‘t want to come to... Anyway, here it is.<br />
Charlotte. Dan... Here you are.<br />
Are you sure, Paul?<br />
Certainly, Charlotte... I am the servant of the Spirit, Charlotte. I will come to no<br />
See?<br />
Shh... Thank you, Paul, I really am very grateful to you...<br />
Only too glad, Charlotte... Ah, here‘s the... your mother...<br />
Dan.<br />
Tony!... Good... You‘ve got a brolly... Will you give the Reverend Clarke some<br />
shelter?<br />
Sure... How‘s the head?<br />
What head? Thanks.<br />
What does he mean?<br />
I met him in a public house last night.<br />
You didn‘t tell me you had gone out.<br />
For a couple of pints... Clear the head... I met Tony and a fr<strong>ie</strong>nd of his from<br />
London... Interesting... Tell you about it... Here‘s Maire.<br />
Oh, Charlotte, how are you?... I am very sorry... She was such a great woman.<br />
Thank you, Maire... It‘s good of you to come... Such weather...<br />
Used to it by now... Morning, Dan,<br />
Where‘s the bike?<br />
Behind that hedge.<br />
Don‘t you have protection from the rain?<br />
Well... Unless I wear my cycling cape... I thought there would be an abundance of<br />
umbrellas.<br />
Two only... That‘s too had, Maire,<br />
Oh I‘ll share with Charlotte.<br />
What about me?<br />
Won‘t do you any harm.<br />
211
Dan.<br />
No. It‘s okay.<br />
Thank you, Dan... I always said you were a gentleman.<br />
You did not.<br />
Not in your hearing. But bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me I have said it once or twice.<br />
Come on, Let‘s go... The connotations...<br />
You‘ll get wet, Dan.<br />
Won‘t I, Tony?<br />
Do we have to carry it?<br />
Good Lord, no, Mister Hackett...<br />
Let‘s go then... Yes?... Right... Thank you... These people know what to do...<br />
Lotty, you should walk in front... Will you go with her, Maire?<br />
Yes. Let‘s, Charlotte...<br />
... the public service, Mister Hackett, Sometimes the departmental...<br />
Should we sing a hymn, Dan?<br />
I don‘t know, Maire... I‘ve never heard singing. At least...<br />
The De Profundis, Maire.<br />
Perhaps not... Dan?<br />
No... Perhaps.<br />
There would be a certain propr<strong>ie</strong>ty, you know, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, Charlotte... They used to...<br />
with great fervour, I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve...<br />
Presbyterians?<br />
Oh not just... My father told me... It helps to channel the gr<strong>ie</strong>f, you know.<br />
Perhaps we don‘t have that far to walk, Reverend Clarke.<br />
... aures tuae intendentes, in vocem deprecationis...<br />
Tony!<br />
Yes, Maire?<br />
Do shut up.<br />
The occasion moves me... Perhaps Fauré, then... Libera me...<br />
You should have been a pr<strong>ie</strong>st, Tony.<br />
Better fun pretending, Dan.<br />
But you do certainly know the services of your church, Mister Hackett... There‘s a<br />
lot to be said for that...<br />
Do you want to come under here for a while, Dan?<br />
It‘s alright, Maire... I think it is easing.<br />
The weather forecast said it would clear...<br />
How are you, Lotty?<br />
Fine, Dan... It‘s going rather well, isn‘t it?<br />
Yes... Like a bomb...<br />
It‘s turning!<br />
Where?<br />
To the right.<br />
Thanks, Maire.<br />
Right turn, Tony.<br />
See that... You‘re getting wet, Dan.<br />
212
Appropriate, perhaps.<br />
Why?<br />
Tell you again... Do you know Tony, Reverend Clarke?... He‘s a graduate of<br />
College too.<br />
I thought his face was familiar... But I didn‘t want to ask... Too clubby... People<br />
are terribly offended if they are not... What did you study, Mister Hackett?<br />
Tony... His name is Tony... Is that alright, Tony?<br />
Yes, Sure.<br />
And the Reverend Clarke is Paul... Paul?<br />
Yes, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... Tony.<br />
He‘s ar cee, you know.<br />
I do...<br />
He stud<strong>ie</strong>d history... Tony, I, and Maire... Have you met Maire?<br />
Maire?<br />
I‘ll introduce you... She‘s doing a Master‘s at the moment.<br />
Left turn!<br />
We‘ll never find our way out...<br />
Paul will guide us...<br />
Dan.<br />
Excuse me... Yes, Lotty?<br />
What are you saying to Paul? He‘s embarrassed.<br />
I was introducing him to Tony... He‘s embarrassed because Tony is a Roman<br />
Catholic.<br />
Dan! Stop it.<br />
I can‘t help it, Lotty...<br />
He‘s just a natural rebel, Charlotte... That‘s why he is such a dear... Slowing<br />
down.<br />
Oh, I remember... That pillar there... The Eagletons... I went over to look at it...<br />
We‘re here then?<br />
Yes, Dan... Dan.<br />
Bear up, sweetheart... You have your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds with you.<br />
And you?<br />
Of course,<br />
Darling.<br />
Paul?<br />
Yes, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?... Oh, we should let them unload... prepare the... you know... the<br />
grave...<br />
Very well... Hold on... Hello... Is there someone to help you?<br />
Yes, sir. Here they are. The gravediggers...<br />
Good... We‘ll wait over there,<br />
Won‘t be long, sir.<br />
Thank you.<br />
The jay cee bee lurks over there, Dan.<br />
One always thinks of Hamlet at this moment, no?<br />
Or Leopold Bloom.<br />
213
Or a drink...<br />
Shh...<br />
The service won‘t take long, Charlotte... Then it will be over.<br />
Thank you, Paul...<br />
Ah, now... Paul?<br />
Let us line the grave along one side... Charlotte, if you will come to the foot...<br />
Maire can share Tony‘s brolly...<br />
You, Dan.<br />
I‘m alright, Lotty.<br />
Now... We are gathered here as fr<strong>ie</strong>nds of Misses Alice Jameson... Gathered with<br />
her loving daughter, Charlotte... And her husband, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... We are gathered to bid<br />
farewell to this fine, upstanding woman, confident of her goodness and excellence in her<br />
mortal life... And with confident hope and joy on her departure from this world...<br />
Brethren... I HEARD A VOICE FROM HEAVEN, SAYING, WRITE THIS... HAPPY<br />
ARE THE DEAD WHO DIE IN THE FAITH OF CHRIST... HENCEFORTH, SAYS<br />
THE SPIRIT... THEY MAY REST FROM THEIR LABOURS... FOR THEY TAKE<br />
WITH THEM THE RECORD OF THEIR DEEDS... Pray then, dear fr<strong>ie</strong>nds, with hope<br />
and joy for Alice Jameson, for she does rest with the Spirit today... AND GOD WILL<br />
SHOW US THE PATH OF LIFE... IN HIS PRESENCE IS THE FULLNESS OF JOY...<br />
AND AT HIS RIGHT HAND THERE IS PLEASURE FOR EVERMORE. Amen...<br />
Charlotte?<br />
Yes, Paul?<br />
A little of the clay, perhaps... No... It‘s wet... Ah, thank you... On this... That‘s it...<br />
Now, it is done, Charlotte... Pray a little while...<br />
Lotty?<br />
Mmm.<br />
Let her pray, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... It‘s a bitter moment for the survivors... You should pray,<br />
too, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l...<br />
How does one pray, Reverend Clarke?<br />
You let it go, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... It‘s in you all the time... Let go... The Spirit in you will rise<br />
up to meet the Spirit above...<br />
... sustinuit anima mea in verbo...<br />
Hhn.<br />
... ejus, speravit anima mea in domino...<br />
Try it, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... What are you afraid of? You have little faith... You don‘t know<br />
that you cannot he refused...<br />
Dan<br />
Yes, Charlotte?<br />
Shall we go now?... Paul?<br />
Yes... Assuredly... Tony... And...<br />
This is Maire MacMahon... Maire...<br />
Hello, Paul...<br />
Hello, Maire.<br />
I heard you had been appointed...<br />
Only nine months ago... I‘ve been so busy, you know,<br />
214
But you‘ll come again next year?<br />
Of course... I look forward to it... Will you give a talk this year?<br />
Where?<br />
The History Soc<strong>ie</strong>ty, Dan... You haven‘t been there for over eight years...<br />
That‘s because they don‘t throw any wine part<strong>ie</strong>s now... When we were...<br />
I know, Tony... I‘ve seen the accounts...<br />
Biggest attendances, Maire...<br />
It wasn‘t history...<br />
But it was fun, Maire...<br />
I don‘t know how you ever became an academic, Dan White...<br />
Scribble, scribble, Maire... They weighed it...<br />
Dan.<br />
Charlotte...<br />
Darling...<br />
Yes... I see... We had better go... Will you come back to the house, Paul?... For a<br />
moment...<br />
Yes... I‘ll follow you... Can I offer anyone a lift?... Maire?<br />
She has her bike.<br />
Tony?<br />
I‘m parked outside... But I better skip off...<br />
You haven‘t started yet?<br />
No... Keep putting it off... Charley...<br />
Tony... Thank you for coming...<br />
I am sorry about your mother... It was so sudden,<br />
Thank you, Tony.<br />
I‘ll come and see you soon if I may.<br />
Yes... Do that... Dan?<br />
Sure. Look... Will you come Saturday evening, Tony... About eight?... Maire?...<br />
Would you come too... Drinks... Buffet... We‘ll organise something.<br />
Are you sure, Dan?<br />
Yes, Maire... Lotty, we should, you know... Right or wrong, I mean.<br />
Yes. Do.<br />
Paul?... Can you come?...<br />
And bring your girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd, Paul.<br />
May I, Charlotte?... Yes, that would he nice... About eight?... Perhaps I could help<br />
prepare...<br />
No, Paul... This will he a party... A party?... And Tony... will you ask your<br />
fr<strong>ie</strong>nd... Richard... to come?... That is if he‘s not otherwise engaged... He‘s a writer,<br />
Lotty... You‘ll like him... Maire?<br />
Goody, I like writers...<br />
He‘s not an exhibitionist, Maire...<br />
I‘ll still like him, Tony... They‘re so stimulating...<br />
You will ask him, Tony?... Only if he is free, now.<br />
I‘ll ask him... I don‘t think he‘s going back until Sunday at the earl<strong>ie</strong>st... This will<br />
be like old times... Are you sure, Charley?<br />
215
Yes, Tony... I think it is a good idea.<br />
We‘ll do it for Brian... That‘s our son, Paul.<br />
Yes... I certainly will look forward to that...<br />
That‘s settled then... Eight o‘clock... Well, let‘s go... We have done here.<br />
Oh look... The main entrance... We found our way back...<br />
Of course... Where is your bike, Maire?<br />
Here.<br />
You locked it?<br />
Th<strong>ie</strong>very here too... Nothing is sacred anymore...<br />
I‘ll go on, Dan... Charley... I‘ll see you on Saturday... Oh, I nearly forgot... Dan,<br />
those notes... They‘re in the car...<br />
Paul, help Maire with her cape... She‘ll smother... I had forgotten about them,<br />
Tony.<br />
I thought you might... Hang on... They‘re fairly legible... They should he selfexplanatory...<br />
Actually, they look superb...<br />
I have to do secretary sometimes... Clear notes... Very important...<br />
Historical?<br />
Something like that, Dan... Read them in a hundred years time...<br />
Will you get a footnote in the new Treaty?<br />
Fat luck... Hey<br />
It‘s okay, I‘ll keep it qu<strong>ie</strong>t... By the way, did you notice that Northern journalist in<br />
the pub last night?<br />
Where was he?<br />
At the end of the bar... He was keeping out of sight.<br />
Was he?... Thanks for telling me, Dan... You will keep it to yourself?<br />
Trust me, Tony... I trusted you, didn‘t I?<br />
Don‘t be ironic, Dan... I‘m not a private citizen.<br />
Sure... Thanks for these.<br />
What will you do?<br />
Are you asking as a public servant?<br />
No... It‘s none of my public servant‘s business... Not at the moment yet, anyway,<br />
I don‘t know, Tony... I honestly don‘t... Perhaps we can talk about it some time.<br />
Yes... It would be interesting... You should approach one of the papers.<br />
You think so?... Is that provocation?<br />
Could be... Anyway, we‘ll talk about it,<br />
Obviously you can help me approach one of the papers.<br />
I can... I‘ll go... Take care of Charley, won‘t you... It‘s very sad... Oh and here.<br />
You might be interested in reading this.<br />
What is...<br />
Dick‘s book. I thought you might like to read it.<br />
I will... Thanks for the other, Tony.<br />
Dan!... See you!<br />
Bye, Maire.<br />
Are you very wet, Dan?<br />
216
Not too bad... I‘ll put the heater on... Look, it‘s clearing... The rain will have<br />
stopped by the time we get back to Carlisle Avenue... Where‘s Paul?<br />
He went on... He thought Tony and Maire were coming back... He‘ll come on<br />
Saturday.<br />
Good... Let‘s get in out of this rain...<br />
Ohh... Dan, that was absurd.<br />
Think so?... Ah... That‘s good.<br />
You‘re cold.<br />
Chilly... You?<br />
Chilly... It was so unruly... I almost laughed out at times... I wonder what the<br />
workmen thought of us.<br />
Bad example?<br />
Decadence... You can be very riotous, you know... You must be repressed.<br />
That goes for all of us then... Actually, no one knew how to mourn... Have you<br />
realised that?... Not even Paul Clarke.<br />
You addressed him as Paul... I‘m glad... He means well, Dan.<br />
I can see that... Actually, his graveside manner is rather good... Quite spontaneous.<br />
Perhaps it‘s just as well no older people were there.<br />
Yes. No dust to dust etcetera... Has he got a girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd?<br />
Yes... I‘ve never met her... Why?<br />
Have you noticed? The eroticism in his spiritualism... I got the impression he was<br />
praying that your mother has gone to the perfumed garden... It was almost palpable.<br />
No wonder you want to have a party.<br />
That‘s to reintroduce you... us... to the world.<br />
I thought that wouldn‘t be until October?<br />
Looks like the schedule has been changed.<br />
Is there something troubling you?<br />
No... Do you think there might he?<br />
Your conversation with Tony... You looked very serious.<br />
Oh that... He gave me the notes he made down in Connemara... Where?... Here<br />
they‘re creased... I was sitting on them... He thinks I should go to one of the papers...<br />
He‘ll fix it.<br />
He bel<strong>ie</strong>ves you?... These notes are very good.<br />
Aren‘t they?... He‘s had practice apparently... But I don‘t know whether he<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ves me or not... Let‘s say he would like my theory publicised.<br />
Why?<br />
Perhaps he wants to see what would happen... No!<br />
Why have you stopped?<br />
Why does he want it publicised, Lotty?<br />
You think there is a specific reason?<br />
He‘s a middling senior civil servant, Lotty... He‘s not doing this off his own bat...<br />
And that journalist... I‘d say he was some kind of republican.<br />
What journalist?<br />
A guy who came to see me about neutrality last week... In College... What is<br />
Tony up to?<br />
217
Something sinister again?<br />
Tom Spencer... That sergeant kept saying there was no evidence... The Guards are<br />
not interested in what happened to him... because... If he was up to something it would<br />
have been against Dublin‘s interest... The theory, yes... But me?<br />
What are you talking about?<br />
Is it the theory or is it me?<br />
Oh what is it, Dan?<br />
Which does Tony want publicised?... Me or the theory?... But I don‘t see the<br />
point in putting me on the spot... West Brit prod reveals threat to Irish neutrality?... But<br />
that is surely incidental to the threat itself...<br />
Drive on, Dan... You‘re in the middle of the road.<br />
Mmm?... Oh yes... Look, Lotty, read some of that, will you?<br />
Which part?<br />
Any part... The first page.<br />
Okay... Sightings of unexplained flights along west coast of Ireland. Saturday the<br />
third of August nineteen eighty five. Observation point, west end of Leiter Hill, Renvyle.<br />
Altitude one thousand feet. Using eight by fifty binoculars. Afternoon. Weather.<br />
Infrequent showers. Variable cloud. Visibility bracket estimated north up Mayo coast end<br />
bracket six to ten miles between showers. One. Fourteen twenty. Jet trail. Southwards.<br />
Approx ten miles off coast. No distinguishing features. Estimated speed. Five hundred em<br />
pee aitch plus. Shower. Sky in observed area partially clouded from fourteen fifty-five,<br />
totally clouded from fifteen ten until fifteen twenty, partially clouded until fifteen twentyfive.<br />
Two. Fifteen forty. Jet trail. Southwards. Approx ten miles out. Reflecting sunlight<br />
indicates high tail. Est speed five hundred plus. Three. Fifteen forty-five. Jet trail.<br />
Northwards. Approx ten miles out. Lower altitude than one or two. Sweep-wing aircraft.<br />
High tail. Four engines. Speed. Less than five hundred. Note. Aircraft approaching<br />
sighting three from north. Aircraft, ar aye eff Nimrod bracket positive identification end<br />
bracket. Below vapour height. Closer to shore. Continued south. Four. Sixteen thirty. Jet<br />
trail. Northwards. Less than ten miles out. Higher altitude than one or two. No details of<br />
craft. Speed five hundred plus. Note. Aircraft following at lower altitude. No vapour.<br />
Over ten miles out. Nimrod returning bracket surmise end bracket. Speed less than<br />
sighting four...<br />
Hold it, Lotty... Thanks... The box... Tony said the Nimrod flew in a box... There<br />
must be a second Nimrod in the pattern.<br />
Will I read on?<br />
No... Anyway we‘re almost at Carlisle Avenue.<br />
This is the proof?<br />
One half of it... But I don‘t have the second half... I never made any notes.<br />
Oh Dan... And Tony has gone to this trouble.<br />
Anyone can do it... From Killiney Hill... Here we are... Come on.<br />
It‘s stopped raining.<br />
Yes... I‘ll lock it... You go on.<br />
Here‘s the sun... Thank goodness.<br />
Brian.<br />
I‘ll go... He‘s hungry.<br />
218
Bring him down, Lotty... He‘s been up there for days... I‘ll fix some lunch.<br />
Hush now.<br />
He looks very put out... Too used to getting served on time... What would you like<br />
to eat?<br />
Will you make a salad... I‘ll feed Brian now... No. I don‘t want an egg.<br />
No eggs then... Cheese?<br />
Is there any cottage cheese left?<br />
Mmm... Yes.<br />
I must do some shopping. The fridge looks very bare.<br />
I‘ve been eating my way through it.<br />
You should do some work, Dan.<br />
Do I look as though I need to?<br />
Yes. You‘re a bit adrift. I can feel it... Do you good to concentrate on something...<br />
How is it going?<br />
Finally getting around to language... A few more days.<br />
Is that it then?<br />
I have to connect it with my other arguments.<br />
Will that take long?<br />
I don‘t know... Depends on what is involved.<br />
Don‘t you know?... I mean don‘t you know what your paper is about?<br />
I know what I want it to be about. But I‘m not sure yet if I can prove it.<br />
Why?<br />
I want to develop the conclusion of my thesis... You remember?... That language<br />
is fundamental in human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce?... You see I will have to show what the<br />
fundamentality, as it were, of language is...<br />
And?<br />
I suspect it has something to do with the idea of a perfect language.<br />
What‘s wrong with that?<br />
Frege seems to think that a perfect language is impossible... That means I cannot<br />
show what a language-in-itself is.<br />
Is he right?<br />
I don‘t know yet. I haven‘t followed his argument through... But I have the<br />
feeling that if one could... well... reach language-in-itself... language would in some way<br />
collapse.<br />
Collapse?<br />
Yes... It would collapse into something else... This is just intuition or a feeling I<br />
have... I don‘t know how to tackle it... But that something else would be just one thing...<br />
or object or something...<br />
Go on... It‘s interesting.<br />
Okay... I feel that a perfect language is just one word... not a word in the usual<br />
sense... more a kind of meaning... And at the same time it is also an object... something<br />
objective.<br />
What object?<br />
I don‘t know... I don‘t think it is conceivable.<br />
Like God?<br />
219
The Logos?... No. That‘s too discursive... It would be... No... Any word I could<br />
use would be inadequate... Anyway... if that is true, then I couldn‘t possibly prove that<br />
language is fundamental... But at the same time I couldn‘t prove that anything else is<br />
fundamental... Can you see that, Lotty?... Anything else would simply point to language...<br />
It all hangs together in the air... It‘s like a table whose legs are language... You could<br />
indicate the legs and say they rested on the ground... supporting the table... but you<br />
couldn‘t show that the legs actually rested on the ground... I mean they are the only things<br />
which can support the table, but you couldn‘t prove that they actually do... Can you see<br />
that?<br />
Yes... Brian is watching you.<br />
Perhaps he is taking it all in... We‘ll make a philosopher of him... But it‘s an<br />
interesting problem.<br />
If you could show that there was ground beneath your table, Dan?... Would that<br />
help?<br />
I‘ve thought of that... The trouble is that the ground is the same thing as the legs...<br />
in a sense... The ground is the object connected with the perfect language, that is, the legs.<br />
What if the table could be said to rest on the ground directly?... I mean if the legs<br />
and the ground are the same thing.<br />
No... That would mean that there was no language... as you say, no legs... But<br />
there is language... so there are legs.<br />
Seems as though language gets in the way.<br />
But of what, Lotty?... Anyway, we couldn‘t say what it is that language blocks<br />
without using language.<br />
Mmm... He‘s full... I‘ll change him, Dan. Then I‘ll be with you.<br />
I‘ll make tea...<br />
Dan.<br />
Yes?<br />
Look. I‘m not a philosopher... But are you sure your example is the right one? I<br />
mean your example has three parts in it. The table, the legs and the ground...<br />
Go on.<br />
Perhaps because you assume there are three parts... That‘s why it is so<br />
complicated... Why couldn‘t there be only two parts?<br />
Such as?<br />
I‘m not sure... But language is always about something... We‘re talking about<br />
something now... Couldn‘t it be that? Say language and what it is about?<br />
Is what language is about something separate... distinct... from language?<br />
Yes. Of course... I‘ll leave Brian on the floor. He can see us... Are there no<br />
peppers?<br />
No... I‘ve put out everything I could find.<br />
I must get some... Thanks... This is fine... You see? There are only two things.<br />
Language and what it is about.<br />
No. There can be one thing, But there can never be two things...<br />
Whyever not?<br />
220
Because there is always a relation of some kind between any two things... If there<br />
wasn‘t, the two things would become two distinct one-things, as it were... You couldn‘t<br />
know about both of them, only about one,<br />
Are you serious?... I mean that seems to be a remarkable thing to say.<br />
I know... I‘ve just realised it... It means that there can never be a binary system...<br />
The move from unity must be to a ternary system... from one to three...<br />
But couldn‘t one thing have some other thing that would make two things?<br />
It can‘t be a relation, because there is nothing to relate to... which would be a third<br />
thing.<br />
That‘s very remarkable... For some reason, Dan.<br />
Isn‘t it?... At least it seems to be.<br />
What about your table then?... Which are the things and which the relation?<br />
Mmm?... Obviously the legs relate the table to the ground... That means that<br />
language is the relation... It relates the world to something like the truth...<br />
But you said the legs and the ground were the same thing.<br />
Only if the language were perfect, Lotty... Wait... But the truth is a relation<br />
between language and the world... Is the world a relation between language and truth?...<br />
No. There must be something wrong there... Frege says that truth can be judged of<br />
propositions... language... only. Not of the world... So the world can‘t be a relation... And<br />
language and truth can he alternative relations because they are fundamentally or ideally<br />
identical...<br />
Eat your lunch, Dan... You can think about that later.<br />
Mmm?... Yes... Yes!... Without the world language and truth would collapse into<br />
one thing. So it is because there is a world... actual objects... that the one thing appears<br />
both as a thing and a relation... But... No... Language is an articulation. Yes... There can<br />
be no perfect language because it would not be a language... it would be... just the true...<br />
What are you talking about, Dan?<br />
Not just the true... Frege calls it the thought, and the objective... it could be called<br />
other things too... Reason... mind... No... No... That‘s purely idealism... You can‘t<br />
possibly prove that... If language collapsed then there would be nothing for us... We can‘t<br />
escape language, Lotty... Can you see that?... There cannot be one thing alone for us...<br />
That would be solipsism as a kind of madness... Nor two. There must always be three<br />
things at least. Always this and that and the relation between them... And relations are a<br />
kind of articulation. So language is the relation... But what is related, Lotty?<br />
Dan.<br />
Sure... Please bear with me, Lotty.<br />
Go on... But don‘t tense yourself so... It can‘t be good for you.<br />
Yes... But let me finish... What is related?... Apparently the world and the true.<br />
But the true... if you were to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve Frege... doesn‘t depend in any way on the world... In<br />
any case it only connects with language... So can the world be true?... Apparently not...<br />
So what kind of relation does language establish?... Lotty, the truth and the world would<br />
seem to be mutually exclusive... But language exists... Language is either true, in which<br />
case it can have no connection with the world... Or else it is worldly... as it were... and<br />
therefore not true.<br />
But we can speak the truth, Dan... Do you deny that?<br />
221
No, Of course I don‘t... If we didn‘t then nothing would hold together... But,<br />
Lotty, when we speak the truth, what are we speaking about?... I mean it would seem that<br />
in speaking the truth we are not talking about the world, even though we bel<strong>ie</strong>ve we are...<br />
No. I don‘t understand that...<br />
Well look... It‘s true that the angles of a triangle sum to one eighty degrees... in<br />
Euclidean geometry anyway... What actual triangle am I talking about?<br />
Any triangle?<br />
Actual triangle... I‘ve stated the truth, but is there a triangle here?... Can you see<br />
one?<br />
No... But what about real things?... I mean isn‘t it true that mother d<strong>ie</strong>d last<br />
Saturday?<br />
But you don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that, Lotty,<br />
Oh... Then isn‘t it true that Brian was born on the twenty second of June last.<br />
Is it?... Apparently astrologers have argued for millennia about just when birth<br />
occurs... And Christians still haven‘t shown when the foetus becomes a human being... In<br />
the argument about abortion... Can you see? True statements are true not by reference to<br />
the actual world,<br />
Are you saying that no one is born?<br />
No... Of course not... We can talk about birth and know what we mean. But we<br />
can‘t pinpoint an actual event and say conclusively that that is the birth event... We can<br />
only agree in a general conventional way.<br />
And what is wrong is that?<br />
When we speak we seem to be referring to precise things... and events. But we<br />
cannot indicate those precise things or events in the actual world... the preciseness always<br />
seems to refer to something else, something outside... distinct... from the world... And yet<br />
language seems to be a relation anyway...<br />
Perhaps you should talk to someone trained in philosophy... Do you know anyone<br />
in College?<br />
Yes... But I‘m not sure it would help.<br />
Why not?... They might have answers to your problem.<br />
No... They would only be the things they had read or stud<strong>ie</strong>d... I‘ll tell you... I<br />
once gave MacBr<strong>ie</strong>n a paper on determination and materialism in Marxism. I reached a<br />
specific conclusion... But instead of discussing my proposal, do you know what he did?...<br />
He listed three kinds of determination for me and then picked one out as the one<br />
appropriate to Marxism...<br />
And?<br />
My theory was about open determination. His three theor<strong>ie</strong>s were all about closed<br />
determination.<br />
What does that mean?<br />
I had shown that one can say that aye is determinative, without saying what it<br />
determines. His theor<strong>ie</strong>s were about how aye determines bee... You see, Lotty, he didn‘t<br />
consider my argument at all, He merely shunted out one of the usual academic lists... He<br />
was content to use his knowledge rather than his capacity to think... That‘s why I‘m<br />
reluctant to go to any academic philosopher. He would probably give me a list of all the<br />
theor<strong>ie</strong>s that exist and leave it at that.<br />
222
But aren‘t you working on one of those theor<strong>ie</strong>s, Dan?<br />
In a way... But I‘m trying to think the problem out as though there was no existing<br />
solution... Academics are like theologians, they can‘t think unless they have the answer<br />
already... Whereas the point of thinking is to discover answers.<br />
But you are an academic... Why do you think you are different?<br />
That‘s why I keep switching disciplines... It keeps me feeling ignorant...<br />
Is that why you wouldn‘t go to Cambridge?<br />
Cambridge?... One of the reasons... Yes... But I was fed up with history... And...<br />
What?<br />
Well, I just didn‘t want to go, Lotty.<br />
Hut why not, Dan?<br />
Two reasons... I could do what I wanted to do here just as well as I could in<br />
Cambridge. The materials were here... The other thing is this, When it got round that I<br />
had been offered Cambridge, people began to treat me differently... It was as though they<br />
were talking to a shadow beside me... It was the shadow who was going to Cambridge,<br />
not me... Do you see? It was a mask... I didn‘t want to be lost behind a mask... Not that<br />
mask anyway... It was very sterile, Lotty.<br />
I understand... I thought you were afraid of Cambridge, Dan. Do you know that? I<br />
thought you had lost your nerve... I was disappointed. I thought I had seen your limit.<br />
But you seemed rel<strong>ie</strong>ved when I decided not to go... I assumed you were rel<strong>ie</strong>ved<br />
because you had been afraid I would go beyond you.<br />
Beyond me?... What made you think that?... I wanted what was best for you... It<br />
was a great honour,<br />
Even so, Lotty. You had an ambiguous attitude to it... Don‘t deny that... The<br />
honour was reflected on to you. You liked that... But you were also afraid that you<br />
couldn‘t match up to it. That you would lose your...<br />
Dan!... That was to be expected... I didn‘t know what would happen in<br />
Cambridge.<br />
Yes...<br />
You didn‘t really want to be an academic?<br />
It‘s a job and an income, It‘s better than most.<br />
But you don‘t accept it in the way... Well... Doctor Clifford for example does.<br />
No... I can‘t let myself be ruled by their dry scepticism... The more sceptical I<br />
become, Lotty, the more something else rises up... A resistance of sorts... As though<br />
something were true or real behind the scepticism... That feeling can be overwhelming at<br />
times, Lotty.<br />
Like faith?<br />
No... Faith is an attitude to answers... The feeling is not an answer is that way...<br />
It‘s more like a thing... an object... for which I have no name.<br />
What is it then?<br />
Some kind of state... that could take me over... Not a doctrine... Not verbal,<br />
Lotty... Anyway, there you are... Have I talked too much?... You know I don‘t mean to<br />
bore you.<br />
I know... It is interesting, Dan... Sometimes I see you is such a way that I‘m afraid<br />
I don‘t know you after all.<br />
223
Brian.<br />
Is this one of those times?<br />
Yes... I find the feeling you spoke about just now very al<strong>ie</strong>n.<br />
So do I...<br />
I had better go and do some shopping, Dan... I‘ll take the car... And I‘ll bring<br />
Do you want me to come?... You might have difficulty managing Brian and your<br />
shopping.<br />
No... I‘ll get someone at the supermarket to help... You do some work.<br />
Yes... Take your time, Lotty... I think I‘ll work in the garden for an hour or so<br />
first... Goodbye, old son... I haven‘t played with him for days... Come on... Come to your<br />
daddy... How are you, old son?... He‘s so sunny, Lotty...<br />
Isn‘t he?<br />
So bright... He brings a kind of happiness... I can feel it radiating from him.<br />
Oh, he‘s putting you at your ease, Dan... He loves you.<br />
And I love him... Mmm... His skin... Good boy, Brian...<br />
I‘ll take the harness,<br />
Will you be able to manage it?<br />
Yes... He‘s not too heavy... Come on, little man...<br />
Go to your mummy... Goodbye...<br />
See you, darling...<br />
Tony has changed: happened gradually over the years but now I can see it.<br />
He knows things about the world that he would prefer not to know and he tr<strong>ie</strong>s to<br />
prevent that knowledge from changing him. He doesn‘t want to lose his innocence<br />
— what I called his dilettantism last night (I shouldn‘t have said that to him — did<br />
he notice? — the word popped into my mind: but he has no talent really: he just<br />
wants the world to be as easy for him as it was as a child (or when I first met him<br />
— about sixteen or seventeen): I env<strong>ie</strong>d his blitheness then: now his apparent ease<br />
appears against a background which contradicts it: he is no longer ignorant of the<br />
world as he was when 16: How does he see me? His knowledge should make my<br />
work appear trivial: speculation where action is required; I am on the sideline,<br />
playing around: yet I suspect he sees an innocence in me: Does he think I have<br />
knowledge of the world? He must find innocence somewhere in the world, to give<br />
meaning to the innocence he tr<strong>ie</strong>s to preserve. But such an innocence as his is an<br />
immaturity: it stops short of the question of responsibility: he is a public servant:<br />
he wants to do what he is told — he has exploited that crazy journalist — and yet<br />
go home in the evening with the feeling that his hands are clean. But whose hands<br />
are clean?<br />
I must try to tell him that what I do is on the other side of his innocence,<br />
his lack of responsibility: language is not innocent: The word ‗death‘ is stained<br />
with all the death in the world; the word ‗life‘ is a mockery of all the botched lives<br />
in the world: how can they be used without feeling these contaminations? How<br />
could the word ‗love‘ be used without a chasm appearing around it? Tony can say<br />
224
that MacShane is not an informer, that he is merely an opportunistic journalist —<br />
how could he say this without feeling the gap between ‗informer‘ and<br />
‗opportunism‘, with all the tendentious lying impl<strong>ie</strong>d? He obviously thought I<br />
wouldn‘t see that; that I was probably too naive and too marginal (as artist) to<br />
notice. But, now that I know<br />
Yes?... Oh hello... What‘s that?<br />
Mammy told me to bring it up to you... It‘s lunch. She said you might be hungry.<br />
Yes. Put it there... No, Push them out of the way... That‘s very kind of your<br />
mother. Will you thank her for me...<br />
She said you should have the soup while it‘s hot... Are you a teacher?<br />
No, What makes you think that?<br />
Mammy said you were.<br />
Why?... Why should she?<br />
What do you do?<br />
Oh nothing much... Certainly not teaching... This looks delicious... You mother is<br />
very kind... Thank her for me, won‘t you?<br />
Would know instantly that White is an Irish protestant: he‘s driven<br />
forward by emotion: Tony is the educated Irish catholic, though influenced by<br />
secularism: There is a void in him created by an intellect which has been trained<br />
to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it knows the truth; a truth not of this world: he has been trained to<br />
distance himself from the world: White has been raised in a culture where God<br />
and the world are irreconcilable: his Protestant God is unknowable, a being of will<br />
— of election — and the world is not worth knowing: he is caught on the<br />
dilemma of submission and scepticism: being of the world, he feels rejected by his<br />
God (however conceived) and the world becomes valueless: aspiring to his God,<br />
he encounters his own nullity and that of the world. Caught between a power he<br />
cannot master and the void of his existence, he becomes an emotional straining,<br />
an intensity, that hurtles through the void like a rock through empty space.<br />
This is impossible: so there are inversions: he appropriates the mastership:<br />
the world becomes meaningful then only as a passive object of will: he becomes<br />
God: the straining intensity is then the expression of a desire to master everything<br />
he encounters: not will as such but an inescapable compulsion: not will because it<br />
is not free: The nullity then appears as the absence of purpose: the compulsion has<br />
no objective — it cannot have, because purpose remains divine — because he<br />
cannot know purpose because knowledge is impossible. (He only knows of<br />
purpose through will; while he can sublimate will, because there is a human<br />
simulacrum, he cannot grasp purpose, because he cannot see any human purpose,<br />
225
only human compulsion.) Even so, as the drives of the worldly being are<br />
sublimated as will-compulsion, so the mental powers of the worldly being are<br />
sublimated — but as knowledge of purpose is impossible, then all exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of<br />
motion, of activity, of ends, must be reduced to knowledge of static things, of<br />
instances. Knowledge becomes a distinct universe of abstract items, increments,<br />
and relations: ‗things‘ which are conceived as sensuous cop<strong>ie</strong>s of the appearances<br />
(only) of the world: There is no vitality, no livingness, only causes upon causes<br />
upon causes upon nullity. I said ‗life‘ and ‗death‘ to him and he repl<strong>ie</strong>d ‗death‘<br />
then I said ‗not death‘ and he went home.<br />
He doesn‘t approve of Tony, yet Tony looks up to him. Why? Tony<br />
wanted to show me off. Why?<br />
Frege says that the thought appears to logical analysis as the ‗paradigmatic<br />
object‘. Thus the object ‗stands for‘ the thought. It is for this reason that F insists<br />
that sensibility is not necessary for knowledge of objects: thoughts are not spatiotemporal<br />
and are not given to the senses. This means that an analysis of the nature<br />
of the object is an analysis of language and not of the world or being, that is, it is a<br />
matter of formal semantics, not of materialism or ontology.<br />
Linguistically, F calls the expression ‗standing for‘ the object a ‗proper<br />
name‘. F uses this term in a special sense and lists the four criteria which enable<br />
one to recognise a ‗proper name‘:<br />
1.The expression does not begin with an indefinite article. But not all expressions<br />
beginning with a definite article are necessarily proper names.<br />
2.The expression contains no free variables. That is, neither argument nor function<br />
can be replaced: the expression must always have the form (aA-fB); it cannot be<br />
changed to, say, (aC-fB) or (aA-fD).<br />
3. The expression cannot properly occur as a predicate in a sentence. But it can be<br />
part of a predicate.<br />
4.The expression can occur on the left or right of an identity sign and thereby form<br />
a complete sentence.<br />
Expressions that are proper names are therefore complete and carry<br />
identity conditions. This of course is the case, because proper names ‗stand for‘<br />
objects, and objects are thoughts. But given the inadequacy of human language,<br />
proper-name expressions are not complete nor do they carry identity conditions<br />
simply because they stand for objects-thoughts. The object-thought cannot appear<br />
directly in human linguistic expression, in the same way that the word ‗true‘<br />
cannot appear in a proposition judged to be true. (Note: A proposition judged to<br />
be true could contain the word ‗true‘, in which case the judgment adds the word<br />
‗true‘ so that ‗true‘ would appear twice.) Therefore, the ability of inadequate<br />
human language to formulate proper-name expressions must be derived from<br />
some place other than the area of thought.<br />
226
Is this ability a feature of language itself? In other words, in what way can<br />
linguistic expressions be complete and also carry identity conditions?<br />
In the first place, it is clear that an expression can be complete if it ‗stands<br />
for‘ an object-thought. This must be the case, for the thought can only be<br />
recognised and communicated in linguistic expressions. However, it is obvious,<br />
given the inadequacy of human language, that the expression stands for the<br />
thought in an inadequate way. Now, the proper name standing for the objectthought<br />
has the following characteristics. It is particular rather than general or<br />
universal: the object is a ‗thing-in-itself‘, specific and definite. It is in itself<br />
neither a function nor an argument. But while it can be a function in a sentence, it<br />
can only form a part of an argument. Thus a proper name is not operative: it<br />
cannot express a relation. Thus the proper name stands for the object-thought in<br />
two modes: in its specificity and in its absence of relations.<br />
However, while a proper name can appear immediately in its specificity,<br />
its supra-relational characteristic is not immediately evident. This is because<br />
human language is primarily an instrument of articulation and communication,<br />
rather than one of indication and specification. For this reason a proper name, in<br />
order to be meaningful in ordinary usage, will always appear in the context of<br />
predication or relation. Thus, in ordinary usage, proper names appear to be<br />
incomplete, and so a part of the fundamental inadequacy of human language.<br />
Moreover, the exceptional feature of a proper name which F isolates, that it<br />
cannot be a predicate, merely indicates its syntactical nature, not its essence as<br />
‗standing for‘ an object-thought.<br />
Thus, in ordinary usage and syntactically a proper name always appears in<br />
relation. This is the source of the meaningfulness of a proper name in human<br />
language. However, it is obvious that the meaningfulness of a proper name is not<br />
grounded in any particular statement in which it appears. On the contrary, a proper<br />
name contributes to the meaningfulness of the statement, it does this precisely<br />
because it stands for an object, and as such, because it is therefore complete, it<br />
acts as a determinant in the statement. This characteristic of a proper name, that it<br />
can appear with unchanging meaning in different statements, as active or passive,<br />
as singular, existential, or as a universal, is called the concept of the proper name.<br />
According to Frege, concepts are non-linguistic entit<strong>ie</strong>s which can be identif<strong>ie</strong>d or<br />
apprehended in different ways. An example is ‗red‘, which appears as part of a<br />
predicate, ‗is red‘; as a general term, ‗redness‘; and as an expression, ‗the concept<br />
red‘. For Frege, concepts are neither true nor false, but practical or impractical.<br />
They are used on one hand because they allow the most adequate and simple<br />
formulations, and on the other because they are indispensable. Thus they appear as<br />
concepts only because of their practical value, as the references of expressions<br />
that play a certain role in language. It is because concepts are of linguistic value<br />
and use that they cannot be assumed to have their origins in references to actual<br />
objects. References to actual objects do not teach one the use of concepts, nor<br />
does the proper use of concepts require references to actual objects in order to<br />
validate their use. Rather, reference to actual objects is possible after the use of<br />
concepts is understood,<br />
227
Frege calls the concept a function. The most notable feature of a functionconcept<br />
is its incompleteness: it is a structure which determines an expression.<br />
The function thus stands in contrast to the completeness of a proper name. In<br />
human language this contrast is evident in the fact that while a function is<br />
‗exhausted‘ as determinant of an expression, that is, the use of a concept is<br />
exhausted in the statement to which it contributes its meaning, the proper name<br />
standing for the object which ‗falls under‘ the concept is not exhausted. Thus the<br />
distinction between a proper name and a function-concept appears in the form of<br />
instances of aspects of an object which cannot be an instance in itself.<br />
However, this image of wholes and parts is metaphorical, for concepts<br />
cannot fully stand for the object, a divergence which according to Frege is ‗an<br />
inevitable consequence of the difference between what appears in space and time<br />
and the world of thought‘.<br />
One consequence of this fact is that strictly speaking a concept-function<br />
cannot be named. This is because the essence of a concept-function cannot be<br />
separated from the role it plays. The proper name cannot be the essence of a<br />
concept-function. The essence of a concept-function is its determinative role in a<br />
specific expression. That is, in its essence, a concept-function is incomplete, while<br />
a proper name is complete, Again, to attempt to indicate the ‗concept or function<br />
x‘, though unavoidable in ordinary language, is to indicate an object and so deny<br />
the predicative nature of the concept-function. Thus words like ‗concept‘,<br />
‗function‘ and ‗relation‘, according to Frege, ‗miss what we are really aiming at‘.<br />
(Note: Gödel‘s criticism of this account, called a theory of types, misses<br />
the point Frege sought to make. The argument: to state the distinction between the<br />
object and a concept-function, one would have to say that x is an object but not a<br />
concept-function, and y is a concept-function but not the object: but this supposes<br />
that we have an idea of ‗object‘ that is true of x but false of y and an idea of<br />
‗concept-function‘ that is false of x but true of y: this means that both ideas would<br />
have to be meaningfully predicable of x and y, but by assumption there is no such<br />
concept.<br />
It is obvious from Frege‘s argument that both x and y in this argument are<br />
concepts-functions. Abstractively, one can have an ‗idea‘ of a concept-function,<br />
for both the ‗idea‘ and ‗concept-function‘ are products of spatio-temporal<br />
thinking. But one cannot have an ‗idea‘ of an object-in-itself, for an ‗objectthought‘<br />
in itself cannot appear at the level of spatio-temporal thinking. Thus, as<br />
has been argued above, proper names always appear in ordinary language as<br />
concept-functions. Reflectively, proper names can be isolated and indicated, but<br />
the objects the proper names ‗stand for‘ cannot be indicated in this manner. All<br />
that is possible is that the object, for which the proper name stands, can be<br />
recognised as true and also as independent of our recognition of it.<br />
Frege‘s account of the ‗relation‘ between the object, the proper name, and<br />
the concept-function is not logically explicable because it is an epistemological<br />
argument, not a logical one. As such, as Wittgenstein phrased it, this relation<br />
cannot be stated, it can only be shown.)<br />
228
Hello... What are you doing?<br />
Oh Lotty... You‘re back... Where did I put Tony‘s notes?<br />
I don‘t know... Are they in the car? I don‘t remember you bringing them in.<br />
That‘s it... Excuse me.<br />
Bring the rest of the shopping in, will you... I‘ll get Brian... Is it there?<br />
Under the seat... Pretty creased... It‘s almost as though I was trying to lose them...<br />
Is this all?<br />
Yes... Come on, you. Home again...<br />
Did you have any trouble?<br />
No... Rathmines. Not very crowded... A security guard was good enough to help<br />
me.<br />
Good... Did Brian behave?<br />
Of course... As usual he spent his time looking about him... Very grave... An old<br />
woman talked baby talk to him, He was very dignif<strong>ie</strong>d... but he smiled for her... She<br />
thought he was lovely... What do you want the notes for?... The way you‘re scrutinising<br />
them.<br />
Oh... I am... I‘m not sure... Lotty... I know this is my paranoia... But what if these<br />
are fake?<br />
Are you serious?... Dan...<br />
It suddenly crossed my mind, Lotty... Look... It‘s a feeling... But according to<br />
Tony, these planes are flying up and down the west coast like... like a... damned<br />
commuter service... It doesn‘t make sense, Lotty.<br />
Oh no, Dan... You asked him to do it... Dan! You practically told him what to<br />
expect!<br />
Yes!... If that sort of thing was going on... Look, there‘s a flight every thirty or<br />
forty minutes... How many Russian aircraft would be involved? Flying out of Archangel<br />
or somewhere... Everyone would know about that... Do you see? It‘s different with<br />
submarines...<br />
Why would Tony do that, Dan?<br />
A joke, perhaps... Or to set me up... so I would make a fool of myself...<br />
You should not have asked him, Dan... You could have asked someone else...<br />
Maire‘s home is down there.<br />
Yes... But I didn‘t think of her.<br />
Because she is a woman?<br />
No... Not that... Because I thought she would laugh... She doesn‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve I‘m<br />
serious,<br />
I would trust her more than Tony... He‘s... so ambiguous in himself, Dan... You<br />
know? He doesn‘t trust himself.<br />
That‘s not so unusual, Lotty... It‘s obvious in him because he lets it show... But<br />
what did he see? I mean, did he see any trails at all?... I‘ll have to study these notes...<br />
Why?... You don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve them.<br />
229
I led him to expect certain things... I want to see if there is anything unexpected in<br />
them.<br />
His description of the aircraft?... You didn‘t tell him that.<br />
No... I‘m sure he knows what Russian long range bombers look like. We all saw<br />
pictures of then as teenagers... High tail... four engines... They are very general details...<br />
No, Something else...<br />
He‘s put you in an awkward spot, hasn‘t he? You can‘t really tell him that you<br />
don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve his notes, can you?<br />
Perhaps indirectly... I don‘t know yet... At least I don‘t have to act on them.<br />
That‘s true...<br />
Anyway... I‘ll study them later... Come on, I‘ll help you put the grocer<strong>ie</strong>s away...<br />
Thanks... Dan, I‘d rather not bring it up again... you do seem decided... But why<br />
do you doubt Tony‘s notes?... Is it because you don‘t want to follow up your theory?<br />
I don‘t think so... At least not immediately... It suddenly struck me as<br />
unbel<strong>ie</strong>vable, I mean, Tony‘s notes... If they were true... If Russian aircraft were flying up<br />
and down the west coast like that... Day after day... Do they do it at night too? How long<br />
has it been going on?... Lotty, that would cost a fortune... And it would involve a lot of<br />
aircraft and personnel.<br />
What‘s wrong with that?<br />
The scale, Lotty!... The whole manoeuvre can‘t be that important. This is a small<br />
country.<br />
It‘s not like you to get so excited... You don‘t have to concern yourself with it...<br />
You could let Tony handle it.<br />
Tony? He can‘t, Lotty. He‘s a civil servant.<br />
Then leave it, Dan. Forget about it... You should concentrate on your paper. That<br />
is more important to you.<br />
But what if it is true, Lotty?... Can‘t you see that?... Look, if it is true, then it is a<br />
serious matter for the whole country. I‘m obliged to tell them the facts...<br />
You say you don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve them, Dan.<br />
Not those alone... I‘ve seen the trails with my own eyes... You saw the trail last<br />
Saturday... What do you think of that?... You saw that it followed the Border, didn‘t you?<br />
Yes, Yes... I saw that trail. But I don‘t know if it means what you said it does.<br />
Put it all together, Lotty... If there is even a grain of truth in Tony‘s notes, then<br />
that clinches it... It means my theory is true... Lotty, it means that the Russians and the<br />
West are manoeuvring for some kind of strategic advantage over this island... Do you<br />
know what that could lead to?... I‘ll tell you... It will change the balance of power for<br />
Ireland. That means that the West must strengthen its hold over the island.<br />
You mean invade us?<br />
No. Nothing so obvious... For one thing they could put pressure on Ireland to join<br />
nato and perhaps accept foreign bases here... And in turn that could change the situation<br />
in the North... You see, though no one has said it publicly, the question of‘ the North and<br />
of neutrality are closely related, The country would split into what were in effect pro-<br />
English and anti-English factions... The whole island North and South would collapse<br />
into a complex civil war...<br />
You are exaggerating, Dan.<br />
230
Think about it, Lotty... Don‘t take my word... You see, if I publicise my theory<br />
and the facts, it might prevent that change in the balance of power.<br />
Do you want to do that?<br />
Yes... Of course.<br />
You are patriotic... I was right.<br />
Not really... There are you and Brian and our life here... That could he affected.<br />
That‘s a good enough reason, isn‘t it?<br />
I don‘t know... Yes, it is, Dan... But only if it is true... And you don‘t know that.<br />
You mistrust Tony.<br />
I‘ll talk to him... Carefully... But I‘ll study these... Look, I‘m going to do it now,<br />
Lotty... I‘ll see you later...<br />
Dick... Come in, how are you?... You look well... And...<br />
Pale?... Hello, Jim... It‘s nice to see you again.<br />
Did you have trouble getting here?<br />
No. I remembered... I walked out by the Templeogue Road.<br />
Yes... Anne thought I should have collected you.<br />
No. I enjoyed the walk... It‘s very open out here. The sky is huge... I watched the<br />
clouds. There‘s a heavy shower building up...<br />
It‘s been an awful summer, hasn‘t it?... Here‘s Aiden.<br />
Hello, Aiden... Does he remember me?<br />
He seemed to... We told him you were coming... It‘s Uncle Richard, Aiden. Say<br />
hello.<br />
Gnrr...<br />
Hoi...<br />
He‘s shy... It‘s his way of handling it... Stop it, Aiden.<br />
It‘s okay, Jim... I‘ll just teach him a lesson... Hup. Aagh!<br />
There... Show him adult power... They never seem to learn... Down you go... How<br />
are you now, Aiden?<br />
Say hello, Aiden.<br />
He hurt me.<br />
I didn‘t... Don‘t let on... Let‘s go in...<br />
Hello, Dick.<br />
Hello, Anne... You‘re looking very well... Congratulations. Jim told me you are<br />
expecting... Another boy?<br />
Hope not... But we‘ll take what‘s coming.<br />
H‘llo,<br />
Hello... Colm... He‘s grown, I didn‘t know he could speak yet... How are you,<br />
Colm?<br />
He did his poop-poop on the floor! Ha!<br />
Ah!<br />
Don‘t hit him, Aiden... .<br />
231
Here, Aiden... Cone over here... I told you before not to be hitting Colm...<br />
Poor Colm... Come to Mammy...<br />
Aagh... He hit me!... Look.<br />
Clever... Colm knows how to exploit sympathy.<br />
What?<br />
Didn‘t you see? Colm picked up that wooden block as Anne picked him up and let<br />
Aiden have it once he was safely in her arms.<br />
It‘s nothing, Aiden... After all, you did punch him... They‘re a handful, Dick.<br />
So I see... Do they ever get on?<br />
Usually they do... Aiden gets very excited when there are visitors... He‘ll settle<br />
down.<br />
Your mother thinks we‘re mad to have another one... I know she thinks that, Jim...<br />
Did she say anything to you, Dick?<br />
No... I wasn‘t talking to her for long... She seems very well... Is she lonely down<br />
there, Jim?<br />
She‘s on her own there... But she keeps herself busy... There‘s not much more we<br />
can do.<br />
Oh no... I didn‘t mean that, Jim...<br />
Are you my uncle?<br />
Yes... Do you remember me?<br />
You gave me a.<br />
What?... Where has he gone?<br />
The binoculars... Remember?<br />
Oh yes. Has he still got them?<br />
They‘re broken... No glass... They still fascinate him.<br />
Here.<br />
Binoculars, Aiden.<br />
Yes... You gave me it... I can see the mountains,<br />
From upstairs... He sometimes stands in the window and looks at the hills for<br />
ages... No glass.<br />
I thought they would make him more observant, Anne.<br />
Do you want to see?<br />
What should I look at?<br />
Here... The tree.<br />
I can see it... What kind of tree, Aiden?<br />
Daddy... What kind of tree?<br />
Beech.<br />
Beech... It‘s a beech tree... Is that right, daddy?<br />
That‘s right, Aiden, it‘s a beech tree.<br />
Can you see it?<br />
Yes... There‘s a bird in it... Here. Look... No. Up... Can you see?... It has a long<br />
tail... Can you see?<br />
It‘s white... can see a bird, daddy... There‘s a bird up in the tree... What kind of<br />
bird is it, daddy?<br />
What does it look like, Aiden?<br />
232
It‘s white, daddy...<br />
The tail?<br />
The tail is long, daddy.<br />
What colour?<br />
It‘s black, daddy...<br />
It‘s a magp<strong>ie</strong>, Aiden.<br />
Magp<strong>ie</strong>... What‘s a magp<strong>ie</strong>?<br />
A magp<strong>ie</strong> is a bird, Aiden. It has a long tail... Can‘t you see?<br />
No.<br />
Here... No... There it is, Aiden... Here. Put the glasses down... Look... There...<br />
And look. On the grass... That‘s its mate.<br />
What‘s a mate?<br />
It‘s partner... Like your mother and father,<br />
It‘s green, daddy.<br />
That‘s right... There‘s green on its back.<br />
Oh look... It‘s jumping.<br />
Krk!<br />
Krk! Krk!<br />
They‘re talking! Mammy! Daddy! The mag... They‘re talking,<br />
That‘s right, Aiden.<br />
Ehh...<br />
Colm wants to see... Now leave him alone, Aiden,<br />
Come on, Colm... Look... Do you see?<br />
The bird.<br />
Magp<strong>ie</strong>... It‘s a magp<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
Aiden!<br />
Crack!<br />
Ooh!<br />
It‘s flown away... Look... Up onto that roof.<br />
Aiden! You could have broken the window.<br />
The bird ran away, daddy.<br />
You frightened it. You shouldn‘t have done that.<br />
The bird. Look.<br />
That‘s right, Colm... It‘s a magp<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
Magp<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
You didn‘t see the bird, Colm... I did,<br />
Magp<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
He stands up to Aiden,<br />
Oh he can look after himself... But Aiden can be very protective of him when he<br />
wants to... Come on, Aiden, Colm. The birds have gone...<br />
I saw the magp<strong>ie</strong>, daddy.<br />
Me too... Up. Up.<br />
It flew up. That‘s right, Colm.<br />
I saw it in the tree , Colm... You didn‘t see it in the tree... I did.<br />
Up... up.<br />
233
He‘s flapping his hands. Look.<br />
He‘s more attentive to detail than Aiden,<br />
Yes... He seems qu<strong>ie</strong>ter.<br />
Oh he‘s as good as gold, Dick... Aren‘t you, sweetheart?<br />
He did his poop-poop. He‘s bold... Argh...<br />
Got him... Up, Aiden... Look, you‘re flying by your ankles.<br />
Ahh ... Ahh!<br />
Fly, Aiden...<br />
Dick... We‘ll never get him to settle down...<br />
Okay... Here.<br />
Up.<br />
See, Aiden? Colm says you were flying.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Colm‘s a good tactician, Jim.<br />
Isn‘t he?... You‘re tempted to think that the fault always l<strong>ie</strong>s with Aiden.<br />
You might be right... Colm has his own subtle way of getting at him.<br />
But they are both good boys. Aren‘t you, Colm? Aiden?<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Caprophiliac?<br />
He learned the word a few weeks ago... I suppose it‘s a stage he‘s going through...<br />
Would you like a drink, Dick?<br />
I‘d rather have some tea.<br />
I‘ll get some... I‘ll take Colm.<br />
Thanks, Anne.<br />
He still has the bricks.<br />
Yes... He never uses them.<br />
I remember... Come on, Aiden. Let‘s build something... Here. Spread the bricks<br />
out on the carpet...<br />
How are things in London?<br />
As usual.<br />
What‘s the Epsom place like?<br />
A large house. On its own grounds... There‘s an orchard. Beautiful apples... We<br />
have a ground floor flat... I told you about it before?<br />
Yes... You cleared the garden?<br />
Yes. It had been wild for over ten years... Ang<strong>ie</strong> put in flowers now.<br />
Chrysanthemums mostly... She likes them. Not so obvious as the roses I had put in, I<br />
suppose.<br />
Is it qu<strong>ie</strong>t?<br />
Very... Surrounded by trees. You‘d like it. You should come over.<br />
When the children get bigger... It sounds idyllic... For a writer, I mean.<br />
Perhaps... There‘s not much else to do there except write.<br />
You really are committed to it... Your writing...<br />
I never thought I would make a million, Jim... Here, Aiden. Put that brick there.<br />
Heh-heh... Ha!<br />
So much for a skyscraper... He has no interest in putting things together?<br />
234
No, He prefers to interact with things... Colm is different... He‘ll play with them<br />
for hours. At least if Aiden leaves him alone... Aiden tests everything.<br />
What if they refuse to give way?<br />
He ignores them... He won‘t let anything dominate him.<br />
Except himself.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
He‘s very predictable, I knew he would knock the bricks down once I asked him<br />
to participate. He was looking for an excuse... Colm, on the other hand, uses things.<br />
That‘s true.<br />
Tea... Dinner won‘t be long, Dick. I waited until you came before putting the<br />
vegetables on.<br />
H‘llo.<br />
Hello, Colm... Has he a cold? His cheeks are very red.<br />
Some kind of infection, in his nose and throat,<br />
If it‘s not one thing, Dick, it‘s another.<br />
Thanks... Now he‘s looking for an excuse to hit Colm... Look at him... Aiden...<br />
He‘ll deflect it on to me now. Watch... Push off, Aiden.<br />
Agh!... Aagh!... Let me, let me...<br />
Here. Sit beside your daddy.<br />
Stay qu<strong>ie</strong>t, Aiden,<br />
Now... Colm, let‘s build a skyscraper... Up to the sky.<br />
Are you staying long, Dick?<br />
Until Saturday, Anne... It‘s a short break.<br />
While the publisher looks at your novel?<br />
I suppose so... I always feel peaceful... or empty... after finishing a work... I<br />
wanted somewhere qu<strong>ie</strong>t.<br />
When are you going to write about Dublin, Dick?<br />
Nothing much to write about, Anne.<br />
Why?<br />
I‘ve no story inside me... If I try to find one, it would only be a p<strong>ie</strong>ce of sociology.<br />
You have rejected Ireland?... Mother says you are getting a British passport.<br />
It‘s a choice I made... I‘m not going to live here again, Jim.<br />
But you‘re not English.<br />
Nor am I Irish.<br />
You were born and raised here...<br />
I was born and raised in a particular Dublin, Jim... That was only incidentally<br />
Irish... Hold on, Colm... Ah...<br />
Did he knock it over?<br />
No... He walked into it... trying to put a block on top... Oh well, Colm... Start<br />
again...<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Stop it, Aiden... Are you bitter?<br />
Do I sound bitter?<br />
Just now you did.<br />
235
You‘re questioning a decision I made six years ago... The assumptions you make<br />
annoy me, I suppose... I don‘t like official Ireland, Jim.<br />
Do you like official England?<br />
It doesn‘t make the same claims on me... At least not yet.<br />
And if it did?<br />
I‘d go somewhere else.<br />
America?<br />
No. That‘s worse than Ireland... No. I‘d try to live in Paris.<br />
You did that before and it didn‘t work.<br />
I can try again... Jim, I don‘t have to belong anywhere permanently.<br />
But you are Irish, Dick.<br />
I was born on this island, Anne. A hundred years ago it was Ireland in a different<br />
sense. In a hundred years time it will probably be Ireland in an altogether different sense...<br />
You act as though the present twenty-six county republic was eternal.<br />
I‘ll check the vegetables... Dinner should be ready... Will you carve now, Jim?<br />
Sure... Will I take Aiden out, Dick?<br />
No. I‘ll look after him... Here, Aiden... Sit there. Go on.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Poop-poop yourself.<br />
Heh-heh.<br />
Aiden bold.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Where are the binoculars?<br />
I‘ll get them!... Here.<br />
Good... What was the name of the bird, Aiden?... Can you remember?<br />
Long tail!<br />
Up.<br />
Did you see it fly, Aiden?<br />
I saw it on the grass... Colm didn‘t see it.<br />
Colm saw it fly... Didn‘t you, Colm?... Up?<br />
Up. Up,<br />
Use the binoculars, Aiden... There. On the roof... Is it there?<br />
No.<br />
In the tree?<br />
No.<br />
Where is it?<br />
Gone.<br />
Up... Magp<strong>ie</strong>.<br />
Good lad, Colm... You remembered... Do you remember, Aiden?<br />
Magp<strong>ie</strong> poop-poop!<br />
Look at the cloud.<br />
Where?<br />
Up there... Look.<br />
Black.<br />
Up... Up.<br />
236
Can you see it move?... Stand still and look... Do you see? The cloud is coming...<br />
When it comes over here it will rain... Can you see, Colm?<br />
Poop-poop rain!<br />
Poop-poop... Up.<br />
Do you see it move, Aiden?<br />
There. That man in the cloud.<br />
Where?<br />
There... Oh.<br />
What?<br />
Bird.<br />
A seagull... Going back to the sea.<br />
Poop-poop sea!<br />
Poop-poop... Look.<br />
The rain, Colm... See the drops on the window... There... There!<br />
Oh... Look.<br />
Poop-poop rain!<br />
Oh... Daddy, daddy. The rain!<br />
Here it comes.<br />
Poop-poop rain!<br />
Rain... Up.<br />
Yes. From the cloud. Can you see it falling?...<br />
It‘s ready, Dick... Come on, you two. Dinner.<br />
Poop-poop dinner!<br />
Rain, daddy.<br />
Another shower... You‘d wonder why they get so excited. They‘ve seen plenty of<br />
them this summer... .<br />
Mammy... Rain... Look. Poop-poop rain!<br />
Will you sit there, Dick... We‘ll put Colm beside you... Here, Aiden, sit there...<br />
Thanks, Anne... Smells nice.<br />
Oh, it‘s perfectly ordinary... leave the things alone, Aiden.<br />
Bordeaux?<br />
Medoc... I brought it back from Lyons last spring... Kept it for an occasion like<br />
this... Try it.<br />
Yes... Good.<br />
Grand cru... Only about four pounds... Paris would be a good idea.<br />
No doubt you‘d come and visit me there.<br />
You‘ll he able to eat out every night, Dick.<br />
If I had the money, Anne... Your good health.<br />
And to your new novel.<br />
Thanks...<br />
What is it about?<br />
Yes, Dick. Tell us about it.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Stop it, Aiden. Eat your dinner... Go on, Dick.<br />
237
Do you remember the stuff you photocop<strong>ie</strong>d for me from the Revue Celtique?<br />
About eight years ago?<br />
Yes. Old Irish tales. Did you use those?... You used to say they would make an<br />
interesting novel... They‘re about an invasion of Ireland in the pre-Celtic era, Anne... Isn‘t<br />
that right, Dick?<br />
Yes. You remember the O‘Rahilly essay?<br />
That the two tales were about the same event, but told from opposite sides?<br />
Yes... I‘ve put them together.<br />
What have you called it?<br />
The Red God, Anne... Do you like it?<br />
Mysterious... It‘s not about pagan gods, is it?<br />
I thought it was about an invasion.<br />
It‘s about both... It‘s about how a king of Ireland... I call him Conaire... meets his<br />
death. He‘s trapped in a hostel by an invading army...<br />
Where did you get the detail from?... There‘s none in the tales, if I remember.<br />
Details?<br />
About the hostel... Dress and customs... The sort of historical background you‘d<br />
need for that sort of novels.<br />
There‘s no detail, Jim.<br />
You could have invented it... By analogy, I mean.<br />
There‘s no need for detail.<br />
Why not?<br />
Because the characters are not particularly aware of those details... Nor is the<br />
storyteller who tells it.<br />
But what about your reader?<br />
The reader is given the sal<strong>ie</strong>nt details, which have to do with the death of the king.<br />
But surely you were tempted to try and evoke the period... You know, the<br />
unspoiled landscape... A description of the hostel would have given flesh to the<br />
archaeological remains we have... Ring forts... That sort of thing.<br />
But it has nothing to do with the story... The king doesn‘t regard the hostel... or<br />
his dress and weapons, for that matter... as fine or typical examples of his culture... He‘s<br />
not a cultural historian... He‘s an ordinary king attempting to resist a threat to his powers.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Stop playing with your dinner, Aiden...<br />
How do you describe the hostel, then?<br />
I don‘t... There‘s no time for that. My storyteller is concerned with telling how<br />
king Conaire met his death... The accoutrements of his life are not significant.<br />
Then why the hostel, Dick?... Why do the tales mention hostels if the background<br />
is not important?<br />
They are important, Jim. But not as human artefacts of a particular period and<br />
style. You remember what they are called?... The hostel of Da Derga and the hostel of Da<br />
Choca... O‘Rahilly argued that they both meant the hostel of the red god.<br />
And that‘s where you get your title from?<br />
I don‘t want this, mammy!<br />
Hush, Aiden. We‘ll have sweet in a moment.<br />
238
Poop-poop sweet!<br />
Stay qu<strong>ie</strong>t, Aiden... Go on, Dick.<br />
That‘s right, Anne... Can you see? The hostels are the abode of the fled God... A<br />
pre-Celtic underworld... The two levels of the stor<strong>ie</strong>s meet there... Conaire d<strong>ie</strong>s there at<br />
the hands of the invaders and he d<strong>ie</strong>s there because it is the abode of the dead ... or the<br />
Red God.<br />
And you could sustain the story without a background?<br />
I could... But you‘re right... I don‘t know whether the reader can or not... Ang<strong>ie</strong><br />
liked it... But she‘s prejudiced maybe...<br />
What did she say?<br />
I think she liked it for me, Anne... She said she found the argument interesting,<br />
but I don‘t think she grasped their significance.<br />
What arguments?<br />
The storyteller‘s aud<strong>ie</strong>nce get annoyed with parts of the story.<br />
It sounds complicated, Dick.<br />
That‘s how it came out, Anne.<br />
Do you think the publisher will take it?<br />
I don‘t know, Jim... I don‘t try to anticipate.<br />
I‘ll get the sweet... It‘s a fresh fruit salad... Do you like that, Dick?<br />
Sure, Anne... The meal was very satisfying... You did the beef to perfection.<br />
Thank you. It‘s a good oven... Excuse me... Aiden, come and help me.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Why was the last novel not accepted, Dick?<br />
Too long... It was over six hundred pages.<br />
But there are plenty of long novels on the market... What was it about?<br />
Most people seem to think that if the social order collapsed there would be utter<br />
anarchy and violence... I wrote about that and I discovered that on the contrary people<br />
would become very introverted and indifferent to the world.<br />
That‘s hardly true, Dick... 1ook at history.<br />
I mean a total collapse on a world scale... That has never been possible before... It<br />
has something to do with the removal of all boundar<strong>ie</strong>s... limits... except one.<br />
And what is that?<br />
In the story it is the threat of world destruction by a comet... I know, I know, Jim.<br />
it‘s a fairly kitschy plot... I chose it on purpose... I called the work an eschatological<br />
phantasy.<br />
No wonder they wouldn‘t take it... Why are you so obsessed with death anyway,<br />
Dick?<br />
Someone once said that only death can give meaning to life. I think that‘s true.<br />
But we can‘t go around thinking of death all the time.<br />
Why says we don‘t?... Most of the things people do are nothing more than<br />
distractions... People overdo everything.<br />
Give that to Uncle Richard, Aiden... Here you are, Colm... Eat that up.<br />
Up.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Thanks, Aiden... This looks delicious.<br />
239
Jim made it.<br />
I remember... The range of fruits grows, Jim.<br />
There are new ones on the market... Distractions?<br />
They look delicious... This green one is very succulent.<br />
I think we should put the children you-pee before we have coffee, Jim.<br />
Good idea... I‘ll do Aiden.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Your novels seem to become more and more obscure, Dick... Isn‘t it something<br />
you should watch? I mean writing in isolation.<br />
It‘s not because of that... There‘s a kind of logic to them... Progressively, I mean.<br />
Towards what?... A philosophy of life?<br />
Not a philosophy... It‘s ethical rather than theoretical... About how to live rather<br />
than about the meaning of life or anything like that.<br />
How should we live?<br />
It‘s rather superficial on the surface, Anne... We should concentrate on our<br />
actions... Rather than our knowledge or intentions... There‘s nothing new in that. I‘m not<br />
trying to be original... But it is what we do that counts... Not what we intend to do.<br />
Existentialism?<br />
No... That presupposes too much... That‘s all speculation, anyway... That we act is<br />
an incontrovertible fact.<br />
But what if our actions are the products of pressures and suggestions we are not<br />
conscious of?<br />
Then our actions will not be true, Jim.<br />
How could you measure their truth?... You say we should disregard our thoughts.<br />
Not disregard... They should he subordinated to the factuality of our actions. We<br />
should think about our actions, not about our thinking.<br />
Interesting... I must think about that.<br />
Try it, Jim... Study your actions.<br />
Hardly.<br />
Why not?<br />
I‘m a town planner... Yes. I know I‘m being cynical... I can‘t just give it up,<br />
Dick... I‘m being practical... It‘s alright for you, you‘re not responsible for anyone but<br />
yourself... I‘ll take the children up... Do you want coffee, Dick?<br />
No. I‘ll wait...<br />
Come on, Aiden, Colm. Time for bed.<br />
Goodnight, Aiden... Goodnight, Colm.<br />
Give your Uncle Richard a kiss.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
Goodnight, Colm.<br />
Aiden.<br />
Poop-poop!<br />
He is very shy behind it all, Dick.<br />
It‘s alright... Goodnight, Aiden...<br />
You don‘t find them distracting, Dick? You‘re not used to children.<br />
No... At least not for a few hours... I suspect it‘s different when they are your own.<br />
240
Yes. You get used to them... When are you going to get marr<strong>ie</strong>d?... You like<br />
children.<br />
Perhaps I like other people‘s children.<br />
Doesn‘t the girl you live with... Ang<strong>ie</strong>... want to marry?<br />
I don‘t know. We‘ve never discussed it.<br />
I don‘t mean to pry, Dick.<br />
No... Ang<strong>ie</strong>‘s not interested in children. I suppose she would do if that is the way<br />
it fell out. But she has no positive desire... You think that is a bit pointless.<br />
To me... Others see it differently, I expect... I have a sister like that... Or so she<br />
says... But she‘s thirty now. I think she wants to have children before she gets too old...<br />
She won‘t admit it, of course... The door. I wonder who that could be?<br />
Do you want me to answer it?<br />
No... I‘ll go... Excuse me...<br />
Where‘s Jim?... Hi.<br />
He‘s upstairs... Dick, this is Maurice MacCarthy. He‘s a neighbour‘s son...<br />
Maurice, this is Jim‘s brother, Richard.<br />
I haven‘t met you before.<br />
He‘s over from London on a holiday... He lives in London.<br />
Oh London... Kip... The fuzz there... You know ‗em, hey?... Real heavy... Will<br />
Jim be long?<br />
I don‘t know... You want to see him?<br />
Just to tell him I gave that guy in Dundrum the estimate.<br />
What did he say?<br />
He‘ll let me know next Monday... Hey, Dick. You know Notting Hill?... Up near<br />
the park... What‘s it called... Had a squat ... me and this other guy from Dun Leary... Row<br />
of houses... Always someone keeping an eye out... There was everything going round... a<br />
real commune... Hey!... Real cool... Look, there was this chick... Long hair down her<br />
back... cool... Really serene, Dick... You know the sort?... Fall into her eyes... She had<br />
this guy... I could see why... He had real charisma... You could see it around him... And<br />
she would go into it... hey... Look... There was real terror there... She‘d go into his<br />
charisma... hey... She‘d glow... Ohhh... Hey... Hair... It was alive...<br />
Do you want some coffee, Maurice?... I don‘t know how long Jim will he.<br />
Sure, Anne. Coffee‘ll be great... You have some coffee, Dick... Look, I‘ll tell<br />
you... This guy had real charisma... real power... You could see it in his eyes... Hey... But<br />
the chick liked me... She talked to me... And I made some songs for her... I wanted to tell<br />
her... I knew... you know... about her... I could see, man... It was terrible... too much<br />
terror... He was eating her... Yeah... It came out of her hair... I wrote these songs... I<br />
knew... Hey! I knew!... Jesus... She liked me... I could see that... and he was cool... a real<br />
leader... charisma... We had some peyote one night... You know peyote?... Mescaline?... I<br />
was with this chick from Cork... She didn‘t like Marjor<strong>ie</strong>... I could tell that... He was in<br />
the corner... Hey the light... I could see it... She was sitting there... Right up against... She<br />
was shining... It was cool... He was eating her... I went up to them... Hey!... Took... She<br />
didn‘t like her... I could tell that... I went up... The light came out like a net... I went<br />
over... Jesus... I... I...<br />
Maurice. Coffee.<br />
241
Yeah... You get this... What‘s your name again... I‘ve never seen you before.<br />
Dick.<br />
Yeah, that‘s it... Dick... Jesus, Dick... I went up to him... Charisma... He had real<br />
charisma... I could see him... The power was a holy terror, Dick... I said to him eye to<br />
eye... See, Dick... I knew I had charisma... I could feel it... I said what‘s that about?... He<br />
had a medallion around his neck... I said, Hey man, what‘s that... He showed it to me... I<br />
said, Hey, thanks... I mean that... It was good... He said, It‘s nothing... I... I... You ever try<br />
peyote, Dick?<br />
No.<br />
It‘s okay... Don‘t touch speed... Don‘t ever touch speed... Hey, Anne. Will Jim he<br />
down soon?<br />
I don‘t know... I‘ll give him a message if you like.<br />
Sure... Tell him I gave that guy the estimate, will you?<br />
Yes. I will... He‘ll he glad to hear that.<br />
When you look in... Terror... Ho was eating that chick... Her hair was alive... I<br />
could see that... I saw water like that once. In Holland... Tell Jim I gave that guy... over in<br />
Dundrum... I‘ll come over tomorrow... Nice to see you...<br />
I‘ll see you out, Maurice... How is the family?<br />
Cool, real cool, Anne.<br />
Good night... Whew.<br />
Indeed.<br />
Have you ever met the likes, Dick?<br />
Yes... They are everywhere now.<br />
His parents tr<strong>ie</strong>d to have him treated for schizophrenia... The psychiatrist told him<br />
to join a youth club... He said he spent too much time on his own.<br />
What happened to him?<br />
Drugs... Drink... He was expelled from school... Rebellious... There was a group<br />
of them... He‘s not so bad now. Jim encourages him... He‘s doing building work. Jim<br />
helps him with estimates and materials...<br />
Was that Maurice?<br />
Yes... They‘re asleep?<br />
Aiden resisted for a time. But he‘s exhausted... What did he want?<br />
To tell you that he has given the estimate to that man in Dundrum.<br />
Good. I hope he gets it... He needs something like this to give him confidence,<br />
Dick... How was he?<br />
He told me a story.<br />
I‘ll bring in the coffee.<br />
Would you like some brandy?<br />
Yes... Anne says you‘re helping him.<br />
I try... There are a lot of them... Unemployable. No future... The drugs wreck their<br />
minds... Do you take drugs?<br />
I have... Not often... You?<br />
Once or twice at college... They had no effect.<br />
You have to get used to it... But it‘s like internal television... He seems to have<br />
had some hairy exper<strong>ie</strong>nces.<br />
242
them?<br />
He was with some weird people.<br />
What are his songs like?<br />
He told you that?... Did you tell him you write?<br />
No... He told me he wrote some songs for a girl with long hair.<br />
They‘re very disconnected... his music is too harmonic... Are you interested in<br />
Curious... Sometimes their work is very interesting.<br />
You didn‘t say that to him, did you?... It wouldn‘t do to give him ideas... He‘d<br />
probably go to p<strong>ie</strong>ces altogether.<br />
No... It can be unselfconscious.<br />
His songs are all the same.<br />
You‘ve seen them?<br />
He brings his guitar with him sometimes.<br />
Coffee... Will you have some cake, Dick?... It might be too rich.<br />
No... It looks fine... Thanks.<br />
You have to help these kids, Dick... It‘s just too awful not to... When you get to<br />
know them, I mean.<br />
You‘re helping him to become a builder, Anne said.<br />
Yes... He really loves the material... Tactile... He wants to work with <strong>stone</strong>...<br />
Though it‘s mostly cement and breeze blocks at the moment.<br />
What does his father do?<br />
An accountant... But his grandfather was a tradesman... A carpenter.<br />
I see... You‘re very kind to help him.<br />
As I say, what else can I do?... And I can help him in this particular area... Do you<br />
want some more brandy?<br />
No thanks... I want to keep my head clear. I‘m going to climb tomorrow.<br />
In Wicklow?<br />
Yes.<br />
It‘ll he fairly wet.<br />
I know... I have the gear... Tony Hackett loaned me some of his.<br />
How is he?<br />
Looks very prosperous.<br />
Yes... I met him a few months ago...<br />
He‘s the civil servant?<br />
Yes, Anne... I‘ve known him for years.<br />
You went out with his sister.<br />
Not really... I knew her.<br />
By the way, Dick... I was thinking about your theory upstairs... Do you know what<br />
struck me?<br />
What?<br />
It runs into the familiar problem of all theor<strong>ie</strong>s of radical change... How can the<br />
change he effected? I mean, how could our actions become true without the change itself<br />
destroying everything?<br />
Only if it were total.<br />
Obviously... But how?<br />
243
I mean total in the sense of involving everyone... In my phantasy everyone<br />
changed because everyone was faced with the same objective situation.<br />
But that‘s not much help to us.<br />
The principle might be though... The objective situation needn‘t be a destructive<br />
one.<br />
You mean salvation?<br />
No... That is hardly objective... No... A world situation. If all objective boundar<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
except one were removed.<br />
How?<br />
A world-state, of course... And that is possible... there is a world economy, world<br />
communications, and a rudimentary world political forum...<br />
What boundary would remain?<br />
The earth itself... Which as a sphere is a boundary surface without boundar<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
You mean that, Dick?<br />
Yes, Anne...<br />
But does it matter how this world state is organised. Dick? I mean dictatorship...<br />
Or irresponsible capitalism.<br />
Being a world organisation... and so a unity... would probably affect the internal<br />
organisation.<br />
How?<br />
I‘m not sure... Surplus would become absolute, for instance... But we only know<br />
about partial situations... People might behave a lot differently in a total situation... A lot<br />
of people seem to think so, Jim.<br />
Yes. I know... You mean it is only then that actions could become true?<br />
Oh no... one could act as though one‘s situation were true... As it actually is.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
We are totalit<strong>ie</strong>s of some kind... No. Think about that... I find it impossible to<br />
prove... But as totalit<strong>ie</strong>s we find ourselves isolated. There is nothing to link individual<br />
totalit<strong>ie</strong>s at the moment.<br />
Do you really bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that, Dick?<br />
It‘s how I feel at the moment, Anne. My next work might amend or contradict it.<br />
What has it to do with death, Dick?<br />
True action makes death worthwhile. It indicates death.<br />
That‘s quite a mouthful, Dick... Is it anything more than rhetoric?<br />
I‘m not trying to tell you something, Jim... You can check it for yourself.<br />
I take your point, Dick. But what is true action? I find that hard to grasp... I mean,<br />
I try to act for the best. But there are conditions which prevent me from doing that at<br />
times... I know you say that the total situation should be changed. But you also say that<br />
we are individual totalit<strong>ie</strong>s... How can I as an individual totality act truly in my present<br />
circumstances?<br />
All this may bore Anne, Jim. Perhaps we should leave it at that.<br />
No, go on, Dick... It is interesting, I would have asked the question myself.<br />
Okay... I‘ll put it this way. You must allow the act. In a sense, you must give<br />
yourself in the act... I‘ll give you some other ways of putting it. In Zen there is the saying,<br />
Be at rest before moving. The early Romantics... Schiller, I think... said, Lassen sich... let<br />
244
it be... which is how the Beatles put it... Can you understand that?... If there is nothing to<br />
be done, do nothing... That‘s another way of putting it... Don‘t try to be active all the<br />
time, as most people are... They are afraid of stillness and silence... Afraid of<br />
themselves... Only act when required to, and let the act do itself... I know this is a clumsy<br />
way of putting it, but you really ought to work it out for yourself... People are so used to<br />
being told what to do... To being acted upon.<br />
That reminds me of something... Jim, do you remember one night Maurice was<br />
here... about five weeks ago?... Yes. We had been at some kind of midsummer party. He<br />
was in a terrible state...<br />
I remember. He was pretty badly shook,<br />
That‘s right... Well, Dick, he was talking on and on about horror and terror... like<br />
tonight, only much worse... He had a very unsettling effect on us... He was beginning to<br />
upset me so much that I had to stop him... I said to him that the reason he found such<br />
terrible things in his mind was because he wanted to find them there. If he looked instead<br />
for beauty or goodness he would find them...<br />
It stopped him in his tracks, Dick,<br />
Yes... He looked as though he was going to lose his temper... It was the first time I<br />
was actually afraid of him...<br />
Yes, I was ready to stop him.<br />
Yes... Then he suddenly said that he had discovered that there was no extinction...<br />
He said he could see no extinction in himself. He said it wasn‘t possible...<br />
He said that is where he found love...<br />
In love of himself...<br />
And I said he couldn‘t love anyone else unless he loved himself... Then he started<br />
to talk about faith...<br />
Yes. Faith...<br />
Faith in other people... He said he had lost that faith, but he was getting it back...<br />
He said it was thanks to Jim... You see, he trusts Jim...<br />
The change in his state of mind was remarkable, Dick... Of course it was a high<br />
and he was in a black mood the next time he came...<br />
But never so low since, Jim... Not so incoherent.<br />
That‘s true... Has that anything to do with your theory, Dick?<br />
I‘m not sure... The drugs and the traumas... They still influence him a lot.<br />
Can he be saved, Dick?<br />
I don‘t know, Anne... Perhaps if he wants to be...<br />
But he is remarkably honest, Dick. Isn‘t he, Anne?<br />
He‘s an innocent in many ways.<br />
Perhaps... But he separates his living and his death... Do you see that? That‘s why<br />
his moods oscillate... So many drugg<strong>ie</strong>s are sentimental at heart... If he could talk about<br />
love and faith when he feels the horror and the blackness.<br />
But he can talk about them, Dick... And the way he could switch moods when<br />
Anne made him aware of what he does.<br />
Yes... That‘s a good point... But that is only about naming things.<br />
But if he has the right name?<br />
245
The preferable name, you mean, Jim... But don‘t you see? It has no name... That‘s<br />
my point about action... It‘s beyond words... Try telling him that.<br />
I don‘t think he would understand... I‘m not sure I do.<br />
Well, I didn‘t mean to push it so far, Jim... You did right in the context, Anne...<br />
I‘m sorry to seem so dismissive.<br />
No, Dick, You are right... Maurice is obsessed with words...<br />
He uses them to control?<br />
Control?... Why yes, Dick... Of course, I hadn‘t seen that.<br />
Charisma... Cool. Power... They are all words of control, Anne.<br />
Wait a minute, Dick. You use words... What do you use them for?<br />
To exhaust them.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
I give them as much significance as I can... I overload them with meaning, Anne...<br />
And?<br />
They collapse... Words can‘t support much meaning.<br />
What are you left with?<br />
I don‘t know, Jim... But there is something.<br />
You mean that, don‘t you... I can hear it in your voice.<br />
I‘ve done it over and over again.<br />
That‘s why your novels become more obscure?<br />
Yes.<br />
How will it end?<br />
In silence... If that is possible.<br />
And then true action?<br />
Perhaps... But at rest refers to the mind also.<br />
That‘s what you mean about feeling drained after finishing a novel, is it? Not<br />
physical exhaustion?<br />
Yes... Yes... I think I‘ll go... I want to get going early tomorrow.<br />
I‘ll drive you down.<br />
No... I‘d rather walk, Jim... I must loosen up. I don‘t do a lot of walking in<br />
Epsom... Thanks for the meal, Anne, I did enjoy it... And the wine, Jim... Thanks for<br />
having me.<br />
Will we see you again before you go?<br />
I don‘t think so... But I‘ll ring you before I leave.<br />
Goodnight, Dick... It is nice to see you again... I hope your novel is accepted,<br />
Thanks, Anne... Goodnight.<br />
I‘ll go out with you... Are you going down to see mother again?<br />
Yes. Probably on Friday.<br />
Good... She worr<strong>ie</strong>s about you, Dick,<br />
I know. She wants me to settle down.<br />
That‘s only natural... Will you?<br />
I am settled down, Jim... Mother refuses to accept that.<br />
You sound discouraged.<br />
I‘m living my future now.<br />
No fame and fortune?<br />
246
Not that... I don‘t think it would make much difference...<br />
You can never escape yourself. I know that now... Well, I‘m glad you‘re not overambitious.<br />
It was never a question of ambition... I‘ll go on... Thanks for everything... It was<br />
nice seeing you again... Say goodbye to the children for me, won‘t you.<br />
Sure... Oh.<br />
What?<br />
I‘ve just realised it... Do you know who you are like?<br />
Who?<br />
Aiden.<br />
Indeed... I thought I was like Colm.<br />
I know... Goodnight, Dick... Take care of yourself.<br />
Goodnight, Jim... And thanks again...<br />
There you are... Have you been up here long?<br />
Since about eight?... Have you eaten?<br />
Yes. Thanks... What are you reading?<br />
The novel Tony loaned you. By his fr<strong>ie</strong>nd.<br />
What‘s it like?<br />
I don‘t know yet... You should read it yourself... Did you find anything?<br />
An error... I think... There are more southbound flights than northbound ones...<br />
Two more, in fact... One can he accounted for by the shower on Saturday afternoon... In<br />
the section you read out this morning... The sky was obscured long enough for a flight to<br />
pass over... But there is another one on Monday that he seems to have missed... The<br />
strange thing is that it should have passed at about the same time of the missing one on<br />
Saturday.<br />
What do you think?<br />
I don‘t know... Unless Tony is playing a joke.<br />
So you found nothing that would make the notes seem authentic.<br />
No... The flights vary in height and distance from the coast in a random way... But<br />
the trouble is, Lotty, I can‘t find anything that would positively falsify the notes either.<br />
Then perhaps you should ask Tony.<br />
What point would there he in that? If he insists they are true, I can‘t prove it one<br />
way or the other.<br />
You should speak to him anyway, Dan.<br />
I will... If only I could get someone else to check...<br />
Maire?<br />
Perhaps...<br />
But you said she would laugh at you.<br />
Tony seems to he laughing at me as it is, Lotty.<br />
Then why don‘t you check here?... Spend a day on Killiney Hill.<br />
247
Yes, I‘ve thought of that... But that would neither prove or disprove Tony‘s<br />
notes... There‘s no reason to expect some kind of synchronisation.<br />
Why not? I mean, it is a game of bluff?<br />
For heaven‘s sake, Lotty...<br />
Dan...<br />
Sorry... There‘s no point in speculating. Anything could be true then... No... The<br />
best thing to do is withhold judgment on Tony‘s notes for the moment. I‘ll ask Maire to<br />
check the next time she goes home... I‘ll go out to Killiney and check this coast... Then I<br />
can compare the various sets of notes... That‘s what I will do, Lotty.<br />
That‘s sensible... You are right. Speculation leads nowhere... Are you coming to<br />
bed?<br />
Yes... It‘s early, but... It seems ages since we were at the burial, doesn‘t it?<br />
It‘s as though it never happened.<br />
Isn‘t it?... How are you?<br />
I‘m fine, Dan.<br />
That‘s good... Move over... Ahh that‘s nice.<br />
I‘ll switch off the light... It‘s almost dark already.<br />
Sweetheart... Lotty.<br />
Dan... I‘d rather not, darling... I...<br />
Oh... I understand...<br />
Just for tonight... Thank you, darling... Here... Goodnight, darling.<br />
Goodnight... Sweetheart, goodnight...<br />
What happened tonight to undo everything? Jim — like mother — sees in<br />
me only arrested maturation — because I haven‘t marr<strong>ie</strong>d, etc — ‗settled down‘,<br />
But I recognised years ago that having children serves only to displace hope on to<br />
the next generation.<br />
The trouble is of course that I can show nothing tangible for my way of<br />
life. What could it show – it is a life of negation, what Jim once called a life of<br />
refusal. He didn‘t remind me of that tonight out of charity — no wonder he can be<br />
kind to me. He said that I refused a way of life because I rejected the verbal<br />
elements of that life — that I confused the actual life with the ephemeral<br />
descriptions of it. He ignores the word and lives the life.<br />
Why didn‘t he bring this up? Perhaps he has forgotten it. He let me talk on<br />
about action and pretended not to know what I meant — yet he lives a way of life<br />
— with pat<strong>ie</strong>nce and a measure of contentment.<br />
What have I rejected? I rejected a way of life because I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it is not to<br />
be separated from the words that describe it — because those words create that<br />
life. Words create and determine Jim‘s life — outside of his control because he<br />
does not control the words – he doesn‘t know how they work on him.<br />
But I don‘t want to control my life by controlling the words which could<br />
create it – I seek to release my life from the bondage of words — that‘s what the<br />
248
anchorite in the Red God was getting at. Words are always a limitation — they<br />
reduce life to an instrumentality — to a false objectivity.<br />
But why was I so affected by him? How could fifteen years of work be<br />
overthrown so easily?<br />
What happened? I felt I could not justify my life — yes — I could not find<br />
the words — of course I couldn‘t — there are no words — there cannot be. He<br />
called my mood ‗bitterness‘ — and later ‗discouragement‘ — but the word I use is<br />
BOREDOM.<br />
If I was bored this evening, then what is boredom? I contrasted rapt-ness<br />
and boredom the other day. There boredom described a state of frustration — an<br />
inability to act when one wants to act. Rapt-ness is beyond this — it is the<br />
cessation of action.<br />
What am I trying to say?<br />
Why do I use ‗boredom‘ in one place and ‗raptness‘ in another? I wasn‘t<br />
bored in this sense tonight — there was nothing I wanted to do — I don‘t envy or<br />
covet Jim‘s circumstances. What do I mean by ‗boredom‘ — what can it be but a<br />
frustration which arises because I cannot cease to act!<br />
So ‗boredom‘ is on one hand the result of the inability to act when one<br />
wants to act — but it can also be the result of an inability to cease acting when<br />
one wants to be rapt.<br />
That means that it is not ‗true‘ action which interests me — no wonder Jim<br />
and Anne had such trouble understanding me. But why did I say it was? Why did I<br />
tell them that — (that‘s why Jim thought I was like Aiden) — why did I fool them<br />
and myself?<br />
Am I fooling myself?<br />
What do I really want? Am I really bitter — because I remain<br />
unrecognised? Is Jim right? Am I becoming discouraged?<br />
This means that I want to be famous and successful: what then? I have<br />
always regarded that as a mask and a diversion. Do I want a mask? Do I want to<br />
be diverted? But everything would be corrupted — I could not continue to do<br />
what I am doing — it‘s the same thing with ‗settling down‘ — I could not write<br />
— or think — as I do if I were marr<strong>ie</strong>d and responsible for a family — I would be<br />
a hypocrite.<br />
Am I fooling myself in my work then? — It‘s the dishonesty of writing —<br />
yes: I want silence yet I go on writing — the writing itself is a mask and a<br />
diversion.<br />
Of course — and I have known this all along.<br />
Then why do I go on writing? So I cannot forget my freedom — If I<br />
stopped I would sink into partiality — I would become an object — I write so as<br />
to maintain a resistance to the words of others: that is the limitation of human life<br />
at the moment. In a free world I would not have to write. In this world I write in<br />
order to negate the language of others — it is only in such a gap between my<br />
language and the language of others that I can maintain a tenuous freedom.<br />
That is why I talked about true action — it is the action that is possible<br />
between the languages —only such action as is possible — (what kind?) —<br />
249
obviously it would be beyond words — And that is why I felt so overborne — for<br />
a moment Jim‘s words determined me — not the words about ‗settling down‘, but<br />
the words which followed each reference he made to settling down — ‗bitterness‘<br />
and ‗discouragement‘ — the words were meant to programme a response in me: I<br />
couldn‘t reply because I had dealt with that problem years ago — I had acted it out<br />
— by not ‗settling down‘. And what appeared to be my reply — about true action<br />
— was incomprehensible to Jim because he couldn‘t treat it as criticism of his<br />
life: instead of giving him a counter-theory he could attack — in a pragmatic way<br />
– I merely told him to work it out for himself, not as a matter of theory, but of<br />
practice — of action.<br />
Why did he say I was like Aiden? Because I spoke about action and<br />
because Aiden is an active child? But Aiden is reactive and strives to destroy<br />
anything which does not reflect him. I gave him the binoculars so that he might<br />
learn to be objective and so not take everything personally. Colm already has that<br />
ability — that‘s why I was sympathetic towards him. If I am not like Aiden, then<br />
who is? Jim? Was he displacing something in himself — which he sees in Aiden?<br />
What is Jim really like?<br />
THURSDAY<br />
What is it?<br />
Oh... I‘ve woken you.<br />
Is there something wrong?... What time is it?<br />
Just after two... No... I had a dream,<br />
What about?<br />
Mother.<br />
What happened?<br />
Someone showed me a photograph of mother... I don‘t know who... it didn‘t seem<br />
important... She had her hands over her face...<br />
Is that all?<br />
Yes.<br />
You‘re upset.<br />
I had an appalling feeling, Dan... At first I wanted her to take her hands away...<br />
Then I became frightened... I became afraid she would take her hands away... I was<br />
terrif<strong>ie</strong>d of what I might see.<br />
Oh Lotty... It was a nightmare... L<strong>ie</strong> down... It was only a nightmare.<br />
I was so frightened, Dan. I felt helpless... What was I afraid of?<br />
Perhaps because she is death, Lotty... It‘s beginning to sink in.<br />
Did you dream of your parents?<br />
250
Like that?... No... Not really.<br />
But you told me once you had a nightmare about your father... Before we marr<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
Oh that...<br />
What was it?... Dan, tell me... I want to know that this horror is not mine alone.<br />
Okay... Took... Dad appeared in a dream. He was sitting down. He kept raising his<br />
arms towards me, as though beckoning me... I wouldn‘t go. I was frightened too.<br />
What happened then?<br />
I cr<strong>ie</strong>d... I woke up crying.<br />
Did you cry? You didn‘t tell me that before.<br />
Lotty, it was horrible...<br />
Why?<br />
He was helpless and I couldn‘t help him.<br />
Why were you so afraid?<br />
Alright... His head looked like a kind of orange... It was awful... It was revolting<br />
and pathetic... I cr<strong>ie</strong>d because it was my father.<br />
What kind of orange?<br />
Just like an orange, Lotty... Except it was also my father‘s head... his features I<br />
mean.<br />
Why an orange, Dan?<br />
Don‘t keep asking me that... It was orange in colour... this skin was pitted like an<br />
orange skin.<br />
Was it blood?<br />
Lotty, you are becoming morbid... There was no blood.<br />
Was it like what they call a bloody pulp?<br />
Stop it, Lotty...<br />
I want to know, Dan... In case I see... I want to be prepared.<br />
You can‘t be prepared in dreams, Lotty... Otherwise it wouldn‘t be a dream.<br />
It‘s because of the accident... The way they d<strong>ie</strong>d... You were trying to face that.<br />
Perhaps... I didn‘t analyse it... I tr<strong>ie</strong>d to forget it.<br />
The same with mother now... She must have been badly injured... Her face... Oh...<br />
She could have gone through the windscreen or something... My mother... She was<br />
attractive, Dan, wasn‘t she?<br />
Yes.<br />
Such a fine woman... Then damaged like that... Oh Dan... Oh Dan... It is so<br />
unfair... Why did she have to d<strong>ie</strong> like that?<br />
Hush... Lotty... There‘s nothing you can do now except come to terms with it.<br />
I can‘t!... Oh Dan, this is going to go on and on... I‘m trying to face it... Dan, what<br />
if she had taken her hands away?<br />
Lotty, please... Control yourself... It was only a dream... Try to remember that.<br />
But it was so real... I could see the rings on her fingers... Even the emerald her<br />
mother gave her when she was twenty-one... Oh Dan, what will I do if she shows me her<br />
face... It‘s sure to be awful... What will I do?... I‘ll lose my nerve... I‘ll fail her.<br />
Lotty, you‘re becoming hysterical...<br />
Oooooooooh...<br />
Brian... He‘s awake... Now stop it... You‘ll upset him too.<br />
251
Oh Dan... Dan... Why did mother have to d<strong>ie</strong>?... I can‘t find any answer... Oh<br />
Dan... She‘s gone now...<br />
Oooooooooh...<br />
Lotty... Oh sweetheart, it‘s so hard on you... Here... Hold me tight... As tight as<br />
you can...<br />
Oooooh...<br />
Oh Dan... I feel as if I‘m going d<strong>ie</strong>... It‘s all so awful... awful... awful.<br />
Hush, sweetheart... Hold on to me...<br />
Ooooh.<br />
Dan! Dan! Dan!... Eeeeeeeaaaa!... Oh no... no... no...<br />
Lotty... Hold on... Hold on, sweetheart.<br />
Hhhhhh!... Oh Dan... She‘s dead... Oh no... No! No!<br />
Sweetheart... Please... For our sakes... Please...<br />
Oh mother... Why?... Why, Dan?... Tell me why... Please... I don‘t understand.<br />
I don‘t understand either, Lotty... Try to accept... You‘ll hurt yourself... Try to<br />
calm yourself.<br />
Oh!<br />
Is that Brian?<br />
Yes... He doesn‘t seem to be crying.<br />
I must feed him... Let me... I‘m alright, Dan... Thank you...<br />
Are you sure?<br />
Yes... You said it would keep coming back. You were right... I forgot... I‘ll try to<br />
remember...<br />
Wait, I‘ll get Brian... Are you sure you can feed him? I can fill a bottle.<br />
No... I‘ll he alright... But bring him over... It will calm me.<br />
Okay... Hello.<br />
Oh.<br />
You‘re talking... He doesn‘t seem upset, Lotty.<br />
No... How are you, Brian?... He‘s laughing... He‘s so jolly.<br />
Yes... He does seem happy.<br />
It‘s as well he is so young... He won‘t remember.<br />
Yes.<br />
Here, Brian... Ah... He‘s hungry.<br />
I‘ll wipe your face, Lotty... Poor dear... It‘s so hard for you.<br />
Thanks, Dan... And thank you for supporting me... I know I have to deal with this<br />
myself, but thank you for helping me.<br />
I‘ll be here all the time, Lotty... You can talk about it when ever you want. You<br />
know that.<br />
Thank you. L<strong>ie</strong> down now, Dan. Go back to sleep.<br />
Are you sure you are alright?<br />
Yes. I‘ll feed Brian and then I‘ll go back to sleep.<br />
Go on. You have work to do tomorrow.<br />
I‘ll be here... Speak if you want to.<br />
No... I feel drained now.<br />
You suddenly look radiant, Lotty... What is it?<br />
252
A kind of peace... I feel quite lucid, yet I am thinking of nothing.<br />
Good... I‘m glad<br />
Go to sleep, Dan... And thank you again.<br />
Good morning, Misses MacLane.<br />
Mister Butler... Good morning... Are you ready for your breakfast?<br />
Yes. If you will.<br />
The weather hasn‘t improved at all..<br />
No... What does the forecast say?<br />
More showers... Are you going out?<br />
Yes... I‘m going to do some walking in the Wicklow Mountains<br />
I‘ll make some sandwiches for you.<br />
Oh, I can buy something, Misses MacLane.<br />
It‘ll be no trouble, Mister Butler... They‘ll be more filling than sweets. I‘ll leave<br />
them out for you in the hall... I hope you have a nice time.<br />
It‘s very kind of you, Misses MacLane<br />
Sorcha will bring the rest of your breakfast up.<br />
Thank you.<br />
You‘re awake.<br />
What time is it?<br />
About half nine... Did you sleep well?<br />
Yes... No. No more dreams... I‘m sorry about last night... Such a strain on you.<br />
It‘s alright... Don‘t worry about that... Do you want anything?<br />
Not yet... Are you going into College?<br />
I hadn‘t thought to.<br />
You should... You haven‘t been away from here for days.<br />
What about you?<br />
I‘ll rest for a while... I must go the bank later... I‘ll take Brian.<br />
Are you sure?... I can work here.<br />
No, Go in... You‘ll work better there... I‘ll be alright... It was only a spasm last<br />
night... You said they would come and go.<br />
Alright... I‘ll come home early... Take it easy, Lotty.<br />
I will...<br />
253
Brittas: For some reason Tallaght reminded me of a gigantic cemetery —<br />
houses in lines, house = head<strong>stone</strong>, garden = grave plot: a labyrinth of roads.<br />
Group of scouts on bus: for some reason taken by the freshness of their<br />
skins, which shone ruddy and sometimes cream: all of them had fair-brown hair<br />
and green-hazel eyes. Even their cloth insignia glowed: a silver fleur-de-lys on a<br />
purple background, and a green shamrock on a red cross on a blue diamond<br />
background: their main interest was centred on one tiny lad who had a huge pack<br />
— apparently he had confided to one of them that his mother had packed it for<br />
him: it was this fact, that he had allowed his mother to pack it — and the<br />
consequent size of his bag — which amused them: The poor lad was abashed, but<br />
the ragging was good humoured.<br />
The second consequence is that the identification of an object appears in<br />
an incomplete and dispersed manner in ordinary language.<br />
To say that a function determines a proposition is to say that the function<br />
correlates an argument with a truth-value. Thus there are two perspectives on the<br />
concept. At the level of ordinary language, the concept is discerned in the<br />
interchangeability of certain functions: it is the sense common to each of these<br />
functions. But no particular function exhausts the sense of the concept: while it<br />
can be said to refer suffic<strong>ie</strong>ntly to the concept in the context of the specific<br />
proposition it determines, at the same time it is the case that the other functions<br />
also refer suffic<strong>ie</strong>ntly to the concept in their specific propositional contexts. Even<br />
so, while function A conveys the sense of the concept, and function B also<br />
conveys the sense of the concept, so that some form of identity exists between fA<br />
and fB, that they both convey the sense of the concept, this does not make them<br />
identical with the concept itself. This is the incompleteness of the function.<br />
At the same time, no list of all possible functions conveying the sense of<br />
the concept — if it were possible to compile such a list — could convey the<br />
complete sense of the concept. On one hand the synonymous nature of these<br />
kindred functions would not allow for a cumulative or aggregate completeness of<br />
the sense of the concept. On the other, for the reasons given above, such a list, as a<br />
class of entit<strong>ie</strong>s — of all the functions which convey the sense of the concept —<br />
could not be identical with the concept. The incompleteness of any function is not<br />
overcome by the summation of all the (incomplete) functions. Functions are not<br />
parts of a whole — the concept. The list of all functions here — regarded again as<br />
a class — can only be designated by one or other of the functions already<br />
contained in that class.<br />
However, it is obvious that the concept determines the classification of<br />
functions, even though the class can be designated only by means of one of those<br />
functions. This does not l<strong>ie</strong>, as already argued, in an identity condition of the<br />
concept, for the functions are not identical to the concept. Instead it l<strong>ie</strong>s in the<br />
254
truth-value of the concept. It is the element common to all the functions — that<br />
they convey the sense of the concept. Thus, while the concept does not possess<br />
identity conditions, it does possess truth-value, But this truth-value is not inherent<br />
in the concept. At the point of judgment, when the truth of a thought is<br />
recognised, the independence of this truth from our recognition of it is<br />
acknowledged, But to the extent that a concept correlates with a thought-object, it<br />
contains a truth-value which is derived from judgment. What we judge is that<br />
though the concept possesses a truth-value, this truth is independent of the<br />
concept.<br />
Therefore, a concept is doubly, as it were, incomplete. The concept<br />
possesses truth-value, but it is not true in itself: thus the concept is incomplete<br />
with reference to the thought-object in that its truth-value is only an<br />
epistemological fact, not an ontological one, The concept lacks objectivity. At the<br />
same time, the concept does not possess identity conditions, identity appears only<br />
among functions which convey the sense of the same concept. It is the sense of the<br />
concept which makes possible identity between functions, but this identity appears<br />
only between functions.<br />
Thus while only the function is explicable by means of ordinary language,<br />
the nature of the function unavoidably refers to some entity which is outside<br />
ordinary language. A function correlates the argument of a proposition with a<br />
truth-value. The truth-value has sense only by reference to an entity we call a<br />
concept. Certain functions are interchangeable, that is, one can substitute one for<br />
another in a proposition, and still convey the sense of the concept. This identity<br />
between functions indicates, once again, an entity outside ordinary language, an<br />
entity we call a concept. This is because no function of the class which conveys<br />
the sense of a given concept has greater truth-value than any other function in that<br />
class: the respective truth-values are equivalent.<br />
Therefore, it is the existence of identity between certain functions which at<br />
the level of ordinary language indicates that there are entit<strong>ie</strong>s outside this language<br />
which fundamentally order and give sense to our use of that language. These<br />
entit<strong>ie</strong>s we call concepts. Concepts on one hand order functions which can be<br />
equated, The sense of these functions does not necessarily appear in their form or<br />
content; it is something which l<strong>ie</strong>s outside them. On the other hand, functions do<br />
not have truth-value merely because they are equatable, for no particular function<br />
possesses greater truth-value than any other. Their truth-value is the sense they<br />
convey, which determines propositions, and this sense l<strong>ie</strong>s outside language, in<br />
the entity called the concept.<br />
Department of the Environment,<br />
Give me Tony Hackett, please,<br />
Hold on... Putting you through... There.<br />
Yes?<br />
255
Tony?<br />
Yes... Dan?<br />
Yes... Are you busy?... You sound distracted,<br />
No... Not busy busy... I‘m... Read those notes?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good... What do you think? Do they support your theory?<br />
Actually... To he frank, Tony, they over-support it in a sense.<br />
How do you mean? How can you over-prove an argument?<br />
Thus speaks the Catholic mind?<br />
Eh?... No, Wait... Over-prove... Yes... What‘s wrong with them?<br />
Tony, if the Russians fly up and down the west coast like that... Well, it‘s like a<br />
commuter service... It would cost a bomb and t<strong>ie</strong> up a large amount of men and materials.<br />
You don‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve them?<br />
I don‘t know what to make of them... Look, it was clear on Monday while you<br />
made your observations, was it?<br />
Yes... Not on Saturday. I got soaked.<br />
Mmm?... Okay... Look, Tony, you noted eight flights south but only seven north...<br />
That means that one didn‘t go back to Russia.<br />
And?<br />
Well where did it go?<br />
I don‘t know, Dan... I just made notes of what I saw. I didn‘t try to rationalise<br />
them... Why did they fly at different heights, Dan?... And at different distances from the<br />
coast?... Can you answer me that?<br />
I can‘t. But that‘s a different kind or problem... But... Look, go back to the first<br />
point I made... Tony, there are just too many flights. They couldn‘t do that without the<br />
public noticing... Fishermen, farmers... you know...<br />
Why not?... There have been flying saucers for years and still nobody seems to<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they exist.<br />
Oh come on, Tony... Look at the cost to the Russians... This is just a little island...<br />
A few flights would he enough... not this bloody commuter service.<br />
Enough for what, Dan?... You have a set of assumptions... You are accusing me of<br />
making those notes up just because they contradict your presuppositions... What kind of<br />
empirical investigation is that?... After all, you are the academic... The expert in research.<br />
What do you think it indicates, then?<br />
That there‘s a lot of pressure being used.<br />
Why?<br />
Not against us... Against nato and the you ess... The Russians must know of a<br />
weakness somewhere.<br />
Here? These talks?<br />
Not on the phone, Dan.<br />
Okay.<br />
Have you got evidence for the east yet?<br />
No.<br />
When will you get it?<br />
This weekend... Why?<br />
256
I‘ve got a journalist lined up... Two in fact,<br />
Who?<br />
Not yet... And, look, Dan, one of them is a London journalist... Blow it wide open.<br />
But what if the east coast doesn‘t match what you have given me?<br />
Why should it?... Land-based observation,... Northern Ireland, the Hebrides... It‘ll<br />
be a token show along the Irish Sea.<br />
Tony... Look, I‘ll be frank... I still find your notes hard to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve.<br />
Same old scepticism... Okay... What will you do instead?... Do you want to go<br />
down to Renvyle for the weekend?... There‘ll he no one there... Take Charley and the<br />
baby... Have a break...<br />
Can‘t... Lotty is still upset.<br />
I can imagine... It‘s tough for her, Dan... So sudden... By the way... They used<br />
aromatics... Was there a fire?<br />
Yes.<br />
Does Charley know?<br />
No.<br />
Good... I‘ll tell Maire to watch her mouth... Do you want to meet before<br />
Saturday?... Put your mind at rest about the notes?<br />
Perhaps we should... I‘d like to hear more about your hypothesis.<br />
Okay... What about tonight?<br />
Not the same place.<br />
No... MacShane was a hit unnerving... When you‘re not used to him... Look, you<br />
go home by way of Leeson Street, don‘t you?<br />
Yes.<br />
Okay... Houricans then... At the bottom of Leeson Street... At the Green?... How<br />
about there?<br />
Okay... At about six?<br />
Six?... Early... But of course you want to get out early... Six it is... See you.<br />
Bye.<br />
Clochleagh much the same as when Jim and I used to come here as<br />
youngsters. The oak and beech trees still shade the old bridge. The Shankill river<br />
falls down over the great slabs of grey weathered granite which give the place its<br />
name. On the banks, between the trees, the moss is bright green, the humus is soft<br />
brown, and the early fallen leaves are yellow and gold. The crude mine working<br />
up the river among the trees that interested Jim — he wanted to be a geologist<br />
then. The river gets its name from the district where it rises, up under Seefin and<br />
Seahan, which was probably a cult site dedicated to St Bridget. Later, under the<br />
Normans, it was moved down to the safer environment of Manor Kilbride —as<br />
happened at Templeogue, where the sacred site was moved from the hills to the<br />
Dublin side of the Dodder river. I sheltered once in the cairn on Seefin from a<br />
thunderstorm: an appropriate place, since Bridget was the guardian of fire. It‘s<br />
257
also appropriate that the C of I church, just beyond the bridge, is dedicated to St<br />
John, on whose day the midsummer fires are lit.<br />
Crossed the Liffey at Ballysmuttan. A family messing about in a dinghy in<br />
a pool measuring twenty feet by twelve. A number taking the air from the safety<br />
of their cars — a popular Irish custom. Passed through the ruined clochan-village<br />
of Ballynatona, on the side of a hill overlooking the Liffey valley. It still retains its<br />
dense atmosphere: it must have been a claustrophobic community — but desirable<br />
in a less objective world.<br />
Just beyond Ballynultagh, with its isolated sheep farm — its owner used to<br />
keep his cigarette in his trousers pocket between puffs — I entered the amb<strong>ie</strong>nce<br />
of the mountain: the mood is cool, dark, but silent and deep — the word is<br />
compassionate.<br />
Lunching above the junction of the two main streams from the north face<br />
of Mullagh: on a mound of peat — all that is left of the blanket bog between the<br />
stream. High land all around — Kippure to the north, made distinctive by the TV<br />
mast, Corrag and Seefin to the left; Gravale and Duff Hill over to my right, with<br />
the high ridge of the Sally Gap facing me, There are no roads to be seen, no<br />
houses, and no people. The scene is pristine; the world returns to itself,<br />
Long slope up to about 2400 feet, then last steep section: can see the cleft<br />
in which the corry l<strong>ie</strong>s: rocks fringe it on the horizon: The heather is gold brown,<br />
the ground very wet. The horizons are blue-purple.<br />
Beginning to cloud up from the south. Hope it doesn‘t come down onto<br />
the mountain.<br />
Hello, Dan.<br />
David... Nice tan.<br />
In the States for a month. Seminars... A regular circus... Been away?<br />
No. Nothing of interest this summer.<br />
Don‘t let that stop you... I was with a crowd of post-structuralists... German and<br />
French mostly... Hated one another... Habermas and Derrida...<br />
And you?<br />
We were the sanity section... Myself and an old chap from Liverpool... Locke and<br />
Berkeley... The continentals found it incomprehensible... Anyway, good fun. I‘ll leave<br />
you to your lunch.<br />
Oh David... Before you go... Look, what about reason?<br />
Reason? How do you mean?... Do you mean like reasons? Causes? Explanations?<br />
Justifications?<br />
No... The thing itself,<br />
Oh, Reason... Rationality?... Well, there‘s a pragmatic reason... Judged on results<br />
and so on... or instrumental reason? Though that creates its own problems... I mean are<br />
the ends rational?<br />
Not quite... Reason in itself.<br />
258
Kant... What are you doing?... I didn‘t think politics had anything to do with<br />
Kantian reason.<br />
I‘m working up a paper on language... From my thesis... Culture and politics.<br />
I‘m afraid I don‘t know much about Kant, Dan... Sorry... And I can‘t think who<br />
you could approach here...<br />
What about concepts, then, David?<br />
Concepts?... Tricky, Dan... Have a look at Mundle... Definitely tricky terrain...<br />
Are you reading the paper here?<br />
Yes, In October.<br />
I‘ll come along... Will it be advertised?<br />
It‘s one of these memorial lectures... In the history department.<br />
I‘ll come along anyway... So long. I‘ll leave you in peace... Enjoy your lunch.<br />
Sure... Thanks anyway.<br />
Glad to help.<br />
Resting below final slope: absolute silence, except for the wind in the<br />
grass at my ears: I think I fell asleep.<br />
Cloud lower: summit still clear though. Sun still shining on Kippure and<br />
Seefin.<br />
LANGUAGE:<br />
Ordinary language is articulated in a mode of designation. Signs are<br />
arbitrary; sound and shape can vary without rules in a general linguistic sense.<br />
Within particular languages broad rules apply, but nothing beyond the<br />
conventions of a particular language can be deduced from the rules. Thus the<br />
physical articulation of a language has no bearing on its semantic structure: the<br />
structure could be used correctly if every sound and latter were changed. The text<br />
in itself determines nothing in the articulation of a language; it is merely a<br />
convention.<br />
Language is articulated, as language, within its particular semantic<br />
structure. Such structures vary from language to language. While the var<strong>ie</strong>ty of<br />
such structures shows that semantic structures are to a degree arbitrary, they are<br />
not so purely random as signs are. The semantic structure permits, but does not<br />
determine, the use of signs. This designation is effective within the semantic<br />
structure. It is this which allows verbal communication; it also allows the creation<br />
of mechanical-electronic language articulators.<br />
This level of language is the level of meaning. Language can be articulated<br />
unreflectively, as in habitual or ritualised speech, for the same reason that a<br />
language can he programmed into machines or a foreign language learned,<br />
259
ecause at the level of meaning, language is an arrangement of a superlinguistically<br />
determined semantic structure which permits the use of an arbitrary<br />
set of signs.<br />
A semantic structure is concerned primarily with permitting connections to<br />
be made between names and relations, that is between functions and arguments,<br />
subject and predicates. The procedure of connecting name and relations is a<br />
wholly practical matter. It arises from the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce and the demands of the<br />
actual world. But while the relational, that is, predictive, element is based on<br />
practical concerns in the actual world, there is an aspect of names, that is,<br />
subjects, which is not derived from the actual world.<br />
At the level of meaning, name-relation connectives, propositions, are<br />
articulated in the mode of designation, where signs are arrayed according to<br />
syntactical and semantic rules. These rules are not determinative, rather they are<br />
permissive. The syntactic rules of one language need not apply in another. Thus<br />
syntactic rules are in themselves arbitrary and are effective only as conventions,<br />
The correctness of syntax can be judged at the level of syntax alone, but this will<br />
not guarantee semantic correctness, that the statement is meaningful. Thus, ‗the<br />
dog runs‘ and ‗the dog speaks‘ are both syntactically correct, but only one of them<br />
is meaningful.<br />
Syntactical rules are general, simple — they do not admit to exceptions —<br />
and are appl<strong>ie</strong>d mechanically, precisely because they are fixed. Semantic rules are<br />
very different. They are universal: as rules of appropriate attribution, they indicate<br />
in all languages the same lists or attributions with reference to specific names.<br />
Thus, while the two sentences given in the previous paragraph could appear in<br />
different syntactic forms in different languages, the judgment as to<br />
meaningfulness would be the same. Semantic rules to not admit to exceptions, but<br />
they do allow for the extension of attributes. Thus while the statement, ‗The dog<br />
fl<strong>ie</strong>s‘, is strictly meaningless, it can he meaningful in a modern context, if the dog<br />
is carr<strong>ie</strong>d in an aircraft, for instance. For this reason, semantic rules are not<br />
appl<strong>ie</strong>d mechanically, but they are appl<strong>ie</strong>d unreflectively. This is because<br />
semantic titles are tested by reference to established lists of attributes. Such lists<br />
are not conventional, but they are usually delimited as to range by conventions of<br />
speech habits, interests and environment.<br />
Semantic rules allow the appropriate use of attributes, that is, they allow<br />
the articulation of appropriate relations. Now, while ‗attribute‘ is usually taken to<br />
indicate the qualification of a noun, it is clear that predications of a subject are<br />
also in a sense attributions: predication must also he appropriate. Semantic rules,<br />
then, allow the articulation of appropriate relations. But they do not determine<br />
their articulation. This is because relations, and their articulation, are grounded in<br />
the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of the actual world. That is to say, relations in language arise<br />
because of man‘s interest in and use of the actual world. But, even so, the actual<br />
world does not determine the articulation of relations. This is because relations are<br />
not articulated towards, or for, the actual world, but towards, or between, men.<br />
Man‘s action towards the actual world is not linguistic: a word never made an<br />
artefact. But man‘s actions towards other men can be linguistic: here a word can<br />
260
produce an action, which in turn can make an artefact. Thus linguistic relations or<br />
attributions remain<br />
Yes?... Come in.<br />
Doctor White.<br />
Miss... Hungen... Come in...<br />
Am I disturbing you?<br />
No... Hold on...<br />
purely linguistic. They have no meaningful referents in the actual world.<br />
Now.<br />
I called on Tuesday...<br />
Did you?... I‘m afraid I couldn‘t make it... My wife‘s mother was killed in a motor<br />
accident last Saturday. You...<br />
Oh, I am sorry, Doctor White... Especially sudden death.<br />
Yes. It has been very unsettling... The car just ran off the road, apparently... They<br />
were on their way to the West for the weekend.<br />
Your wife must he very shocked.<br />
She is. It was so sudden and unexpected, you see.<br />
Yes... Perhaps I should go...<br />
Oh no...<br />
I can come again next week... Yes... I don‘t mind.<br />
No... Did you read them?<br />
What?<br />
Rousseau‘s works.<br />
Oh those... I haven‘t written anything.<br />
Did you learn anything?<br />
Doctor White, Rousseau is a pain...<br />
What?<br />
He‘s such a lush... He gloats over his women.<br />
How do you mean?<br />
Look, this is off the record. Okay?... He wants to control his women. But he has<br />
nothing for them... He wants to t<strong>ie</strong> them up because he‘s afraid of them.<br />
What about freedom?... Force them to he free, I mean.<br />
261
That‘s bull, Doctor White... He doesn‘t want women to be free... He wants to be<br />
free of them... That‘s why he never discussed sexual relations in nature. He wasn‘t<br />
interested. His noble savage is a neuter.<br />
Will you he able to support that opinion?<br />
Oh sure... By inference... You see, Doctor White, Rousseau‘s theor<strong>ie</strong>s are<br />
aesthetic theor<strong>ie</strong>s. He writes about nice living... Simple pleasures... To hell with how we<br />
actually live...<br />
That‘s interesting, Miss Hungen... Some work has been done on that... have you<br />
read it?<br />
On what, Doctor White?<br />
On the theory that aesthetics underl<strong>ie</strong>s bourgeois thinking... ideology... Not<br />
politics or the actual world, I mean... have you read any thing on that?<br />
No.<br />
You should... I‘ll dig out the references... It could he an interesting thesis, Miss<br />
Hungen.<br />
Oh, sure.<br />
You seem disappointed... What had you expected?<br />
Something more concrete, I guess, Doctor White... He never deals with the<br />
problem... always sentiment, sentiment. Never anything concrete... He just didn‘t know<br />
anything about<br />
What made you think he did?<br />
I have a fr<strong>ie</strong>nd... Back in New York... .He always talked about Rousseau and<br />
freedom... I guess I thought there was something in it... It‘s a front... Rousseau couldn‘t<br />
do it, Doctor.<br />
Perhaps you can try to do it... I mean the relations between the sexes, Miss<br />
Hungen.<br />
Sure... I‘ll tell you, Doctor. The sexes are not symmetrical... They don‘t just fit<br />
together. One of them always has to be on top...<br />
Will you he able to develop it as a social theory, do you think?<br />
I reckon so... I‘ll work on this thing first... The personal relations.<br />
Sure... But keep the social aspect in context, will you? Don‘t drift into sociology<br />
or psychology... It is meant to be political theory.<br />
Sure... I‘ll give you drafts... Thanks, Doctor White,<br />
But don‘t take it too much to heart... It‘s only theory. Did you have a nice<br />
weekend?<br />
It rained... We had a prowler.<br />
Did you? What happened?<br />
The Warden chased him off... Jacinta saw him... It was an old man. She said he<br />
was drunk... Warden says it happens all the time. They climb in from the sports ground at<br />
the back... I‘ll go... Sorry to have disturbed you.<br />
Oh no... We had an appointment, after all... Oh, by the way, Miss Hungen... Are<br />
you free on Saturday night?<br />
Yes.<br />
262
Would you like to come to a small party?... It will be very informal... My wife and<br />
I... We planned to celebrate the birth of our son... We‘ve decided to go ahead with it...<br />
Would you like to come?... Just a small gathering,<br />
Yes, I would... And thank you.<br />
It‘s fifteen Carlisle Avenue... Off Marlborough Road. Will you be able to find it?<br />
There‘s a map at the hostel... It‘s not far from Sandymount?<br />
No. Not at all... Come about eight.<br />
I look forward to it.<br />
Well, goodbye then... See you Saturday.<br />
Yes... See you...<br />
It is important to understand that the actual world does not determine<br />
language use. This can be shown in a number of ways. In the first place, it is selfevident<br />
that a linguistic sign is not equivalent to what is taken to be its referent in<br />
the actual world. A linguistic sign is formally, materially and characteristically<br />
quite different from things in the actual world: the representation is totally indirect<br />
— there is no mirroring of the actual thing in the sign. Therefore, in order that the<br />
linguistic sign be an effective representation of an actual thing, there must be an<br />
intermediary which effectively connects the sign with the thing.<br />
Secondly, a statement does not pretend to imitate the action or state of<br />
affairs it refers to. All statements have common syntactical and semantic forms,<br />
even though the actions and states they refer to have quite different forms. Once<br />
again, there must be an intermediary which connects statements and actual actions<br />
and states of affairs. As well as this, if the actual world determined statements all<br />
the events, clown to quite miniscule details, occurring in the actual world in<br />
association with the referred to action or state would have to be included in the<br />
statement. If this does not happen, then one would need to know how it is possible<br />
for the actual world to select aspects of the action or state for inclusion in the<br />
statement and omit others. For instance, are particular actions or states of affairs<br />
themselves capable of such discrimination? Can a dog determine how we shall<br />
speak of it? Or can ‗running‘ determine that we now state that it (‗running‘) is<br />
being instanced in the dog? If discrimination is not undertaken by the particulars<br />
referred to in our statement, then what undertakes it? Is there a central faculty of<br />
discrimination in the actual world, which simultaneously and unceasingly<br />
determines all the statements of billions of men?<br />
Perhaps then determination occurs at the level of meaning, It is meaning<br />
which selects from the totality of things and events involved in any action or state<br />
of affairs in the actual world, leaving aside for the moment the obvious fact of the<br />
complete discontinuity of sign and referent, the question can he asked: How does<br />
meaning discriminate in a particular instance? How does meaning select among<br />
the actual totality to produce the statement, ‗The dog runs‘? One‘s first instinct is<br />
to indicate this activity in the actual world. But this is only to turn the actual dog<br />
263
actually running into signs. In effect, the actual activity indicated becomes a<br />
signifying equivalent of the statement, ‗The dog runs‘? To indicate the scene in<br />
the actual world without making the selective statement about the running dog<br />
might easily lead to misunderstanding, for the other might think you referred to<br />
the trees in the background, the clouds (perhaps heralding rain), or even your own<br />
finger!<br />
Meaning, then, does not select by means of indication or reference to the<br />
actual world. At most, the actual referent can serve merely as a signification of<br />
equivalence to the verbal statement. And as in the case of all equivalences among<br />
signs, none can claim pre-eminence in terms of meaning, only in practical terms<br />
as to economy or contextual intelligibility. Thus reference to the actual world<br />
would not establish the meaning-determination.<br />
If meaning cannot select in particular instances, is there instead a central<br />
faculty of discrimination? Is human intention such a faculty? This would mean<br />
that human intention is determined by meaning, insofar as selection would be<br />
selection of meaning, thus human intention would be confined to the level of<br />
meaning. But this is obviously not the case. On the one hand, human intention can<br />
be evidenced in the actual world without reference to linguistic meaning. Human<br />
beings do things without being compelled to make meaningful statements about<br />
them. Human beings can also l<strong>ie</strong>: they can misrepresent their actions and<br />
intentions in language. Thus human intention could select as significatory<br />
statements which have no actual referents and which do not possess the meanings<br />
they appear to have.<br />
Nonetheless, untrue statements possess meanings: untrue statements are<br />
not meaningless semantically. Moreover, the intention to tell a l<strong>ie</strong> does not appear<br />
in an untrue statement: one of the purposes of such a statement is in fact to hide<br />
the human intention behind it. It is clear that the meaningfulness of a statement is<br />
not merely the truth of that statement. Nor, as has been shown, is it the reference<br />
value or accuracy of the statement. It would seem then that the meaningfulness of<br />
a statement is independent of human intention and or the actual world. In that<br />
case, meaning must be a linguistic phenomenon, arising in language and always<br />
situated in language. This means that meaning is not put into statements, as<br />
though language were meaningless until meaning is added. Correct within certain<br />
conventional tolerances, syntactically and semantically, meaningful statements are<br />
just meaningful. They are not a string of empty signs and then suddenly<br />
meaningful. This is not to be confused with the comprehension of statements,<br />
where such a sentence can be exper<strong>ie</strong>nced. In terms of meaning, a statement is<br />
either meaningful or it is not. A statement can be ambiguous in meaning, but here<br />
it is either a matter of grasping the meaning or not, or of grasping one or more of a<br />
number of alternative meanings. Meaning is either there or it is not. Nor does<br />
meaning ‗leak‘ out of language. The meaningfulness of a statement does not put<br />
meaning into the actual world: the only meaning to be found in the actual world is<br />
a sign-equivalence of the meaningful statement about the world. Nor does a<br />
meaningful statement ‗reflect‘ a meaning in human intention, Once again, to elicit<br />
264
meaning in human intention is to establish a sign-equivalence of the statement,<br />
expressed in other statements.<br />
The actual world and human intention are then, strictly speaking,<br />
meaningless. They only appear meaningful by being turned into signs. But<br />
signification has no immediate effect on either the actual world or human<br />
intention: naming them does not change what they are intrinsically. But language<br />
is an instrument of communication. Meaning then can be inter-subjective. But in<br />
what way? A meaningful communication can have an effect. For instance, as a<br />
result one could act or know or understand something new. But it is clear that a<br />
human act is meaningful only to the extent that it can he made into a signequivalence.<br />
But the act itself is not a sign activity. To say that one is closing the<br />
door because another has stated that there is a draught is not to turn an action into<br />
a language. The physical effort involved does not appear in the statement, it is<br />
only represented in signs. On the other hand, to learn something new seems to he<br />
no more than to replicate the statement equivalently. To be told that the President<br />
is dead could he retained in memory in that form or else in the form ‗N is dead‘, N<br />
being the name of the President. Understanding seems more like the case of a<br />
statement which produces an action. To he told that the number of people<br />
unemployed is dropping could lead to the understanding that the recession is<br />
easing. Again, a new statement, with a different meaning, has been generated. But<br />
in both cases, these new statements are based on other meaningful statements,<br />
which include both statements: such as, in the case of the action, ‗Closing a door<br />
will prevent draughts‘, and in the case of understanding ‗A fall in unemployment<br />
figures can indicate that the recession is easing‘. The point is that in both cases the<br />
activit<strong>ie</strong>s, physical and mental, are quite distinct from the statements associated<br />
with them.<br />
Even in human communication meaning is self-referential. Questions<br />
about the meaningfulness of a statement lead either to the generation of statements<br />
of equivalent meaning or to statements that combine the meanings of other, quite<br />
different, statements; combinatory statements, moreover, which convey equivalent<br />
meanings of the other statements. Three things are to he noticed from this. In the<br />
first place, meaning only appears in signification. To discover meaning is to discover<br />
signs. To the extent that meaning cannot be found anywhere other than in<br />
signs impl<strong>ie</strong>s that signs are irreducibly meaningful. It is true that statements can be<br />
meaningless. But this is a matter of syntax and semantics. It does not mean that<br />
the various words in the statement are of themselves meaningless, at least in the<br />
case whore whole words have been used. (A random set of letters is not linguistic;<br />
the question of meaning does not arise at all.) This suggests that irreducible<br />
meaning resides in language at the level of words. But it is obvious that this is not<br />
so. On the question of the meaning of individual words, a distinction arises<br />
between the meaning of a word and its meaningfulness. The statement, ‗The dog<br />
runs‘, has both meaning, equivalent statements can be given, and meaningfulness,<br />
it conveys full meaning. On the other hand, the words ‗dog‘ and ‗runs‘ have<br />
meaning, equivalent words or defining statements can he given, but they lack<br />
meaningfulness. To utter ‗dog‘ is to beg the question ‗dog — what?‘; likewise<br />
265
‗runs‘ begs the question ‗what runs?‘. Thus while words in a meaningless<br />
statement retain meaning, they are only meaningful by reference to other,<br />
meaningful statements.<br />
Only statements can be meaningful. But to the extent that language is a<br />
practical instrument of communication, that is, of articulation, the fact that<br />
individual words appear to have meaning is trivial, hiding as it does the<br />
fundamental role of words as elements in statements. Again, a preoccupation with<br />
meaning alone hides the fact that language is about meaningfulness, the<br />
communication of meaning.<br />
The second thing to be noticed is the fixity of meaning of statements. All<br />
explications of the meaning of the statement ‗The dog runs‘ will retain the<br />
meaning of that statement. This is true even if the meaning is explicated by means<br />
of logical symbolism, reference to the actual world, or translation into other<br />
languages. The signs used in explication can differ greatly from the signs in the<br />
statement in English, but they will both remain signs and convey an equivalent<br />
meaning. But it is obvious that there is a sense in which an equivalent statement in<br />
another sign-system is different from the statement in English. How then is<br />
meaning retained? On one level, meaning is retained because the translator of the<br />
statement from one sign-system to another can recognise the equivalence of the<br />
original statement and the translated version. But such an equivalence cannot<br />
always be detailed in terms of the respective systems of signs. Word order, the<br />
number of words, the physical appearance of the signs can differ greatly, even to<br />
the extent that no equivalence other than the meaning itself exists. This suggests<br />
that while meaning always appears as signification, it is not t<strong>ie</strong>d to any particular<br />
set of signs: in certain circumstances, as in the case of translation between very<br />
different sign-systems, meaning appears, if only for an instant, to float free of<br />
signification altogether. How is this possible?<br />
Summit: curious incident: cloud came down as I climbed last steep slope:<br />
must have lost my footing: fell on to my back: couldn‘t move or speak: convinced<br />
I was paralysed: don‘t know how long I lay there. A man came and helped me up:<br />
I found I could walk, but could not talk: I thanked him in sign language (he<br />
probably assumed I was dumb): Sitting on some rocks near summit: group around<br />
summit marker: everything grey. Back sore: hope I can get down without help.<br />
Curiosity: p1aque on rock beside me commemorating three youth<br />
hostellers who were drowned off Clogher head in July 1945 — strange that the<br />
commemoration should be on top of a mountain: strange that they should have<br />
d<strong>ie</strong>d in the month of my birth.<br />
266
Tony.<br />
Dan.<br />
I‘m late... Finishing something.<br />
That‘s okay... What will you have? A pint?<br />
No... A sherry... Dry,<br />
Sure... Jimmy! Dry sherry, if you will... What are you working on? Isn‘t this<br />
vacation time?<br />
A lecture I‘m to give in October...<br />
Oh that... I remember. About truth?... Yes... How is it going?<br />
Plugging away at it...<br />
Thanks, Jimmy... Here... Your health, Dan.<br />
Yes... Yours... Thanks.<br />
Will we sit down?... There‘s usually room at the back... Philosophical?<br />
Not really... Language theory at the moment.<br />
You know, Dan, it‘s strange you didn‘t stay in history. You were brilliant.<br />
I didn‘t want to spend my life at it.<br />
You turned down the chance to do research at Cambridge... We were all very<br />
surprised, you know... Some of the teaching staff too...<br />
Were they?<br />
Yes... They were building you up for Cambridge... The Cliffords especially.<br />
You mean they over-marked my essays?<br />
No!... No. Not that... They tr<strong>ie</strong>d to give you confidence, Dan.<br />
They aren‘t particularly good academics.<br />
No?... Who then?<br />
Cunningham.<br />
Was he your idea of a brilliant academic?... He was a snob.<br />
A defence, Tony... He was incredibly isolated... I agree he was indifferent to us<br />
students.<br />
He was a waffler, Dan... A prima donna... He would have been happ<strong>ie</strong>r at Oxford<br />
or Cambridge.<br />
True.<br />
You were impressed by his style?<br />
No... He worked, Tony... I wasn‘t interested in his period... But he worked at it. I<br />
respected that.<br />
Like you?<br />
I don‘t have a clear-cut area... I don‘t know what I‘m interested in.<br />
Perhaps you‘re a philosopher manqué.<br />
No... Will you have another pint?<br />
Sure... Hold on... Jimmy!... Sherry?<br />
No. I‘ll have a pint too.<br />
Two pints!<br />
Thanks... I‘m not a philosopher, Tony... I‘m following my nose... I assume I will<br />
find something sooner or later.<br />
Then this work you‘re doing now... It might be of no use to you?... You‘ll just put<br />
it aside?<br />
267
It‘s a means to an end.<br />
You have great faith, Dan... I mean, what if it leads to nothing?<br />
It won‘t... Ah.<br />
Thanks, Jimmy.<br />
Here you are... Thanks... Your health, Tony.<br />
Your health... You‘re sure of that?<br />
Yes... Even to disprove a theory is something.<br />
Negative... I mean, if you are serious, it will he a waste of a life.<br />
Better than fooling myself that I know something.<br />
God, you are serious... It‘s only a job, Dan. A good, comfortable job... Are you<br />
having some kind of crisis?<br />
Crisis?<br />
Okay, I won‘t be nosey... It‘s just that it seems to me you‘re taking it too much to<br />
heart... You have a comfortable life... A fine wife and now a child... What more do you<br />
want? If you want to he famous...<br />
No!... Sorry, Tony... Perhaps you don‘t understand... There are differences,<br />
You mean because you are a protestant?... I‘ve always sensed that. A kind of<br />
emotion... Something bottled up in you.<br />
No... No. Not that... Not religion... Is that what you mean?<br />
Your background...<br />
My ancestors were farmers in County Waterford.<br />
I know. That‘s not what I mean.<br />
What then?<br />
No... I‘ll get it wrong, Dan... You tell me.<br />
There are differences, aren‘t there?... You see, it‘s like... Oh damn!<br />
Hey... It‘s okay, Dan... The glass didn‘t break... Oh Jimmy... Look. An accident...<br />
Will you bring another one.<br />
No... I think I‘ll go, Tony.<br />
No you won‘t... Sit down, Dan. Sit down... Bring over two, Jimmy... It‘s okay,<br />
Dan... It happens all the time... Do you remember that weekend in Westport? The history<br />
congress? I fell on to a table full of drink. It cost me over ten pounds then to replace<br />
them... That‘s about twenty-five now... Take it easy... Ah... Good man, Jimmy... Thanks...<br />
Now take a sup, Dan. It‘ll settle you down... Your health.<br />
Drinking on an empty stomach.<br />
You‘re probably distracted... Now... Relax, man... We don‘t have to talk about it<br />
anyway.<br />
No... Yes... Tony, as a child, did you ever feel that you knew something no one<br />
else knew?<br />
A secret? I had plenty of secrets...<br />
No... Something inside you... As though you had been born knowing it?<br />
I‘m not sure I know what you mean... It sounds like self-consciousness.<br />
It wasn‘t... I knew something that made me... well, warm.<br />
What was it?<br />
268
I don‘t remember... Once, when I was <strong>stone</strong>d... with Graham Fr<strong>ie</strong>dman... I<br />
remembered, I know I remembered, but I can‘t remember what it was... Do you<br />
understand that?<br />
Yes. Happens all the time to me... A thomist would call it a mood, not a thought.<br />
A mood? Is that so?... Yes... But I did know it, Tony... It wasn‘t simply a feeling.<br />
There were images associated with it.<br />
What sort of images?<br />
A kind of place... Like a garden... But not specific.<br />
Garden of Eden?<br />
Okay then...<br />
I‘m not teasing you...<br />
Thus never exper<strong>ie</strong>nced that?<br />
I don‘t know... I don‘t remember.<br />
It was a kind of mood alright... That‘s a good description, Tony... I mean it was<br />
persisting. Not like a thought or a memory which comes and goes.<br />
I see... Anyway, why did you ask in the first place?<br />
I thought of it after I had knocked the glass over...<br />
That‘s what you‘re searching for, is it?<br />
Goodness no... I‘m not looking for my lost childhood.<br />
Well, I‘m not a psychologist, Dan. But it seems strange that just as you were about<br />
to tell me what the difference is, you should have that accident and then remember a<br />
mood you had as a child... Was it a coincidence?<br />
The shock, most likely... I‘m not used to knocking over glasses in a public house.<br />
Okay... That‘s fair enough for me... What were you going to say?... When you<br />
knocked the drink over, I mean.<br />
Oh that... Something to the effect that I feel as though I am living in a shell...<br />
Oh, I know that feeling anyway, Dan.<br />
Do you?<br />
In the world, but not able to touch it?<br />
In a way... Do out exper<strong>ie</strong>nce that too?<br />
Of course. Who doesn‘t?... Everything has changed so much.<br />
For you?<br />
You mean as an Irish Catholic in the Irish Catholic Republic, don‘t you?<br />
I suppose so... But you seem at home here.<br />
So do you.<br />
Uhh.<br />
You‘re surprised, Dan... You generate the difference, you know... This is the<br />
nineteen eight<strong>ie</strong>s, Dan... The differences are trivial now... You ought to know that. You‘re<br />
the one with the theory about the world-power struggle for this island... Well?<br />
Perhaps we should have another drink.<br />
You‘ll get sloshed... What about Charley? Is she on her own?<br />
You‘re right... Will you come back for dinner, then?<br />
No... I have to go out anyway... We can talk on Saturday.<br />
Yes... You are coming, aren ‘ t you?<br />
Of course... Drink your drink.<br />
269
Good... It‘s interesting, Tony... The connections you made, I mean... My mind is a<br />
set of compartments.<br />
Whose isn‘t?... Come on, I‘ll drop you off.<br />
No. I‘d rather walk, Tony.<br />
Looks like rain... The cloud to the south.<br />
I‘ve got my slick... In the br<strong>ie</strong>fcase... Clear my head.<br />
Okay... I‘ll see you on Saturday.<br />
Yes... Oh, have you asked your fr<strong>ie</strong>nd? The writer.<br />
Dick?<br />
Yes... Lotty is reading his book.<br />
He wasn‘t in... I‘ll try again later. But I will ask him.<br />
Good... It should be interesting, Tony.<br />
It should... Don‘t get wet... See you.<br />
Goodbye, Tony... And thanks.<br />
Snada... Don‘t fall over a bus...<br />
Hitched a lift from Lacken to Blessington. Back not too had, but left knee<br />
crocked: holding my left arm crooked across my stomach for some reason<br />
(actually, I‘ve been carrying it like that all day).<br />
Used map and wind to guide myself off Mullagh: at one point strayed,<br />
cloud lifted long enough for me to see that I was beginning to descend into<br />
Glenbride — would have put me miles out: again, out on col, cloud lifted off so I<br />
could see direction to Black Hill, which I had to cross: fortuitous. Caught<br />
glimpses of Ballynultagh below, bright in sunlight, like another world. Coming<br />
down bog road to metalled road to Lacken, a raven flew up from Ballynultagh<br />
direction, over col and down towards Lacken, between me and Mullagh: cry:<br />
Hhruahgh! Hhruahgh! Hhruahgh!<br />
Filled with a sense of ‗life‘ as I came down (often opposite — anticlimax):<br />
sexual, of course: image of a comforting woman (no one I know).<br />
On road to Lacken, cloud clearing to south-west: Blessington lake bathed<br />
in such a gold light that I found myself forced to look away: incredibly beautiful<br />
and poignant: one would need to be remarkably ‗innocent‘ to confront it honestly.<br />
Sun came put as I approached Lacken.<br />
Oh, Dan... I didn‘t hear you... Have you been in long?<br />
A while... Have you eaten?... I can fix something for myself if you have.<br />
No... Not yet... I was feeding Brian... Are you wet?... Your trousers,<br />
No. I had the slick... I‘ll make some tea.<br />
Are you alright?<br />
270
Yes!... Yes, Lotty... I had a drink with Tony Hackett,<br />
Did you ask him about his report... on the jet trails?<br />
He stands by it... He said I can‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it because I presupposed something<br />
different.<br />
Do you accept that?<br />
As an argument?... Of course, but it doesn‘t prove that his notes are true,<br />
What will you do?<br />
I don‘t know... He offered to let us have their house in Connemara for the<br />
weekend... So I could check for myself...<br />
That‘s a good idea, Dan. It would clear up your doubts.<br />
Not this weekend... I didn‘t think you would want to go.<br />
I would... We haven‘t been away since June. After all that has happened a break<br />
would be a good idea.<br />
I hadn‘t thought you would go... Well, I‘ll speak to him... Perhaps the weekend<br />
after next.<br />
Yes... Do... It would be nice, Dan.<br />
Very well... Here... Do you want tea?<br />
Mmm... Thanks... I‘ll prepare dinner... Go inside if you want.<br />
No...<br />
What‘s wrong?<br />
Oh... The drink seems to have dulled me...<br />
You drank on an empty stomach.<br />
Yes... What did you do today?<br />
Shopping... We went to Stillorgan for a change... Oh, and I went through mother‘s<br />
papers this afternoon.<br />
You should give them to her solicitor... I know they‘ll come to you but perhaps it<br />
might be better.<br />
I‘ll ring him tomorrow and tell him I have them.<br />
And the other things... Make a list.<br />
I found some old papers, Dan... I didn‘t know she had them.<br />
What are they about?<br />
I think they are deeds. It‘s hard to read them... Peculiar abbreviations... Hold on.<br />
I‘ll get them... Look... Some of them are very old... Can you read them?<br />
Vellum... There‘s a date. Seventeen forty-five.<br />
Two hundred and forty years ago.<br />
Yes... Will I read some of it?<br />
Do.<br />
It‘s a indenture... There‘s a short p<strong>ie</strong>ce here... The beginning is illegible.<br />
Anyway... Name of Robert O‘Connor for divers good courses and... illegible... But more<br />
especially for and in consideration of the sum of fifty and eight pounds and eighteen<br />
shillings and four pence sterling to me... Paid by the said John Bax as and before the<br />
sealing and delivery of these presents the receipt hereof I do hereby acknowledge do by<br />
these presents for me and my heirs and assigns consent to and approve of the within deed<br />
of lease as a lease for life now and forever unto the said John Bax his heirs and assigns<br />
and do by these presents for the consideration aforesaid declare my consent thereunto as a<br />
271
lease for lives renewable for ever and as such do hereby for me and my heirs and assigns<br />
ratify and confirm the same and to these presents shall be deemed taken and construed to<br />
all... I can‘t make out the next three words... anyway... as my full consent thereunto both<br />
in law and equity as witness my hand and seal this thirty-first day of December in the year<br />
of our Lord one thousand and seven hundred and forty-five... Signed sealed and delivered<br />
in the presence of Pat Burke and Dennis O‘Kelly... It‘s signed by Samuel O‘Connor... See<br />
his seal... An animal‘s head I think.<br />
Yes... Will you read the other side?<br />
Sure... This indenture made the twenty-second day of December in the year of our<br />
Lord one thousand and seven hundred and forty-five between Robert O‘Connor of<br />
Lissalway in the County of Roscommon esquire on the one part and John Bax of<br />
Scramoge in the said county gent of the other part... Witnesseth that the said Robert<br />
O‘Connor hath for and in consideration of the rents... looks like covents... and agreements<br />
hereinafter mentioned observed and expressed doth hereby demise give grant set release<br />
and confirm unto the said John Bax his heirs and assigns in his the said John Bax‘s actual<br />
possession now being by virtue of a bargain and sale to him thereof made by the said<br />
Robert O‘Connor for one whole year by Indenture bearing date the next day next before<br />
the date hereof in consideration of five shillings sterling paid to him the said Robert<br />
O‘Connor by the said John Bax and by force of the statute for transferring uses into<br />
possession all that and those the town and lands of Megstown and Ardnasnage with their<br />
subdenominations now in the possession of the said John Bax containing by... next word<br />
illegible... estimation about three hundred and fifty acres plantation measure be the same<br />
more or less in as large and ample measure as the said John Bax now holds and enjoys the<br />
same together with all and singular the ways waters water courses members appendances<br />
and appurtenances thereunto belonging or in any wise appertaining which said... word<br />
illegible... are situate lying and being in the barony of Castlerea and said County of<br />
Roscommon to have and to hold the said premises with the appurtenances unto the said<br />
John Bax his heirs and assigns to commence from the eight day of August last past for<br />
and during the natural life and lives of Simon Bax Thomas Bax and John Bax three of the<br />
sons of Adam Bax and the survivors and survivor of them respectively and for and during<br />
the life and lives of all and every... word illegible... or for and persons as shall at all times<br />
for ever hereafter be inserted in the room or places of any other life or lives as they shall<br />
hereafter happen to d<strong>ie</strong> y<strong>ie</strong>lding and paying therefore and thereout yearly and every year<br />
during the said term hereby granted unto the said Robert O‘Connor or his heirs and<br />
assigns the clear yearly rent or sum of ten shillings by the acre for each and every acre the<br />
said I and contains over and above all taxes and county charges whatsoever quit rent and<br />
crown rent only excepted by two equal and half yearly payments the first payment thereof<br />
to he made on the fifth day of February next and the second payment thereof to he made<br />
on the eighth day of August following and so to continue from half year to half year<br />
during the said term provided... Must catch my breath, Lotty,<br />
Is that all?<br />
Oh no... Less than half... It goes on then about O‘Connor can do if the rent isn‘t<br />
paid... He can take stock and such and sell it... Then... About not damaging the property.<br />
And... Wait... There‘s a reference to Samuel O‘Connor... Bax paid him fifty pounds to<br />
agree to the bargain... Yes, listen... Provided always and it is upon this condition that the<br />
272
said John Bax shall not at any the hereafter procure the consent of Mister Samuel<br />
O‘Connor second son of the said Robert O‘Connor to the present deed of lease as a lease<br />
for lives renewable for ever that then and in such case these presents shall be deemed and<br />
taken as a lease for three lives only without any clause or covenant for renewal anything<br />
therein contained to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding... It looks as though Bax<br />
forfeited the right to permanent renewal... Why did they keep this deed then?... Hold on...<br />
Ah... This is for an exchange of lands... To straighten the boundar<strong>ie</strong>s, it‘s between<br />
Andrew MacDermott of Boyle and Samuel Richards of Knockclare... That must he your<br />
ancestor.<br />
Yes... But go on.<br />
Samuel Richards is holding the lands of Megstown and Ardnasnage under<br />
Andrew MacDermott... I quote... the propr<strong>ie</strong>tor thereof by virtue of a lease for lives<br />
renewable for ever... Ah... Samuel Richards is now holding the lease... And the leaser is<br />
no longer O‘Connor.<br />
Perhaps he bought the property, Dan.<br />
But how did your family come to possess the lease?... Hold on... This one seems<br />
to contain a summary... Will I read it to you?<br />
Yes.<br />
Okay... This indenture made the fifth day of November in the year of our Lord one<br />
thousand and eight hundred and twenty-four between John MacDermott of the City of<br />
Dublin esquire of the one part and Philip Richards of Knockclare in the County of<br />
Roscommon esquire on the other part... Whereas by deeds of lease and release hearing<br />
date respectively the twenty first and twenty second days of December in the year one<br />
thousand and seven hundred and forty-five and made by and between Robert O‘Connor of<br />
Lissalway in the County of Roscommon esquire of the one part and John Bax then of<br />
Scramoge in the said county gentleman of the other part he the said Robert O‘Connor did<br />
demise give grant set release and confirm unto the said John Bax his heirs and assigns all<br />
that and those the town and lands of Megstown and Ardnasnage with their<br />
subdenominations then in the possession or occupation of the said John Bax containing<br />
by common estimation about three hundred and fifty acres plantation measure be the<br />
same more or less in as large and ample manner as the said John Bax then and enjoyed<br />
the same together with all and singular the ways waters... This is just a copy of the earl<strong>ie</strong>r<br />
deed... Hold on... The consent of Samuel O‘Connor is accepted... Without affecting the<br />
seventeen forty-five deed apparently... Now... Yes... And whereas the fee and inheritance<br />
in and to the said lands and premises and the right of granting renewal are legally vested<br />
in the John MacDermott party hereto and the estate and interest and all benefit of renewal<br />
which the said John Bax had in the said lands and premises are now legally vested in the<br />
said Philip Richards party hereto... So this is a lease between MacDermott and your<br />
ancestor, Lotty... It goes on... And whereas the said Simon Bax Thomas Bax and John<br />
Bax the three cestuique v<strong>ie</strong>s named in the said indenture of release are all dead and the<br />
said Philip Richards hath nominated unto the said John MacDermott the lives of John<br />
Richards and Thomas Beard Richards second and third sons of the said Philip Richards<br />
party hereto and Thomas Burton eldest son of the reverend William Burton of Boyle in<br />
the said County Roscommon clerk to be added and inserted in these presents in the room<br />
273
and stead of the said Simon Bax Thomas Bax and John Bax the said deceased cestuique<br />
v<strong>ie</strong>s... His sons and Burton are added in place of the Baxes.<br />
But how did Philip Richards get the land, Dan?<br />
It doesn‘t say... Perhaps he marr<strong>ie</strong>d into it... The next deed seems to be a marriage<br />
contract... Yes... There are some details here. I‘ll read you the opening part to give you a<br />
flavour of it... This indenture made the thirt<strong>ie</strong>th day of September eighteen thirty between<br />
the reverend John Beard Richards of Athleague in the County of Roscommon clerk of the<br />
first part, Mary Bradshaw an infant under the age of twenty-one years that is to say being<br />
of the age of eighteen or thereabouts one of the children of Benjamin Bradshaw of<br />
Brideswell in the County of Roscommon deceased and a ward of his Majesty‘s High<br />
Court of Chancery in Ireland and Jane Bradshaw widow of the said Benjamin Bradshaw<br />
the mother of the said Mary and also guardian of the said Mary duly appointed by the said<br />
High Court of Chancery in Ireland in pursuance of an Order of the said Court hereinafter<br />
recited of the second part and William Blosse Mortimer of Cong in the County of Galway<br />
and James Comin of Silver Hill in the County of Sligo esquires of the third part... Then<br />
they go on to recap on the leases, Lotty... And then earl<strong>ie</strong>r settlements... And whereas by<br />
deed of settlement executed subsequent to the intermarriage of the said Philip Richards<br />
with Jane Beard the mother of the said John bearing date about the third day of November<br />
eighteen oh four, the said Philip Richards charged the said lands of Megstown with a<br />
yearly sum of one hundred pounds late Irish currency as part or the Jointure thereby<br />
provided for the said Jane in the event of her surviving the said Philip Richards her<br />
husband and thereby also charged the said lands of Megstown with other lands therein for<br />
that purpose mentioned with a sum of two thousand five hundred pounds like currency<br />
for younger children the issue of said marriage subject to such power of appointment by<br />
the said Philip Richards as therein mentioned, and whereas the said Philip Richards d<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
on or about the twenty seventh day of August eighteen twenty-seven leaving the said Jane<br />
his widow and several younger children the issue of his said marriage surviving having<br />
duly made and published his last will and testament in writing attested in such manner as<br />
required by the said deed of settlement of the third of November eighteen oh four and<br />
thereby pursuant to said power of appointment by the same deed of settlement vested in<br />
him for that purpose appointed the said sum of two thousand five hundred pounds<br />
amongst his younger children as therein particularly mentioned and thereby charged and<br />
incumbered the said lands of Megstown with the payment of one thousand two hundred<br />
and fifty pounds like currency part of the said sum of two thousand five hundred pounds<br />
and the remaining part thereof namely one thousand two hundred arid fifty pounds like<br />
currency he the said testator charged exclusively on the other lands in the said will<br />
mentioned and of the sum of one thousand two hundred and fifty pounds so charged on<br />
the said lands of Megstown he the said testator appointed two hundred and fifty pounds<br />
for his son the said John Beard Richards being one of his said younger children and<br />
subject to the said sum of one thousand two hundred and fifty pounds so charged thereon<br />
as aforesaid the said testator devised the said lands of Megstown unto Thomas Camden<br />
Beard and Richard Shortt trustees therein named their heirs and assigns upon trust to<br />
permit and suffer the said John Beard Richards and his assigns to take the rents and<br />
profits thereof for and during his life without impeachment of waste without remainder to<br />
the said trustees during the life of the said John Beard Richards to preserve contingent<br />
274
emainders and from and after his decease the use of such male child and children of the<br />
said John and for such estate and estates... Hah... Get my breath... It‘s one long sentence,<br />
Will you come over... This is ready... It sounds like the legal background to a Jane<br />
Austen novel, Dan. Torturous.<br />
Isn‘t it?... Apparently they are so long because legal scribes got paid by the<br />
measure. The longer the document the more they were paid. So they made them as long<br />
as possible... Trout?<br />
Yes... I grilled them with butter, pepper and lemon... They look nice but they<br />
don‘t have a great flavour.<br />
You didn‘t know about any of this?<br />
No. Mother was always vague about it... But she was proud of her family.<br />
The Richards?... What about her father‘s people, the Burkes?<br />
She didn‘t know much about them, I expect... You‘re curious... Well, he came<br />
from London... Dulwich... in south London apparently... They had come originally from<br />
County Tipperary, but they didn‘t seem to have remembered much about it. My<br />
grandfather‘s father was a solicitor. Grandfather was trained in law but he went to Italy to<br />
become an artist... He d<strong>ie</strong>d young... of cholera... not long after mother was born.<br />
And it was the money he left her that she lived on?<br />
Yes... There was property in London... She had the rents. But mother always said<br />
that she looked like her mother... That she was a Richards.<br />
I was just curious, Lotty... So she had these deeds... She must have been the last<br />
of them, then.<br />
Yes... She was very aware of that... What about you?... There must be a lot of<br />
records in Annestown.<br />
I don‘t know... I must ask Uncle Paul... He‘s the last of our Whites down there...<br />
But they have been there since eleven eighty-five... There are references to the Whites in<br />
that part of Waterford in the Rolls... I looked them up... when I was in first year. I gave<br />
Uncle Paul transcriptions of some of them,<br />
What did he say?<br />
He read them two or three times. Then he asked me to repeat the date... I told him<br />
it was shortly after the Norman Conquest... I thought he would be impressed... After all,<br />
they are deep roots... All he said was, that was a long time ago... It was too far back to<br />
make any sense to him.<br />
I can understand that... They are deep roots, Dan.<br />
Eight hundred years... About twenty-five to thirty generations... Actually, Uncle<br />
Paul is right in a way. It doesn‘t make much sense.<br />
Don‘t say that, Dan... It‘s better to know your past... Most people know very little<br />
about their grandparents, never mind eight hundred years ago.<br />
It‘s not specific, Lotty... It‘s not a lineage... I don‘t know much about my greatgrandfather,<br />
except that his name was Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, like me, and that he d<strong>ie</strong>d in nineteen thirty<br />
one... He was a Unionist and an Orangeman... Uncle Paul regards him as something of an<br />
extremist... Perhaps that‘s why I‘ve never been told much about him... The details of the<br />
Richards are more specific... at least back to the eighteenth century... Anyway, the fish<br />
was tasty, Lotty... Would you like some coffee? There‘s some left over from last week.<br />
Yes... But eat some fruit first... Grapes or a pear.<br />
275
Grapes... I‘ll put the coffee on.<br />
Do you feel better?... You were low when you came in.<br />
Oh yes... reading those deeds distracted me, no doubt... And the lovely dinner...<br />
Thank you.<br />
Are you worr<strong>ie</strong>d about anything?<br />
Nothing specific... A vague sense of futility.<br />
Is it the lecture?<br />
I don‘t think so... I‘ve nearly finished this set of notes... That will he a rel<strong>ie</strong>f...<br />
Tony thinks I‘m going through some sort of crisis.<br />
What kind of crisis?<br />
He didn‘t say... Perhaps a crisis of identity... You know, who am I and all that.<br />
Are you afraid?<br />
Of what?... I don‘t feel afraid of anything... It‘s more like a lack of focus... There<br />
are so many things... Brian... Your mother... I don‘t think I‘ve come to terms with that<br />
yet... The jet...<br />
With mother?... But you seemed to have handled that so well, Dan... You‘ve been<br />
a tower of strength for me.<br />
But there are the other things. The jet trail business is getting out of hand. Tony<br />
wants to make a big thing of it. He‘s even lined up a London journalist as well as<br />
someone from here.<br />
You don‘t trust him?<br />
But he seems so honest about it, Lotty... I think I don‘t trust myself... I don‘t really<br />
know what I want to do about it... It‘s one thing being a private speculation. But think of<br />
the repercussions if it became public... Tony wants to do it out of patriotism.<br />
And you?<br />
Me?... I think I want to do it just because I discovered it... I haven‘t thought out<br />
the larger issue. I mean I don‘t think neutrality is a realistic proposition... It was fortuitous<br />
that the country wasn‘t invaded in the last war... But at the same time I don‘t want to be<br />
responsible for upsetting the present balance of things... I mean Ireland is manifestly not<br />
neutral in the larger sense. It‘s part of the Western Bloc... Ideologically, I mean.<br />
Let Tony do it on his own then.<br />
He won‘t. He‘s a civil servant... What‘s more, he has something to do with the<br />
talks that are going on with Britain... about the North.<br />
How do know that?<br />
He let it slip at the funeral... You see, Lotty, Tony is not merely a patriotic citizen.<br />
There‘s a political interest. I can‘t see all the way through his scheming. But he wants to<br />
use it to force someone‘s hand.<br />
Then let it drop, Dan... Stay out of it if you don‘t have an interest.<br />
Yes. That‘s the sensible thing... But each time I see Tony I feel a bit more<br />
enmeshed in his scheme... I can‘t pull out now without appearing to be... well, a coward.<br />
Oh no, Dan, Not pride, ..I didn‘t think you were like that.<br />
No, Lotty. Not my personal pride... I tr<strong>ie</strong>d to discuss this with him but it was<br />
impossible... Both of us were unwilling to put a name on it... But I‘ll tell you. To a lot of<br />
people in this country we are West Brits, who still have a sneaking allegiance to Britain<br />
276
and the crown. Now, if I refuse to go along with Tony, it will seem as though the West<br />
Brit baulks at standing up for the Irish Republic.<br />
But surely your theory supports the British interest more than the Irish one?<br />
On the surface... One might expect that a fear of Russia might push Ireland into<br />
nato... But it ought just as easily arouse anti-English feelings here. You see, Lotty,<br />
because of the fact of who I am, it might look as though I am scare-mongering on behalf<br />
of the English... to force the Irish into a military alliance with nato and so with Britain.<br />
But the evidence, Dan.<br />
Tony‘s evidence, Lotty... Don‘t you see?<br />
Yes... What are you going to do?<br />
I must get him to admit that his notes are false.<br />
How?<br />
I don‘t know yet... Perhaps we will call his bluff... A weekend in Connemara?<br />
Yes. Let‘s...<br />
But I had better check here on Sunday... We‘ll go down to Killiney.<br />
Very well... And what if his evidence is true?<br />
I‘ll have to make it public, Lotty... I won‘t suppress it if it is true. People should<br />
know about it... They should know how things are, even if they refuse to accept it... Come<br />
on, let‘s go inside... I‘ll read some more of these if you like...<br />
There are some biscuits.<br />
That was a good insight, Lotty... Seeing those deeds as the background of a Jane<br />
Austen novel... I like that... Will I read on? It‘s about the conditions of John‘s<br />
inheritance...<br />
Yes... It is like a novel.<br />
Okay... And the said testator by his said will authorised and empowered the said<br />
John when he should be in possession of the said lands of Megstown to charge the same<br />
with the payment of any year‘s sum not exceeding one hundred pounds like currency by<br />
way of jointure for any woman he might marry and in the case of his the said John‘s<br />
leaving no issue male or having such and that all of them should fail then that the said<br />
John should have power to charge and encumber the said lands of Megstown with any<br />
sum of money not exceeding two thousand and five hundred pounds like currency as a<br />
provision for his female children to be divided amongst them in such shares and<br />
proportions and at such time and times as he should by deed or will appoint and for want<br />
of such appointment by the said John then to be equally divided between them and for<br />
default of such issue male of the said John Beard Richards as aforesaid the said testator<br />
devised the said lands charged as aforesaid as in his said will mentioned, and that the said<br />
testator thereby empowered the said John Beard Richards when he should be actually<br />
seized of the said lands to make leases there for any term not exceeding three lives or<br />
thirty one years in possession and not in reversion at the best improved rent that could he<br />
had for the same and without fine, and whereas the said John Beard Richards since the<br />
death of his said father has been and is now in the actual possession and receipts of the<br />
rents of the said lands subject to the said yearly sum of one hundred pounds for his said<br />
mother for her life and to the said sum of one thousand two hundred and fifty pounds so<br />
as aforesaid apportioned by said testator and charged on said lands of Megstown... Now<br />
we come to the girl, Lotty... And whereas the said Benjamin Bradshaw late of Brideswell<br />
277
in the county of Roscommon esquire deceased by his last will and testament in writing<br />
bearing date on or about the eleventh day of July eighteen twenty-three after devising his<br />
freehold estates as therein mentioned gave and bequeathed all his personal property to<br />
Thomas Walker Salter of Killton in the County of Longford since deceased and Robert<br />
Comin of Creggs in the County of Galway upon trust after payment of his funeral<br />
expenses just debts and divers pecuniary legac<strong>ie</strong>s and annuit<strong>ie</strong>s to put out the residue<br />
thereof at interest in the funds or orse... I think that‘s otherwise... and equally to divide<br />
the same amongst the saith testator‘s children by the said Jane his wife at the time of his<br />
death share and share alike with benefit of survivorship and to be payable to such of them<br />
as should be sons at their respective ages of twenty-one years and to such of them as<br />
should be daughters at their respective ages of twenty-one years or days of marriage<br />
which should first happen and of the said will appointed the said Thomas Walker Salter<br />
and Robert Comin executor and guardian of the fortunes and persons of his said children,<br />
and whereas the said testator Benjamin Bradshaw departed this life on or about the tenth<br />
day of March eighteen twenty-five without having altered or revoked his said will leaving<br />
to children by his said wife Jane him surviving that is to say Benjamin Bradshaw the said<br />
Mary Bradshaw Charlotte Bradshaw otherwise Goldaming the widow of John Brians<br />
Goldaming doctor of medicine deceased Henry Bradshaw Rebecca Bradshaw and Jane<br />
Bradshaw all or whom then were and still are infants under the age of twenty-one years,<br />
and whereas the said Thomas Walker Salter having renounced the burden of the<br />
execution of said will probate thereof was granted to the said Robert Comin forth of his<br />
Majesty‘s Court of Prerogative in Ireland who thereupon took upon himself the burden of<br />
the execution of said will, and whereas the said Benjamin, Mary, Charlotte, Henry,<br />
Rebecca and Jane Bradshaw minors by Robert Comin their next fr<strong>ie</strong>nd filed their Bill in<br />
the said Court of Chancery on or about the seventh day of April eighteen twenty-eight the<br />
said Thomas Walker Salter and Robert Comin charging and praying as therein<br />
particularly set forth but which Bill was filed at the special instance and request of the<br />
said Robert Comin for the purpose of discharging himself from the trusts or the will of<br />
the said testator Benjamin Bradshaw deceased, and whereas the said Thomas Walker<br />
Salter and Robert Comin having answered the said Bill and the said cause having been set<br />
down to be heard on pleadings and proofs a decree to an account was pronounced therein<br />
on or about the twelfth day of October eighteen twenty-eight, and whereas in pursuance<br />
of the said decree the said Robert Comin duly accounted before Thomas Ellis esquire the<br />
Master in the said cause for such part of the personal estate of the said testator as came to<br />
the hands of him the said Robert Comin, whereupon the said Master made his report<br />
bearing the ninth day of June eighteen twenty-nine and thereby reported that after giving<br />
the said Robert Comin all just credits and allowances the value of the said testator‘s<br />
personal estate in the hands of the said Robert Comin on the twenty ninth day of January<br />
then last past amounted to seven thousand three hundred and ninety seven pounds<br />
nineteen shillings and three pence late Irish currency being equal to six thousand eight<br />
hundred and twenty eight pounds eighteen shillings and two pence present currency<br />
which consisted of bonds notes and Government Stock balance of cash and value of live<br />
stock and also including the arrears of interest due on the securit<strong>ie</strong>s subject thereto as by<br />
the said report and schedules thereto filed in the proper office reference being thereunto<br />
had may appear, and the said Master also reported that Jane Bradshaw party thereto<br />
278
widow of the said testator Benjamin was a fit and proper person to be appointed guardian<br />
over the said minor children and that Henry Austin of Lecarrow in the County of<br />
Roscommon was a fit and proper person to be appointed receiver to call in the<br />
outstanding personal assets of the said Benjamin Bradshaw deceased which said report<br />
was duly confirmed, and whereas the said Thomas Walker Salter having d<strong>ie</strong>d and the<br />
usual order to proceed with the said cause notwithstanding the said Thomas Walker<br />
Salter‘s death having been obtained the said cause was by order bearing the date the<br />
seventeenth day of March eighteen twenty nine set down to be heard on report and merits<br />
whereupon a decree was had therein on the fourth day of April eighteen twenty nine<br />
whereby it was amongst other things decreed by the Right Honorable the Lord High<br />
Chancellor of Ireland that the said Benjamin Mary Charlotte Henry Rebecca and Jane<br />
Bradshaw were entitled to equal shares of the said personal estate reported by the said<br />
Master to be in the hands of the said Robert Comin and that Henry Austin esquire the<br />
receiver in the said cause should apply one hundred and sixty-eight pounds per annum out<br />
of the net produce and profits of the personal estate of the said testator towards the<br />
maintenance of the said Mary Charlotte Henry Rebecca and Jane the younger children of<br />
the said testator, and that the said receiver should call in the several outstanding securit<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
due to the estate of the said Benjamin Bradshaw the testator and invest the same from<br />
time to time in the Bank of Ireland with the privity of the Accountant General and also<br />
bring into the said Bank of Ireland with the privity of the Accountant General the surplus<br />
interest produce and profits of the said personal estate to the credit of said cause in the<br />
name of the minor... can‘t read the word... generally and whereas under the will of the<br />
said Benjamin Bradshaw deceased Mary Bradshaw wife of Richard Bradshaw son of the<br />
said testator by a former marriage is entitled to an annuity of ten pounds late Irish<br />
currency payable to her for and during the term of her natural life out produce and profits<br />
of the personal estate of the said testator, and whereas by order of the petition of the said<br />
Richard Bradshaw and Mary his wife bearing the date the twenty first day of December<br />
eighteen twenty-eight it was ordered that the said Henry Austen should pay to the said<br />
petitioners the said sum of nine pounds four shillings and seven pence halfpenny being<br />
the equivalent to the sum of ten pounds late currency for one year‘s annuity due to the<br />
said Mary Bradshaw the first day of November last and that the said receiver should<br />
continue from time to time to pay the said petitioners the said annuity half yearly as the<br />
same should become due and payable until further order, and whereas by order bearing<br />
date the twenty fourth day of March eighteen thirty it was ordered by the Right Honorable<br />
the Master of the Rolls that the Account General of the said court should transfer to the<br />
said Robert Comin for the purposes therein mentioned so much of the three and a half per<br />
cent stock the price of the day at the time of such transfer with the... word illegible... of<br />
the said Master would amount to the sum of three hundred and forty pounds twelve<br />
shillings and six pence three farthings present currency, and whereas in pursuance of the<br />
said last mentioned order the aforesaid sum of three hundred and forty pounds twelve<br />
shillings and six pence three farthings was transferred by the Accountant General with<br />
such approbation as aforesaid to the said Robert Comin and by him the said Robert<br />
Comin paid to Richard Lake in the said order named in discharge of a certain demand<br />
upon the assets of the said Benjamin Bradshaw in the said order mentioned... There...<br />
Such are the circumstances of Miss Mary Bradshaw.<br />
279
Is that it?<br />
No... It goes on to examine the propr<strong>ie</strong>ty of John and Mary marrying... Do you<br />
want to hear it?<br />
It‘s not too tiring?<br />
No... It‘s very evocative in its own way... Will you put on that lamp though. There<br />
is another shower coming up... That‘s better... Now... And whereas the said John Beard<br />
Richards having proposed to the said Mary Bradshaw for a marriage to be had between<br />
him and said Mary Bradshaw and also proposed such terms of settlement to be made and<br />
entered into as hereinafter mentioned provided such proposal of marriage should be<br />
accepted of, and whereas the said Jane Bradshaw on the twenty second of June last<br />
petitioned the Right Honorable the Lord High Chancellor of Ireland stating the said<br />
proposal for marriage and terms of settlement, whereupon it was referred to Thomas Ellis<br />
esquire the Master in the said cause to enquire and report whether the said proposed<br />
marriage between the said John Beard Richards and the said minor Mary Bradshaw<br />
should be a fit and proper marriage and that if the said Master should approve thereof the<br />
said John Beard Bradshaw or any party interested should be at liberty to lay proposals<br />
before the said Master for a settlement to be executed on the occasion and that the said<br />
Master should report the same with his opinion thereon to the Court, and whereas the said<br />
Master in pursuance of said order made his report bearing date the twenty seventh day of<br />
August past and thereby found that the said proposed marriage between the Reverend<br />
John Beard Richards and the said minor Mary Bradshaw would be a fit and proper<br />
marriage and that the Reverend John Beard Richards by his solicitor James Tallant<br />
pursuant to his Lordship‘s said order laid proposals before him the said Master for a<br />
settlement to be executed previous to the said marriage and thereby proposed to charge<br />
the said lands of Megstown with an annual sum of one hundred pounds late Irish currency<br />
by way of Jointure for the said Mary Bradshaw in the event of her surviving him and with<br />
two thousand five hundred pounds like currency in case of the said John dying without<br />
issue male of the said intended marriage for the issue female thereof and to have the fortune<br />
of the said Mary Bradshaw amounting to about one thousand one hundred and fifty<br />
pounds circumstanced as before mentioned conveyed to trustees to be appl<strong>ie</strong>d when<br />
called in towards the discharge of the said one thousand two hundred and fifty pounds so<br />
charged on the said lands of Megstown and to obtain assignments for the benefit of the<br />
female issue of the said proposed marriage in case there should be male issue thereof in<br />
which case the said charge of two thousand five hundred pounds would not take effect,<br />
the said John wishing to reserve to himself the power given him under his father‘s will of<br />
dividing the lands amongst his male issue if any subject to such charges and<br />
incumbrances for his other children as he should appoint in default of issue male then the<br />
said trustees to stand interested in the said trust mon<strong>ie</strong>s or charge upon the said should be<br />
secured upon trust to be appl<strong>ie</strong>d and disposed of in such manner as the said John Beard<br />
Richards should by deed or will direct or appoint but inasmuch as in the event of there<br />
being issue female and no issue male the provision of two thousand five hundred pounds<br />
for such issue female might prove a very inadequate provision the said Master was of the<br />
opinion that it would he fit and proper that the charge proposed to be paid off by the<br />
fortune of the said Mary Bradshaw should in such case be added to the provision<br />
proposed for the female children of such marriage in case of no male issue instead the<br />
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same going to the personal representatives of the said John Beard Richards and with such<br />
alteration in the said settlement proposed on the part of the said John Beard Richards said<br />
Master was of opinion that the said proposal was a fit and proper proposal and that it<br />
would be for the benefit of the said Mary Bradshaw that a settlement should be executed<br />
on the occasion of the said marriage in accordance with the said proposal and such<br />
alterations as suggested by the said Master as above mentioned, and whereas by order<br />
bearing date the thirty first day of August eighteen thirty the said report was duly<br />
confirmed and it was thereby ordered that the said Thomas Ellis should approve of a<br />
proper deed of settlement to be executed pursuant to the said report and that upon the<br />
certificate of the said Master of the due execution of the said settlement the said John<br />
Beard Richards and the said Mary Bradshaw should he at liberty to intermarry... There...<br />
Mary‘s dowry is to he kept for her daughters?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good idea... There‘s more?<br />
The actual marriage settlement... Will I read it?<br />
Some of it anyway... You‘re sure it‘s not tiring?<br />
No... It‘s enjoyable... Now this indenture witnesseth that for the considerations<br />
aforesaid and of the said marriage and of the said sum to which the said minor Mary is<br />
now and shall be hereafter become entitled to receive and in pursuance of the said report<br />
and for providing the jointure hereinafter mentioned for the said Mary Bradshaw in case<br />
she shall after the intended marriage had survived the said John Beard Richards and for<br />
providing such provision for the female children of the said Intended marriage in default<br />
of such issue male aforesaid, he the said John Beard Richards in pursuance and in<br />
execution of the said power in him for that purpose vested by the said in part recited will<br />
of the said Philip Richards and of all other powers and authorit<strong>ie</strong>s estates and interests<br />
him thereunto enabling doth by these presents charge and incumber the said lands of<br />
Megstown and Ardnasnage with their said subdenominations and each and every part<br />
thereof with one annuity or annual sum of ninety-two pounds six shillings and two pence<br />
present currency being equal to one hundred pounds late Irish currency as and for and by<br />
way of jointure for the said Mary Bradshaw in case she should survive the said John<br />
Beard Richards to be paid and payable at such times and with such remed<strong>ie</strong>s for the<br />
recovery thereof as hereinafter for that purpose is declared and in like pursuance and<br />
execution of the said power in him for that purpose vested as aforesaid and of all other<br />
powers and authorit<strong>ie</strong>s estates and interests him thereunto enabling he the said John<br />
Beard Richards doth by these presents charge and incumber the same lands and premises<br />
with their subdenominations and parts and every part thereof with the sum of two<br />
thousand three hundred and seven pounds thirteen shillings and ten pence sterling present<br />
currency being equal to two thousand five hundred pounds late Irish currency as a<br />
provision for the female children of the said John Beard Richards in case he the said John<br />
Beard Richards shall have no male issue or having such that all of them shall fail the said<br />
sum of two thousand three hundred and seven pounds thirteen shillings and ten pence in<br />
such case to be divided amongst such female children in manner and at the times and with<br />
such remed<strong>ie</strong>s for the recovery thereof as hereinafter for that purpose is declared and for<br />
the better secured the payment of the said jointure for the said Mary Bradshaw and the<br />
said provision for the female children of the said intended marriage in the events<br />
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aforesaid, it is further witnesseth that the said John Beard Richards for the considerations<br />
aforesaid hath granted and demised and by these presents so far as he lawfully may under<br />
and by virtue of the said in part recited will of the said Philip Richards or otherwise<br />
howsoever doth grant and demise unto the said William Blosse Mortimer and Robert<br />
Comin their executioners administrators and assigns all that and these the town and lands<br />
of Megstown and Ardnasnage with their subdenominations containing about three<br />
hundred and fifty acres plantation measure situate in the Barony of Castlerea and County<br />
of Roscommon with their appendances and appurtenances to hold unto the said William<br />
Blosse Mortimer and Robert Comin their executors administrators and assigns from the<br />
day next before the day of the date of these presents for and during the terms of five<br />
hundred years thence next ensuing and fully to be complete and ended upon the husts and<br />
to and for the several uses interests and purposes hereinafter mentioned expressed and<br />
declared of and concerning the same and subject to the said term of five hundred years<br />
and the trusts thereof and to the said jointure for the Mary Bradshaw and the said portion<br />
for the female children of the said intended marriage in the events aforesaid it is hereby<br />
declared and agreed by and between the part<strong>ie</strong>s hereto and in particular by the said John<br />
Beard Richards in exercise and in pursuance of the powers in him for that purpose vested<br />
by the said in part recited will of the said Philip Richards and of all other powers and<br />
authorit<strong>ie</strong>s estates and interests him thereunto enabling as to the said lands and premises<br />
shall from and after the decease of the said John Beard Richards remain and be to the use<br />
of such male child or children as there shall be issue of the said intended marriage for<br />
such estate and estates and in such shares and proportions and subject to such conditions<br />
provisos and limitations for the benefit of them or any of them and subject to such<br />
changes and incumbrances for his other children as he the said John Beard Richards shall<br />
by any deed to be executed by him or by his last will and testament direct and appoint and<br />
in default of such direction and appointment then to the use of the first son of the said<br />
intended marriage and the heirs male of his body and for default of such issue then to the<br />
use of the second third and every other son of the said intended marriage successively in<br />
remainder as they shall be in priority of birth and the several and respective heirs male of<br />
the body of such sons respectively and it is hereby declared that the said term of five<br />
hundred years is so as aforesaid limited to the said William Blosse Mortimer and Robert<br />
Comin upon trust in the first place to pay and keep down the head rent to which the said<br />
lands of Megstown and Ardnasnage are subject from and immediately after the decease of<br />
the said John Beard Richards in case the said Mary Bradshaw his intended wife shall<br />
happen to survive him to permit and suffer the said Mary Bradshaw and her assigns to<br />
have receive and take out of all and singular the said towns lands and premises the said<br />
annuity one clear yearly rent charge of ninety-two pounds six shillings and two pence<br />
sterling for and during her natural life the same to be paid and payable in each and every<br />
by equal half yearly payments the first payment to be made on the expiration of six<br />
calendar months from the day of the decease of the said John Beard Richards and the<br />
second half yearly payment to be made on the expiration of twelve calendar months from<br />
the day of the decease of the said John Beard Richards and each successive half-yearly<br />
payment to be made on the expiration of each succeeding period of six calendar months<br />
during the life of the said Mary Bradshaw with a proportionate part of the said annual<br />
sum for so much of the period of six calendar months as shall elapse between the day on<br />
282
which the last half-yearly gale of the said annual sum is hereby directed to be made and<br />
the day of the decease of the said Mary Bradshaw such payments to be made clear of all<br />
taxes charges and deductions whatsoever provided that if it shall happen that the said<br />
annuity or yearly rent charge or any part thereof shall be behind or in arrears or unpaid for<br />
the space of fifteen days next after any of the days whereon the sum ought to be paid as<br />
aforesaid that then and so often as it shall happen it shall and may be lawful to and for the<br />
said Mary Bradshaw and her assigns into all and singular the said premises and each and<br />
every or any part thereof to enter and to distrain and the distress and distresses then and<br />
there found to take lend drive carry away and impound and inpound to detain and keep or<br />
otherwise dispose of according to law until she and they be thereby and thereout or<br />
otherwise for all such arrear together with the expenses of taking and disposing of such<br />
distress and distresses fully satisf<strong>ie</strong>d and paid and if it shall happen that the said annuity<br />
or yearly rent charge or any part thereof shall be behind or in arrear for the space of fortyone<br />
days next after any of the days of payment whereon the same ought to be paid as<br />
aforesaid then and so often as it shall so happen it shall and may be lawful to and for the<br />
said Mary Bradshaw and her assigns into all and singular and each and every part of the<br />
said premises or into any part thereof to enter and to collect levy and receive to her and<br />
their own the rents issues and profits thereof until she or they shall he thereby and<br />
thereout or otherwise for all such arrear together with any accruing gale or gales of the<br />
said annuity and the expenses of such entry and collection fully satisf<strong>ie</strong>d and paid which<br />
said annuit<strong>ie</strong>s or yearly rent or charge shall be in l<strong>ie</strong>u and full satisfaction and have of and<br />
for all dower which the said Mary Bradshaw might be otherwise entitled to in or out of all<br />
and singular or any of the lands tenements and hereat of which the said John shall or may<br />
be seized of an estate of inheritance of any time during the said intended coverture and it<br />
is hereby further declared that the said term of five hundred years is so limited to the said<br />
William Blosse Mortimer and Robert Comin as aforesaid upon the further trust subject to<br />
and without prejudice to the said jointure and in the event of the said John Beard<br />
Richards leaving no issues male then the said William Blosse Mortimer and Robert<br />
Comin and the survivor of them his executors administrators or assigns do and shall by<br />
and with and out of the rents issues and profits of the said premises or by sale mortgage<br />
or demise thereof or any part thereof for all and any part of the said term of five hundred<br />
years or by all and any of the ways and means aforesaid raise and levy the said sum of<br />
two thousand three hundred and seven pounds thirteen shillings and ten pence sterling<br />
present currency as a provision for the female children which shall be the issue of the said<br />
intended marriage and which sum of two thousand three hundred and seven pounds<br />
thirteen shillings and ten pence the said John Beard Richards by virtue and in pursuance<br />
and execution of the said power in him for that purpose vested by the said will of the said<br />
Philip Richards and of all other powers and authorit<strong>ie</strong>s him thereunto enabling doth by<br />
these presents limit and appoint to such female children as there shall be issue of the said<br />
intended marriage to be divided amongst them in such shares and proportions and to such<br />
times as the said John Beard Richards shall by deed or by his last will and testament in<br />
writing direct and appoint and in default of such appointment then to be equally divided<br />
between them and in case there shall be but one female child issue of the said intended<br />
marriage then in trust for such one only child to be paid and payable to and become<br />
vested interests in such female children or child at their respective ages of twenty-one<br />
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years or respective days of marriage which ever shall first happen provided always and it<br />
is hereby declared and agreed by and between the part<strong>ie</strong>s hereto that notwithstanding the<br />
said jointure for the said Mary Bradshaw and the said portions for female children so<br />
charged upon the said lands as aforesaid it shall be at all times lawful for the said John<br />
Beard Richards from time to time to make leases of the said lands for such terms and in<br />
such manner as in the said will of the said Philip Richards is for that purpose mentioned<br />
as fully in every respect as if these presents had not been executed, and this indenture<br />
further witnesseth that for the considerations aforesaid and in further performances of the<br />
said agreement and in consideration of the sum of five shillings sterling to the said Mary<br />
Bradshaw in hand paid by the said William Blosse Mortimer and Robert Comin she the<br />
said Mary Bradshaw and the aforesaid Jane Bradshaw her mother and guardian by and<br />
with the... word illegible... consent and approbation of the said John Beard Richards<br />
testif<strong>ie</strong>d by his being a party to and sealing and delivering of these presents and each of<br />
them according to their interests therein have granted bargained sold assigned transferred<br />
and do and each of them according to such their interests therein doth by these presents<br />
grant bargain sell assign transfer and set over unto the said William Blosse Mortimer and<br />
Robert Comin their executors administrators and assigns all the share and proportions to<br />
which the said Mary Bradshaw or the said John Beard Richards in her right is or may or<br />
shall he entitled of in and to all and singular the goods chattels mon<strong>ie</strong>s stocks funds<br />
securit<strong>ie</strong>s for mon<strong>ie</strong>s and personal estate of the said Benjamin Bradshaw deceased and all<br />
the estate right title... Mmm...<br />
What?<br />
Some pages missing... Yes... Too bad... But there couldn‘t be much more.<br />
Yes... They left nothing to chance.<br />
Nothing... There‘s a hard reality to it, isn‘t there?<br />
Yes. But cold.<br />
Perhaps... It‘s what underl<strong>ie</strong>s human life though... No doubt John and Mary liked<br />
one another well enough... All the more for the security of law... Is that what you mean by<br />
it being the real background to a Jane Austen novel?<br />
Yes.<br />
But she didn‘t fool her readers... As though her characters lived on air.<br />
I know... I suppose the real details would have been boring.<br />
I suppose fiction has to be interesting... Do you want to hear more? There‘s<br />
something here about the children of John and Mary.<br />
Is it long?<br />
No. It seems to be an abstract... Looks as though it was made about fifty years<br />
ago. It‘s only a page and a half.<br />
Okay.<br />
It‘s headed genealogical material from ell cee extracts... I don‘t know what ell cee<br />
stands for. Do you?<br />
No. Perhaps from documents someone else had.<br />
It starts... reference marriage of jay bee Richards and Mary Bradshaw issue. Then<br />
in the margin the second of July eighteen fifty seven. Then a list. One. Philip the eldest<br />
son who d<strong>ie</strong>d on date in margin unmarr<strong>ie</strong>d in lifetime of John Beard Richards his father.<br />
Two. David Richards father of vender... he must have sold the estate.<br />
284
Yes. Mother said once that the last of it was sold in the nineteen twent<strong>ie</strong>s. There<br />
was a mortgage.<br />
Anyway, he was born on the twenty fifth of November eighteen forty. Three. John<br />
Beard Richards... He was given his father‘s name... Four. Jane Richards who afterwards<br />
marr<strong>ie</strong>d James F<strong>ie</strong>ld Smith. Five. Charlotte Alice Richards who marr<strong>ie</strong>d Alexander F<strong>ie</strong>ld<br />
Smith... There is both yours and your mother‘s names.<br />
Mmm.<br />
The sisters marr<strong>ie</strong>d brothers, it seems... A date in the margin. September eighteen<br />
sixty three. Mary Richards otherwise Bradshaw d<strong>ie</strong>d on date in margin... That‘s sad.<br />
It‘s as though we knew her.<br />
Yes... Then fifth June eighteen eighty two. Charlotte Alice Smith d<strong>ie</strong>d on this date<br />
without leaving issue of said marriage... But her names were carr<strong>ie</strong>d on...<br />
Yes.<br />
Eight of December eighteen sixty. Jane Richards d<strong>ie</strong>d on this date in lifetime of<br />
her father without having exercised her disposing power of her share by deed or will it<br />
therefore went subject to the payment of interest on it to her husband James F<strong>ie</strong>ld Smith<br />
for life to her father. Then fifth of September eighteen eighty one. Her husband James<br />
F<strong>ie</strong>ld Smith d<strong>ie</strong>d on this date. Fifth of June eighteen eighty two. Misses Charlotte Alice<br />
Smith d<strong>ie</strong>d on this day leaving her husband who is still surviving... Lotty, I think this<br />
refers to some earl<strong>ie</strong>r sale... Yes... The final date is the twent<strong>ie</strong>th of October eighteen<br />
seventy four... The entry is... John Beard Richards son of Reverend John Beard Richards<br />
d<strong>ie</strong>d in testate and unmarr<strong>ie</strong>d on this date. The one thousand two hundred and fifty<br />
pounds under the events that occurred become devisable in following shares. One. Misses<br />
Charlotte aye Smith in her own right. Six hundred and twenty five pounds. Two. Same.<br />
Her one third share of Jane Smith‘s share. Two hundred and eight pounds six and eight<br />
pence. Three. Same. Her half share of John bee Richards. One hundred and four pounds<br />
three and four pence. Four. David Richards one third of Jane Smith‘s share. Two hundred<br />
and eight pounds six and eight pence. Five. Same. Half of John bee Richards. One<br />
hundred and four pounds three and four pence. Total. One thousand two hundred and fifty<br />
pounds... Finally. Alexander F<strong>ie</strong>ld Smith as representative of his wife released the estate<br />
from all claim in this respect... That‘s it.<br />
What is it about?<br />
I‘m not sure... Obviously about dividing up the inheritances of Jane and John. It<br />
looks as though Charlotte Alice didn‘t press her right... Perhaps the others had greater<br />
need.<br />
I don‘t know anything about it... Thanks for reading all of that, Dan. I hope it<br />
wasn‘t too tiring.<br />
No. I enjoyed it... There‘s a letter too.<br />
Oh leave it until another time... I‘ll go up.<br />
I will too… There‘s a curious consolation, isn‘t there?<br />
Consolation?... Yes... It makes death seem less isolated... I feel as though I<br />
actually witnessed all their lives... and deaths.<br />
That‘s it,<br />
Mother is part of that line, Dan. Like Mary Bradshaw... you know... She lived and<br />
then d<strong>ie</strong>d... It makes sense.<br />
285
Good... I‘m glad you discovered those papers, Lotty... We must try to work out a<br />
more complete genealogy. I know they are fairly fragmentary, but we should be able to<br />
p<strong>ie</strong>ce something together.<br />
Will you? I‘d like that... Put it in a Bible... Did your family do that?<br />
I don‘t know... Grandfather‘s Bible was certainly big enough... And old... I<br />
wonder if Uncle Paul has it... You use the bathroom first. I‘ll undress...<br />
Will you look at Brian.<br />
Sure... He‘s on his back.<br />
Facing the world, they say.<br />
And he has his hands out... His palms are quite pink... Little lines... Mmm... Your<br />
skin is like satin, old son.<br />
What?<br />
His skin is like satin... Do you know, Lotty, he is extraordinarily beautiful.<br />
Beautiful?<br />
Yes. You know Blake‘s poem?... Brian radiates a kind of joy.<br />
He is your son.<br />
Not just that, Lotty... I mean in himself. I‘m sure anyone would find him joyous...<br />
Look. how he holds his hands up, palms out.<br />
I‘m glad you like him, Dan.<br />
What?... Of course I do... Why are you so serious?<br />
Some men compete with their sons. Especially with their eldest sons.<br />
Why?... Why compete with a child?... That‘s silly.<br />
For the attention of the woman... The mother.<br />
I hadn‘t thought of that. I don‘t resent the attention you give Brian... And I don‘t<br />
think my father did.<br />
The bathroom is free... Perhaps not in all cases...<br />
What about daughters?<br />
Some times the mother feels excluded.<br />
An obvious symmetry... Did your mother?<br />
No.<br />
You were close to her.<br />
Yes. And to daddy.<br />
Then why did you fear that I would resent Brian?<br />
A lot of men I‘ve known seemed to dislike their fathers. Some of them positively<br />
hated them.<br />
Well, I think I got on very well with my father.<br />
Yes. It was your father you dreamed of... You told me that last night... Not of your<br />
mother.<br />
That‘s true... But I don‘t know what that signif<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
A psychologist would say guilt... You remembered your mother... Consciously, I<br />
mean... But not your father.<br />
But that‘s the trouble, Lotty. I didn‘t, as you say, remember either of them. I was<br />
too shocked at the time... Why should I dream of my father and not of my mother?... Did<br />
you dream of your father after he d<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
No... At least I don‘t think to.<br />
286
And yet you dreamed of your mother... Will I put out the light?<br />
Yes... But there wasn‘t the same shock. I last saw daddy just before he d<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
He called you an angel.<br />
Yes... I suppose there were no unconscious questions... You know, Dan, it is<br />
strange that you never dreamed of your mother... You did love her, didn‘t you?<br />
Yes. I‘ve no doubt about that... Perhaps there was no need to.<br />
Why not?<br />
Perhaps my father represented both of them in the dream.<br />
But why your father and not your mother?<br />
Perhaps it would have been too horrifying to see mother like that.<br />
Yes... Yes. That could be it... I know what you mean...<br />
Don‘t let‘s talk about it, Lotty. You won‘t be able to sleep.<br />
No. That‘s alright. I made myself look at all our photographs of mother... That‘s<br />
why I went through her papers. In case there were any old pictures of her.<br />
Are there?<br />
No... But I did look at all the others... If I dream of her again, I‘ll dream of her as<br />
she is in one of those photographs.<br />
Perhaps you won‘t dream of her again. I only dreamed of father once... Like that, I<br />
mean.<br />
Have you had other dreams of him?<br />
Yes. Usually they are incongruous... A few years ago I dreamed I was talking to<br />
one of my lecturers... I was still an undergraduate in the dream... I don‘t know who he<br />
was... But father was sitting in the corner of the room. He was reading a newspaper and<br />
smiling.<br />
What else did you dream?<br />
I can‘t remember them all... There was a curious one. Uncle Paul was in it too.<br />
They were both much younger. I was with Uncle Paul, coming into this house. We found<br />
father in the kitchen, frying fish. There seemed to be a street outside the kitchen window<br />
and passers-by were looking in at father cooking. He looked ill... he hadn‘t shaved for<br />
several days. I was very worr<strong>ie</strong>d, but he passed it off as an injury he had received to his<br />
leg while fishing... I remember then that I went and had a bath. Uncle Paul was in the<br />
bathroom... Strangely, we could see the passers-by looking in at father, even though the<br />
bathroom doesn‘t face out in the same direction.<br />
It seems very symbolic.<br />
I can‘t remember what was happening at the time... I was doing the research for<br />
the thesis... It didn‘t seem to have any bearing on that.<br />
Your father fishing... And you bathed... Jung would have called it numinous.<br />
Well it didn‘t seem to mean anything at the time.<br />
And you have never dreamed of your mother?... Like that I mean.<br />
No.<br />
I don‘t understand that, Dan... You must have been closer to your father, after all.<br />
No. I wasn‘t.<br />
You‘re sure of that?<br />
Quite sure... Perhaps it would hurt too much.<br />
287
What are the main things you remember about her?... I mean if you were to<br />
answer spontaneously.<br />
Her loudness and her capability.<br />
Loudness?<br />
Those are the words that came to mind... I don‘t mean that she was noisy or<br />
vulgar... It was a quality in her... Something explosive... I always felt sorry for her<br />
because no one could satisfy that part of her... It was very strong and... well...<br />
unrelenting... And at the same time it wasn‘t directed towards anyone. I don‘t think she<br />
had any control over it. She was a very striking woman... I remember that... Tall, full<br />
bod<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
Yes...<br />
It was a kind of power she had no use for.<br />
You say she was also capable.<br />
No. I don‘t mean capable in that sense... She had capability... It was a kind of<br />
distance in her... Not remoteness... She seemed to control things from a hidden<br />
perspective... Actually, Lotty, I always thought it was something left over from her<br />
childhood... It seemed to be the child in her who controlled.<br />
You knew her very well, Dan.<br />
She couldn‘t be taken for granted... She used to intimidate some of my fr<strong>ie</strong>nds...<br />
But men seemed to like her... Not women, though... I think she excited men in an oblique<br />
way... Perhaps it was something infantile... You know how little girls can dominate quite<br />
old boys?<br />
Yes.<br />
Like that... If she had decided to slap one of them, I don‘t think he would have<br />
minded.<br />
She sounds as though she was very dominating.<br />
She wasn‘t... You had only to step back from that perspective... Then she seemed<br />
merely loud... Oh, I suppose she really was trying to cope with something she didn‘t quite<br />
understand... Perhaps being an adult or something... a wife or mother.<br />
You know her so well, Dan... I‘m surprised. I didn‘t know that... What about your<br />
father?... You did say once... recently... that he was boyish.<br />
Boyish?... No. He wanted to be boyish... He had a kind of vigour... Rural... You<br />
know, naive. He was very exact in some ways... His work required that... The<br />
accountancy... But he also had the looseness... a gentle roughness... of a farmer. Perhaps it<br />
was in his blood... They were really distinct... Ah.<br />
What?<br />
I‘ve just remembered something... I met Tony Hackett‘s father once... At his<br />
twenty first... I remarked that he was a real intellectual Catholic... To Tony... We were<br />
fairly sloshed... As though he was in on an all-embracing conspiracy... Just like Tony,<br />
actually.<br />
Do you think Tony is like that?<br />
They always act as though they know more than they are admitting... When it‘s<br />
really less than they think... Perhaps that is why we think they are so dissembling...<br />
Anyway, he happened to meet father a few months later... At my twenty first, of course...<br />
he told me that he was messianic... I thought he had said manic. I was pretty annoyed. But<br />
288
Tony found that very funny. He fell around the place laughing... He finally told me what<br />
he had said. I had already been annoyed, so I couldn‘t get annoyed again... It seemed<br />
incongruous. I had never even seen father read the Bible, though he did attend church.<br />
Yet Tony thought he was messianic... Actually, now that I remember, father was very<br />
wary of Tony... No. Not just because he was ar cee... There were others at the party...<br />
Was he messianic?<br />
I couldn‘t see it... If he was I mean... He was shy of me... We were shy of one<br />
another... But he wasn‘t a ranter, Lotty... How did I come to talk about all this?<br />
Dreams.<br />
Of course...<br />
I‘m very different to your mother.<br />
Yes... Do you think that is significant?<br />
No... It crossed my mind... There‘s no reason why I should be... Was mother?<br />
Yes. Your mother was more open.<br />
With you?<br />
Generally... I‘ve seen her with others... She mixes more easily.<br />
Mmm... The total extrovert.<br />
She was... Are you ready to sleep?<br />
Yes... Kiss me...<br />
Sweetheart... I hope you sleep well tonight.<br />
Until Brian calls... I will... Goodnight, darling... You sleep well too... You need<br />
it... And Dan.<br />
What?<br />
Don‘t let yourself feel futile... There is no reason to feel that.<br />
I know... Goodnight...<br />
FRIDAY<br />
Good morning, Misses MacLane.<br />
Good morning, Mister Butler... Did you have an accident?<br />
My knee. I slipped in a mist yesterday. It‘s nothing serious.<br />
Climbing mountains is dangerous, Mister Butler... My father once helped to bring<br />
a climber down from the mountains... the Derryveagh Mountains in Donegal... He was an<br />
Englishman... I wasn‘t supposed to see. He had been dead for a week... The crows had<br />
been at him... I‘m glad it wasn‘t serious.<br />
I slipped on a sod of turf really. Fell on my back... A man helped me up.<br />
This man had fallen down a cliff... Were there any cliffs on the mountain<br />
yesterday?<br />
Yes... There‘s a corry lake at the summit. There are cliffs all round one side.<br />
You could have fallen there, Mister Butler.<br />
289
Oh no. I kept away from there... I know the mountain very well.<br />
Maybe it was the mercy of God that protected you, Mister Butler... But you<br />
shouldn‘t go up there on your own... I‘m glad you‘re safe... I‘ll bring up the rest of your<br />
breakfast in a few minutes. You must be hungry after all your climbing.<br />
Here you are... Eat all that now... I don‘t suppose you had a decent dinner last<br />
night... And take this... It will protect you.<br />
What is it?... Oh.<br />
Padre Pio... He‘ll protect you in future.<br />
Are you sure? You might want it for yourself, Misses...<br />
No. You take it, Mister Butler. It will keep you safe from harm.<br />
Well thank you, Misses MacLane... And thank you for this... I hope I can eat it<br />
all.<br />
Sure you can...<br />
Dream last night (after climbing Mullagh): I was in what seemed to be a<br />
dark room: I was aware that someone or thing else was also there — moving<br />
around: strange feeling: I was curious, but also vaguely apprehensive — but not<br />
frightened: I waited for ages; there was no sound but I knew something else was<br />
there: then I finally realised I could ask for a light: I asked for the light — I<br />
thought I would plead for the light, but instead I simply ordered it in a calm way,<br />
sure I would be obeyed: a light began to glow somewhere to one side: yellow,<br />
very soft: it was a bird — like the raven yesterday – very big and black, but with a<br />
large face and large eyes: I started for some reason, then awoke. I felt very empty:<br />
I thought of going back to London at the weekend: I was dismayed to discover<br />
that I felt as though I had never left Epsom — this holiday seems to have been a<br />
waste of time and money. There is nothing here.<br />
Why did I write that about the sunlight yesterday? I didn‘t simply look<br />
away, as though it was too bright or too virtuous. I kept looking away from the<br />
scene itself because I was trying to see all of it: I remember now that the light<br />
seemed to be composed of t<strong>ie</strong>r upon t<strong>ie</strong>r of light, stretching up the sky — yet each<br />
time I followed these tears up I discovered I was looking at the cloud above. The<br />
light was there in front of me, filling the western sky and shining on the water —<br />
yet it was as though I was searching for it. Why was that?<br />
Yes... Oh hello... Sorcha.<br />
290
Mammy told me to tell you that there was a phone call for you yesterday... Mister<br />
Hackett?... Here. She wrote it down...<br />
Yes... Tony Hackett... Thanks. And...<br />
And mammy wants to know if you want any clothes cleaned... The washing<br />
machine... She said you fell into a bog...<br />
Not really... No. Tell her nothing was dirt<strong>ie</strong>d. They‘re an old pair of trousers... But<br />
thank her all the same... Thanks...<br />
But this freedom of meaning from signification can be seen in a more<br />
general phenomenon. Where does the meaning which establishes a set of<br />
equivalent propositions reside? In the example above, it seemed as though the<br />
statement ‗The dog runs‘ was a paradigmatic statement which established or<br />
expressed the meaning expressed in statements equivalent to it. But is this so?<br />
Why should ‗The dog runs‘ be regarded as the paradigm of the meaning it<br />
expresses? Definitionally, it does not convey the meaning in a more true or<br />
complete way, for then the equivalent statements could not be described as<br />
equivalences. Admittedly, it could be presented as a paradigm-reference point<br />
because it conveys the meaning of the set most simply and directly. But simplicity<br />
and directness are not necessary qualit<strong>ie</strong>s of meaning, for less simple and less<br />
direct expressions of the meaning are nonetheless as fully meaningful as the<br />
paradigmatic statement; again, definitionally so. In fact, the particular expression<br />
of the meaning is treated as a paradigm for practical reasons which have nothing<br />
to do with meaning as such. Simplicity and directness are criteria for selecting the<br />
paradigm because these qualit<strong>ie</strong>s are prized by the culture in which the selection is<br />
made. Another culture might select a less simple and direct expression of the<br />
meaning because it prizes other qualit<strong>ie</strong>s as criteria, for instance, sonority or<br />
vividness; a greater exactitude based on practical interests, as in the case where<br />
the dog is being hunted or being used to hunt, where a more precise definition of<br />
the breed and pace of the dog would be required.<br />
However, once it is seen that no particular statement of a set of equivalent<br />
statements is necessarily the paradigmatic expression of the meaning which<br />
determines the set, then the relation between meaning and signification becomes<br />
problematical. It is obvious that in any of the equivalent statements the meaning is<br />
conveyed in signification. To explicate the meaning by means of equivalent<br />
statements is to convey the meaning in signification. And even to answer the<br />
question ‗What is the common meaning of the set of equivalent statements?‘ is<br />
either to choose of the equivalent statements or to generate a new — but<br />
equivalent — statement. That is, any attempt to answer that question involves<br />
signification.<br />
Yet — that such a question is possible impl<strong>ie</strong>s that some notion of a<br />
meaning common to all statements of the set is possible. And while this common<br />
meaning can only be expressed in signification, by means of equivalent<br />
291
statements, it would seem that at some level of abstraction from particular<br />
instances of signification, the notion of a common meaning can be grasped. If<br />
only in a vague way — which can only be expressed (signif<strong>ie</strong>d) in the form of a<br />
general question which avoids instancing (signifying) the meaning about which<br />
the question is asked — meaning appears to float free of signification. Thus the<br />
situation here is similar to that noticed in the case of the translation of statements.<br />
This means that the situation which is apparent when the translation of a statement<br />
possesses equivalence only at the level of meaning, so that meaning appears to<br />
float free of signification, also arises whenever two or more equivalent statements<br />
are compared, the range of equivalence notwithstanding. Thus a comparison of<br />
two equivalent statements expressed in similar signs, syntax and language — with<br />
even a change in only one key word, say ‗dog‘ or ‗runs‘ — immediately raises the<br />
question of common meaning.<br />
This is not to say that it is only in attempts to compare equivalent<br />
statements that the question of common meaning arises. The problem is<br />
approached in this way because it is a relatively unambiguous way of indicating<br />
an important aspect of meaning, that it is not totally t<strong>ie</strong>d to signification. It is clear<br />
that language can be used without such a question arising, if only because we<br />
received our language complete with sets of equivalent statements, rules for their<br />
use and comparison, and the techniques for generating new equivalent statements.<br />
An examination of any of these rules and techniques could also encounter this<br />
problem of meaning, though it would not necessarily do so.<br />
It is clear that the question ‗What is the common meaning of a set of<br />
equivalent statements?‘ cannot be answered. Any answer (signification) would<br />
reduce the generality impl<strong>ie</strong>d in the question to the particular. That is, the<br />
common meanings sought can only be answered by means of one of the<br />
equivalent statements about which the question is asked. This means, obviously,<br />
that meaning free of signification cannot be conveyed, for then it would be<br />
signif<strong>ie</strong>d. But it is also clear that no one of the statements in a set of equivalent<br />
statements is intrinsically the paradigm of the other statements of the set: the<br />
statements are equivalent, no more, no less. The common ‗linear‘ model of the<br />
paradox called ‗Frege‘s paradox‘ is thus not the true picture of the nature of<br />
meaning. Instead of an ‗eternal flight of meaning‘ leading endlessly (and futily)<br />
from one instance of signification to another, it is rather the case of a two-axes<br />
structure, of a circle of signif<strong>ie</strong>d meaning — a set of equivalent statements — as a<br />
horizontal axis, and a vertical axis of ‗free‘ meaning, which though it can be<br />
grasped vaguely in the form of a general question, cannot be itself signif<strong>ie</strong>d.<br />
Strictly speaking, it is not a paradox, but an indication of the boundary of<br />
language as a practical instrument of communication.<br />
Of course, the capacity to ask such questions about the meaning common<br />
to sets of equivalent statements is not in itself the condition for grasping that<br />
meaning can be free of signification. Such questions are only formulations of that<br />
grasping. In ordinary language usage, the existence of free meaning does not<br />
appear for what it is, for language-use is sign-use. It is only when language-use is<br />
examined that this curious feature of meaning becomes apparent. From this<br />
292
perspective, the condition for grasping the freedom of meaning is seen to l<strong>ie</strong> in the<br />
equivalent statements themselves, in the very fact that statements can be<br />
equivalent. Thus it is the equivalence-condition of these statements which points<br />
towards free meaning.<br />
This equivalence-condition is a dialectical condition. Practically, the<br />
meaning of a statement is complete — as complete as is appropriate to an<br />
instrument of communication. The meaning is the signification and requires no<br />
reference beyond itself. But no statement is a unique statement of meaning, for<br />
when we receive our language we receive sets of equivalent statements, not<br />
paradigmatic or definitive statements. Thus, though any statement is completely<br />
meaningful in the sense just described, there is at the same time the awareness of<br />
equivalent statements. (When a child asks ‗What is A?‘, we answer by giving him<br />
equivalent statements. This is what the child is seeking, though of course it is not<br />
necessary for him to know that.) The dialectical nature of the equivalencecondition<br />
of statements l<strong>ie</strong>s here. A statement is meaningful in itself; but at the<br />
same time its meaning is explicated — we are made aware of its meaning — by<br />
reference to equivalent statements. Conversely, the meaning common to<br />
equivalent statements can only be instanced by means of one of the equivalent<br />
statements. Thus a meaningful statement is simultaneously complete (for practical<br />
purposes) and incomplete. To utter a meaningful statement is to convey meaning:<br />
this is the practical intent of the statement. But the existence of equivalent<br />
statements betrays the incompleteness of that statement: it is not a unique<br />
statement of meaning.<br />
This equivalence-condition of all statements is the condition for grasping<br />
free meaning. In the light of the foregoing it can now be seen that the question<br />
‗What is the meaning of this statement?‘ or ‗What is A?‘ is ultimately, like the<br />
general question about common meaning, a question about free meaning, for the<br />
condition for meaning underlying individual statements is the same as that<br />
underlying sets of equivalent statements. It might seem then that the equivalencecondition<br />
of a statement is the free meaning that floats outside the signification of<br />
the statement. But the equivalence-condition is part of the actual meaning of the<br />
statement or set of statements, not something outside it. The equivalencecondition<br />
could not include the free-meaning, for the meaning of the statement or<br />
set of statements is not equivalent to the free meaning. Equivalence, in other<br />
words, appears at the level of signification. But what can be said is that from the<br />
perspective of the free meaning, the equivalence-condition appears as an identitycondition.<br />
That is, from the perspective of free meaning, equivalent statements<br />
convey an identical meaning. Moreover, an individual statement conveys identity<br />
— it is unique. It follows then that from the perspective of free meaning all<br />
statements are unique.<br />
Of course, this can only be inferred by means of logic: it is not possible<br />
within ordinary language usage to attain the perspective of free meaning, if only<br />
because ordinary language functions in terms of equivalence, not of identity. In<br />
ordinary language, there are always equivalent statements. Nevertheless,<br />
individual statements are meaningful, and it is this meaningfulness which from<br />
293
the perspective of free meaning constitutes the uniqueness of the statement.<br />
However, it seems absurd to say that all statements are unique: yet there is a<br />
perspective from which it can be said. How can such an absurdity be resolved?<br />
Hello, mother.<br />
Richard... Come in... Did you miss that shower? I got in just before you.<br />
I sheltered.<br />
I had my umbrella. But the rain blew in on my feet. Did you get wet?<br />
No.<br />
I‘ll make some tea. Have you had lunch yet?<br />
No... I‘ll make the tea if you like. You change.<br />
It‘s more like autumn today... Jim told me you were up there the other night.<br />
Yes. For dinner.<br />
What do you think of the children?<br />
Lively... Aiden never stays easy.<br />
They‘re a handful... Jim and Anne never get a moment‘s peace with them.<br />
I suppose it‘s the age they are at.<br />
Aiden is always on the go... I don‘t think he gets enough rest... They‘re all like<br />
that today. They are given no time to themselves. Television and pop music.<br />
But Aiden is only four, mother.<br />
I know. But television has him wound up all the time... Last Saturday morning<br />
they were here... Jim brought me some potatoes and a full cylinder of gas... Aiden started<br />
to tell me something... I thought it was about the play school... He got choked up and<br />
confused... Jim told me afterwards it was something he had seen on television... Jim<br />
didn‘t seem worr<strong>ie</strong>d about him.<br />
Was he confused?... Actually confused.<br />
That‘s how it seemed... It was probably because I couldn‘t make out what he was<br />
talking about.<br />
No doubt Jim watches these programmes with him. So he would know what he<br />
was talking about... You‘ll have to watch them too. Jim will tell you which ones to<br />
watch... Here you are... Do you want me to make lunch?<br />
Thanks... No. I‘ll do it now... I never watch television, Richard. I‘m not going to<br />
start now... Why are you limping? Did you hurt yourself?<br />
I slipped yesterday. It‘s not serious. My knee is stiff.<br />
Were you climbing mountains?<br />
Yes.<br />
You should he more careful. You could fall into a hole up there and not be found<br />
for a month... You remember that fr<strong>ie</strong>nd of yours years ago? The one who was missing in<br />
Wicklow for five months that winter...<br />
Yes... Conor.<br />
That‘s right. You said he was an exper<strong>ie</strong>nced climber, didn‘t you?<br />
Yes. He got caught in a mist on Lugnaquilla...<br />
294
That‘s what I mean, There was a lot of cloud yesterday... Was there mist on the<br />
mountains?<br />
Yes, but not very dense... Mother, don‘t fret about it. I slipped on a sod of turf and<br />
fell on my back. That‘s all. I didn‘t wander over a cliff or anything like that... I have more<br />
sense,<br />
You were always taking risks. Look at the way you live... Sit down now and take<br />
the weight off that leg. You should rest it.<br />
Mother. Stop fussing. I can look after myself. I‘ve been doing it long enough now.<br />
You call that looking after yourself? Living hand to mouth in London? Why don‘t<br />
you get proper work and live with some self-respect.<br />
Mother!<br />
No. You listen to me, Richard... You weren‘t brought up to live like that... You<br />
live in a dream, as you always have. When anything becomes too much for you, you just<br />
walk away from it. You never face things. I mean the ordinary things everyone else does.<br />
Mother, stop it, please. You‘re annoyed because you got wet in that shower...<br />
Don‘t take it out on me.<br />
I‘m annoyed with you, Richard. I hate to see you throwing your life away like this.<br />
Who cares about this writing of yours? You have no fr<strong>ie</strong>nds because no one is interested<br />
in what you do... Oh I know you have fr<strong>ie</strong>nds from time to time, but they don‘t stay long.<br />
They get fed up with your obscurity... Would you like a lamb chop? I‘ll grill it with a<br />
tomato.<br />
Yes... But don‘t go on like that, You are taking your annoyance out on me.<br />
But you can‘t deny what I‘m saying, can you?<br />
I see it differently, mother.<br />
But you are throwing your life away.<br />
In what way? What should I do instead? Be like Jim?<br />
You don‘t have to be like him exactly... It‘s just that when I think of you, I feel so<br />
hopeless... Jim has his problems, but at least his life is not hopeless... Like yours.<br />
Why do you think my life is hopeless?<br />
You don‘t seem to have anything to show for it, Richard.<br />
You mean I don‘t make enough money? That I am not successful?<br />
No. Not that... It‘s not the money, Richard, You know I never cared about money.<br />
There‘s a kind of despair in you, Richard. Each time you come home it is worse.<br />
What kind of despair?<br />
You seem more and more distant... I don‘t mean you should be over the moon all<br />
the time. You just don‘t seem to be interested in anything... I suppose it‘s because you<br />
spend so much time on your own away from everybody... London is a big city. It‘s easy to<br />
get lost there... Richard, why don‘t you come back and live here in Dublin?... No. Listen.<br />
You could live here... To start with anyway... Then you can have the house after I‘m<br />
gone... Jim agrees... You‘d feel better here. You‘d be among your own... Here you are. Do<br />
you want more tea yet?<br />
Please... Aren‘t you having anything yourself?<br />
I‘m not hungry. I‘ll have a tomato... Would you do that, Richard?<br />
Mother, I‘ve made a life for myself over there. And whether you can understand it<br />
or not, I want to live as I am living.<br />
295
You live like that out of spite, Richard... Why? what made you do that?<br />
It‘s not spite. I don‘t want to live any other way.<br />
Why not?<br />
It‘s not a question of what I do, mother, but of how I feel... I don‘t want what Jim<br />
is doing... I won‘t work like that because it would sicken me.<br />
But you have to work, Richard. If you were marr<strong>ie</strong>d and had children you would<br />
have to work to keep them...<br />
I‘m not marr<strong>ie</strong>d...<br />
Yes, But...<br />
Look, mother, I‘ll tell you... I live the best life I can in this world. It‘s not the<br />
corruption or the exploitation... there‘s always been that... I won‘t let myself be corrupted<br />
or exploited... I won‘t let myself be turned into a thing, something that can be used as a<br />
means to an end... My life seems hopeless to you because the world we live in is<br />
hopeless...<br />
But it‘s your life that is hopeless, Richard.<br />
No. That is how you see it. It seems hopeless to you... It seems hopeless because<br />
you project hopelessness on to it. If you had called it empty I would have agreed, because<br />
I have empt<strong>ie</strong>d it of as much distraction as I can... But you call that emptiness hopeless<br />
because that is what you see behind this world now... Isn‘t that right? A while ago you<br />
were complaining about the restlessness of young people. Why do you think they are<br />
restless? Because they have nothing to hold on to... Not even themselves, as you said.<br />
So you can‘t find anything worthwhile to do. Is that what you mean?<br />
Except what I do.<br />
But how can that be worthwhile, Richard? There‘s nothing to show for it... And<br />
you get more... empty as you call it.<br />
I don‘t mean that writing is worthwhile in that sense. It would be better to make<br />
something useful, if that was possible. But it‘s not... Writing is the best I can do in the<br />
circumstances. It doesn‘t automatically turn into a thing.<br />
How do you mean? You write books, don‘t you?<br />
That‘s secondary. If I were to burn my novels once I had written them it would<br />
make no difference. I would have had the benefit of them,<br />
Why do you try to publish them then?<br />
For money, of course, mother. I do have to make a living... They are things then to<br />
be bought and sold... But they might be of benefit to those who buy them... some of them<br />
anyway.<br />
But writing drains you, Richard. I hate that about it.<br />
No. It burns away the superfluous. That‘s not the same thing... If I seem empty<br />
and distant, that‘s because I cannot appear otherwise in the kind of world we live in.<br />
I don‘t like to hear you say these things, Richard.<br />
Why not?<br />
Because you sound so... I‘m your mother.<br />
I don‘t mean to be. I don‘t usually talk about it to anyone. I‘m talking about it to<br />
you because you are my mother. Because you are worr<strong>ie</strong>d... I‘ll go on now, mother, I want<br />
to go into town.<br />
When are you going back?<br />
296
Tomorrow morning... Ill ring you next week.<br />
I‘m sorry I was annoyed, Richard... The rain...<br />
Oh, what you said is true enough, mother. Don‘t feel bad about it.<br />
Will you think about moving back to Dublin?<br />
Are you lonely?<br />
I‘m not asking you for my sake... Though it would make me happy... It‘s for you.<br />
You‘re too isolated over there.<br />
I might be more isolated here... I‘ve lost touch with most of my old fr<strong>ie</strong>nds. They<br />
have their own lives to live now... Take care of yourself now, mother.<br />
You will think about it?<br />
Yes, But don‘t bank on it... Goodbye...<br />
Take care of yourself, Richard... Try to mix with people more.<br />
I do, mother... You just don‘t want to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that... Goodbye. I‘ll ring you.<br />
Goodbye... Have a nice journey back...<br />
There is an obvious sense in which all statements can he said to be unique. Any<br />
utterance is unique, both as an event in space and time, and as a linguistic formulation, as<br />
that way of expressing oneself rather than any other. Uniqueness appears here in terms of<br />
human intention and an actual world reference. But it has been shown above that neither<br />
human intention nor the actual world can account for language. For while an utterance<br />
can be regarded as unique in the sense just outlined, it nevertheless is an instance of<br />
language-use. Though as language the utterance appears as this particular statement and<br />
not that one, nevertheless once uttered its meaningfulness appears only within the<br />
dialectical nature of meaning, that it at once inheres in the signification of this particular<br />
statement and in the circle of equivalent statements. That is, this particular statement is<br />
possible only because other equivalent statements are already known. It is obvious that<br />
the circle of equivalent statements cannot arise from a single intention or from a single<br />
event or state in the actual world.<br />
It might on the other hand be said that all statements are unique because they are<br />
in a sense, being linguistic, outside time and space, that each statement has a quality of<br />
eternality. The meaning and signification of any statement is necessarily fixed, and it is<br />
this fixed-ness which makes it eternal. Thus all statements exist as a multiplicity of<br />
eternalit<strong>ie</strong>s. However, in ordinary language-use statements appear within a circle of<br />
equivalent statements. That is, they possess an equivalence-condition not an identitycondition.<br />
To stress the uniqueness of statements in terms of language is to place identity<br />
before equivalence, which is to forget that identity is perceptible only because<br />
equivalence is a fundamental aspect of language.<br />
It must also be remembered that this perception of the uniqueness of all<br />
statements is based on an abstraction from an abstraction. What is present in language is<br />
equivalence. Examined in a certain way equivalence points to a vague perception of free<br />
meaning, which can be signif<strong>ie</strong>d only by means of general questions that do not instance<br />
the free meaning itself — questions that on one hand cannot be answered and on the other<br />
297
lead to the generation of equivalence-statements as answers. In turn, examination of the<br />
character of free meaning shows that what from the perspective of ordinary language is<br />
equivalence is from the perspective of free meaning an identity-condition. Given that the<br />
perception of free meaning from the perspective of language is vague, signif<strong>ie</strong>d emptily<br />
only in general questions, it is plausible, by symmetry, that from the perspective of free<br />
meaning, ordinary language would appear to be equally vague. Not only that, but one<br />
would have an incorrect understanding of ordinary language. Every statement in ordinary<br />
language would appear to be unique, unrelated to any other statement and with no<br />
reference either to human intention or to the actual world. Thus no knowledge of<br />
language, human intention or the actual world would be possible! Every statement would<br />
be simply an isolated assertion of pure self-referring meaning. The statement ‗<br />
Yes?... Come in,<br />
Doctor White?<br />
Yes?<br />
I‘m sorry to disturb you. I won‘t take up too much of your time... Thank you.<br />
Please sit down,<br />
Thank you... My name is Bodkin... John Bodkin... I‘m a physicist.<br />
Yes?<br />
Doctor White... Look, Doctor, you are a political sc<strong>ie</strong>ntist, are you not?<br />
I would...<br />
Now, I have no doubt that the concept of order underl<strong>ie</strong>s the whole of your<br />
thinking... Doctor White, do you ever ask the question... Do I witness order in the world<br />
or do I impose order on the world? Have you ever asked yourself that question?... I<br />
thought not... Do you know, Doctor White, the hardest task for us is to discover the<br />
questions worth asking. Many men spend their lives discovering that the questions they<br />
ask are not worth asking... If you think about that you will find very quickly that it is<br />
true... What questions, then, are worth asking?... No. I will tell you. I am a physicist.<br />
Physicists have the task of locating the order of nature... Now, some physicists assume<br />
this order exists. They work within that supposition. The order in their laborator<strong>ie</strong>s lends<br />
credence to that supposition. The order in their instruments also lends credence to that<br />
supposition. And their results? Naturally, they also lend credence to that supposition...<br />
But, Doctor White, some of us ask the question... What is order? What is it that we are<br />
presupposing?... Well, let me tell you, Doctor... Do you know that disorder is more likely<br />
than order? Do you know that it is eas<strong>ie</strong>r to produce disorder than order? Look at the<br />
great leaders of history, Doctor White, Julius Caesar, Napoleon, Adolf Hitler, Stalin...<br />
Genghis Khan... They all rose to prominence by increasing disorder... Do you doubt<br />
that?... Look at the world we live in, Doctor White. Look at the increasing disorder... Do<br />
you know why that is happening?... No? Well, I will tell you. The history of man is<br />
determined by man‘s increasing understanding of the nature of disorder... Man now<br />
knows that in principle that disorder is more likely to produce disorder than order. All<br />
progress is based upon that understanding. Disorder is the lack of limit... Another way of<br />
298
saying that is, disorder is limitless, Do you see that? The only quality of disorder is<br />
disorder. Or as someone said of money, the only quality of disorder is quantity, that is, the<br />
increase in disorder... The second fact about disorder that man has learned in this century<br />
is this... Disorder is more stable than order... because disorder is more likely to produce<br />
disorder than order... So they arrive at a new definition of order... Once order meant the<br />
orderly arrangement of parts within a whole. A place for everything and everything in its<br />
place, as they used to say. But now order is defined as a stabilised state of disorder... But,<br />
Doctor White, what does that mean?... What is stabilised disorder? I will tell you. It is the<br />
abandonment by man of the concern for the whole... How is this evidenced? At present<br />
man abandons man, Doctor White. He abandons that which reflects... reminds him of...<br />
his own wholeness, which is his ethical being. He abandons his responsibility for the<br />
world. He abandons the wholeness of his physical being and its containment within space.<br />
The world is not his concern. Instead he disorders it. He tears it apart, turning one part<br />
into refuse and the other into artefacts that reflect man‘s disorder... because they in turn<br />
become refuse. The order of the world becomes the disorder of man‘s rubbish, of what he<br />
has used and then discarded. The world was never intended for such destruction. The<br />
world is a cycle, Doctor White. What man takes out should in principle be restored to the<br />
world... But man‘s ultimate act of abandonment, Doctor White, is his abandonment of<br />
God. Do you see that, Doctor White? God is the whole, the limit, the being which ordered<br />
the parts of creation. It is in his abandonment of God that man signalled his abandonment<br />
of order, of limits. How could man abandon God, Doctor White? I will tell you. While<br />
men were confined to small territor<strong>ie</strong>s and communit<strong>ie</strong>s, the limits were clear and they<br />
had to he observed. In observing the limits man acknowledged God in their lives with<br />
natural p<strong>ie</strong>ty. But when men broke these limits he exper<strong>ie</strong>nced for the first time the<br />
temptation of disorder. That is why men of all generations are fascinated with Alexander<br />
the Great. He introduced a level of disorder unimaginable at the time. Not even the great<br />
Aristotle could grasp what Alexander was doing... But how did man react? It is revealing,<br />
Doctor White... Upon his first attempt at creating world disorder, man tr<strong>ie</strong>d to maintain<br />
order by turning Alexander into a god! You see the tension, don‘t you, Doctor White?<br />
Disorder in actual fact, but still a desire for order,... And the same thing happens with the<br />
Roman Empire. The Romans on one hand were the first to create a significantly<br />
irreversible disorder. At the same time they deif<strong>ie</strong>d their emperors and raised human law<br />
to the status of a religion... The process, as you can see, Doctor White, is one of<br />
increasing abstraction. The actual limits of order are overthrown. In their place purely<br />
intellectual limits are proposed... Then for a thousand years emperors and legalism were<br />
used to stabilise disorder. One man was exalted as the whole man while everyone else<br />
was thrown into subjection. Nature was denigrated as evil and spurned. And God? God<br />
became the principle of legality... He did, Doctor White. The Roman church defines God<br />
purely in terms of the laws by means of which it rules man. In worshipping God, man no<br />
longer observed the natural limits. Instead, like cunning lawyers they exploited and<br />
circumvented the laws which determined their relationship with God... But what<br />
happened at the end of that thousand years, Doctor White? I‘ll tell you... Two things<br />
happened. The majority of men conspired to break the intellectual limits placed upon<br />
them. Once they succeeded in doing this, they set about increasing disorder. Why did men<br />
suddenly do this? Previously men had bel<strong>ie</strong>ved that they had reached the maximum<br />
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disorder. Emperors ruled in place of God. Law regulated in place of ethics. Where the<br />
fruits of the earth had been harvested for use, they now came to be subject to contract.<br />
Where men had exchanged, they now stole. Men stole from men, they stole from women,<br />
and they stole from children. What did they steal, Doctor White? They stole the natures of<br />
other human beings, and were preyed upon in turn... How did men inaugurate the new<br />
disorder, Doctor White? Force, sir... Yes, men had always used force. But then it was the<br />
force of men against men. Now it becomes the force of nature against nature itself... Do<br />
you see that, Doctor White? Sc<strong>ie</strong>nce discovered the natural forces and men used these<br />
forces against nature... The results are all around us now. Men have brought disorder into<br />
the heart of nature. And as man‘s understanding of nature grows so does his disorder.<br />
Everywhere there is nature, disorder spreads. Man has disordered his own nature, Doctor<br />
White. Once, the Imperial ideal was an intellectual limit expressing the limit of man‘s<br />
powers. Now there is no ideal man, no perfect man. All are disordered, without limit.<br />
Everything to do with man is now trans<strong>ie</strong>nt. Man is a vast network of forces. Whatever<br />
man touches within that network becomes disordered. His soul, his heart, his brain, and<br />
now his genes... And, Doctor White, if man disorders himself in this way, what can he be<br />
expected to do to the rest of nature? Disorder, disorder, and further disorder. Everything<br />
is explored, abstracted, named and disordered in man‘s own self-image. Nature is torn<br />
apart, sir. Not only intellectually, but in fact. Probes, instruments, machines, artificial<br />
needs, all these things act to disorder the unity of nature. Man transforms nature into his<br />
own disordered image, extending disorder into the furthermost recesses of nature... And<br />
what happens, Doctor White? I will tell you. Where once man explored the order of<br />
nature, he now projects his own disorder on to nature. He begins to find disorder in nature<br />
itself... This is the future, Doctor White. And those who know of this fact grow alarmed.<br />
Soon all sense of order will be lost... Albert Einstein was the last great physicist of order,<br />
sir. It was he who made the last stand in the name of order... It is significant how he<br />
phrased it. He said, God does not play dice. At the end of order, men instinctively evoked<br />
the supreme principle of order, God... Why did he do this? Why did he invoke the God he<br />
has spurned for so long?... Is it not plain? It is because they recognised the secret name of<br />
disorder. Such recognition has become unavoidable because man at last has come to<br />
understand the deepest meaning of disorder... I will tell you that deepest meaning in one<br />
word. The word is immanence... You are surprised, Doctor White... No. Wait... Consider<br />
this... Order is composed of two moments. There is that which is ordered and there is that<br />
which orders. That is why order always suggests divinity, for order must come from<br />
outside... Very well?... You see, if order were immanent, Doctor White, then disorder<br />
would be impossible... But disorder is not only possible, it is evident all around us.<br />
Disorder is the unordered. It has only one moment, the state or fact of being disordered.<br />
Hence disorder is immanent. It is a pervasive inhering state, self-referring and, by reason<br />
of its randomness, self-maintaining. Moreover, Doctor White, its only potential is to<br />
extend itself... Consider an ordered whole of one million parts. A slight deviation in only<br />
one of these parts establishes at once a tendency to disorder which in time will spread<br />
throughout the whole... But you might say, there are self-correcting systems, homoeostats.<br />
A living being or an organ... But consider, Doctor White, what a homoeostat is. It is not<br />
an ordered whole in itself. Rather it is a state of stabilised disorder. At any moment the<br />
homoeostat is in a state of disorder, tending on one hand to correct, by reaction, the<br />
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disorder in it, but tending on the other hand to produce further disorder... No, Doctor<br />
White, the homoeostat is not an ordered state. It is a system of reaction, maintaining for a<br />
very short length of time and within an extremely limited space what could be called a<br />
state of serial disorder... However, you understand now why immanence is the deepest<br />
meaning of disorder?... Good, Very well... Well, then, what is the secret name of<br />
disorder? Of course you know... Everyone knows the name... But what does my<br />
description of disorder remind you of? It is a state of immanence, without limits, selfreferring<br />
and self-perpetuating... Consider the state of being without limits, Doctor White,<br />
Of course it immediately suggests a state of confusion, a random pile of discrete<br />
elements, But is that all?... Consider it in human... or moral terms, What does it mean to<br />
say that a man is without limits? Lacking in control? Incapable of having purpose?... If I<br />
were to say that modern man... The animal of sc<strong>ie</strong>nce... is without limits and therefore<br />
lacking in control and without purpose, would you agree?... No. Of course you would<br />
not... Man is not lacking in control or purpose... That is evident... But, Doctor White, if I<br />
were to ask you to describe the nature of man‘s self-control, or of the nature of his<br />
purpose, would you be able to answer?... Would you?... How does man control himself?<br />
What is his purpose?... No... I have given thought to this, Doctor White, Let me tell you<br />
what my conclusion is... Man does not know how he controls himself. Nor does he know<br />
what his purpose... end... is... I see you are not surprised by my answer... Yes. You were<br />
surprised by my question... Doctor White, you assumed you knew the answer to that<br />
question... Do you see?... Ask yourself, what else does man assume about himself?...<br />
Some assume they are good... What man, Doctor White, would say he was not good?...<br />
Again, Doctor White, what man doubts the value of what he does?... Yes, None... But I<br />
ask you, are men good? Are they?... You are not certain. You cannot say, Yes, men are<br />
good... Very well... What is the value of man‘s actions? Do they have intrinsic worth?...<br />
What permanence does man wish to establish?... You have no ready answer, I see... No...<br />
What then does all this suggest about man?... Look, Doctor White. Man controls. Man<br />
expresses purpose. Man strives for ends. And man‘s actions point to a certain value...<br />
What are the natures of these?... Man controls, but he does not control himself. Man<br />
expresses purpose, but where is the evidence of purpose? Man strives for ends, but when<br />
are these ends ach<strong>ie</strong>ved? Man acts, but what is the value of this action?... No, I will tell<br />
you... By default, Doctor White, they all point to one thing... Man himself... But notice,<br />
Doctor White, I say point to by default... That is the limitlessness of man... Everything<br />
about man reflects back upon man... But man is dark, Doctor White. Nothing can be seen<br />
of man in the mirror of his actions and intentions... Yet his actions and intentions point to<br />
nothing other than man... Man cannot see himself, Doctor White, in the welter of his<br />
endless activity... It is as though the finger man points out towards the world in reality<br />
points at the back of man... Thus man‘s immanence, limitlessness, self-reference and selfperpetuation...<br />
Now, Doctor White, what is the name of that man?... Who strives emptily?<br />
Who is consumed with a pride of no value? Who strives for an end which is the defeat of<br />
all ends?... Who else, Doctor White, but the Devil himself... Yes, Doctor White... Satan...<br />
Lucifer... You are surprised... But why? Is it not evident?... What is disorder but Hell?...<br />
What is it which fills space and yet has no character? What is it which persists without<br />
value?... Hell, Doctor White... Yes. Man creates Hell... Now, Doctor White, does man<br />
create Hell for himself?... Obviously not... It is by default that he creates Hell... You see,<br />
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Doctor White, in seeking himself in his own image, man seeks in the dark... But in<br />
seeking himself in this way, man leaves open a way for the Devil... Within creation, order<br />
must be a bulwark against disorder... It is that which calls up the divinity against the<br />
Satanic potential... Now, Doctor White... This bulwark... .I ask you this, Doctor White...<br />
Can all order be extinguished?... I say it cannot... And why? Because the Devil cannot<br />
prevail against God Almighty... Yes. You say that is a mere conviction. An article of<br />
faith... Yes. But consider, Doctor White... I say it to you. I say the Devil cannot prevail<br />
against God... It is possible for me to say that... It is not faith alone... Consider what the<br />
final extinction of order means... That which is ordered becomes disordered. But what<br />
becomes disordered? Order? But remember, there are two moments in order, that which<br />
is ordered and that which orders... Only one moment is affected by disorder... That which<br />
is ordered... For it can be returned to disorder... But that which orders... can that be<br />
disordered? No. Of course not... It is not merely invincible, that is fairy tale. No. It is<br />
beyond the reach of disorder... It is simply that... God is beyond the reach of the Devil...<br />
But... has that which was ordered been disordered entirely?... Yes. That is it, Doctor<br />
White... There is the conviction that order has not been entirely dispersed... But surely,<br />
one might say, why should this conviction be true and those concerning man‘s purposes<br />
and actions not be false?... Ah, Doctor White, that is where order differs from disorder,<br />
Order is specific and objective... It is of necessity outside man, for man as a living being<br />
is in a state of serial disorder... But I have already said that man, when he points outside<br />
himself, unknowingly points at his own back... How then can man be aware of the order<br />
outside himself?... It is the anc<strong>ie</strong>nt truth, Doctor White... It is only by entering that<br />
order... By submission, Doctor White... By submission to order... But how can man know<br />
that he has entered order? He cannot... Of course he cannot know. All that man can do,<br />
Doctor White, is to submit. He must abandon his intentions and ends. He must seek<br />
where ends and permanence are possible... Man must admit to his own disorder and allow<br />
himself to be ordered... Now, Doctor White... I won‘t detain you much longer... How do<br />
we seek order?... If you remember I said that at the end of the millennium of the law two<br />
things happened ... I have told you about the spread of disorder. Now I will tell you about<br />
the defence of order... Defence, Doctor White... What does that word defence suggest to<br />
you?... A citadel, of course... Consider the citadel. A lonely outpost of order in a<br />
disordered land... It is the last refuge, sir... How anc<strong>ie</strong>nt an image that is... Among all<br />
civilised people it is the symbol of order... Now, Doctor White, while the majority of men<br />
were discovering new secrets of disorder, a small number of men turned away and sought<br />
to submit themselves to order... How could they do this? Because they possessed<br />
knowledge of the nature of order... Of course, this knowledge had come from without...<br />
No, no, Doctor White, I won‘t delay you much longer... Please. You will understand...<br />
Thank you... Knowledge of order was given to man. It was not abstract knowledge,<br />
Doctor White... In the lives of the great Hebrew leaders one can see the growth of this<br />
knowledge... Significantly, Doctor White, in the beginning order was revealed as that<br />
which saved man from the waters of disorder. The ark rode those waters and preserved<br />
the orders of living things... Later, order resided in the mountains... God spoke to Moses<br />
on his mountain and revealed the fundamental nature of order, in the phrase, I am that<br />
which I am... This is not mere self-reference, Doctor White, as no doubt you can<br />
appreciate. It is man who says only, I am... But it is God who says, I am that which I am.<br />
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Only God can name himself, Doctor White... Later again David called order a rock. Order<br />
has been brought closer to man. David said, The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and<br />
my deliverer... Order is revealed to man as man‘s salvation. The ground is laid, Doctor<br />
White, for the coming struggle, the rock is not merely the place of God, of order... It is<br />
now the fortress which pious men are invited to enter... And when David was instructed<br />
to erect an altar on the threshing floor of Oman the Jebusite, God showed man how he<br />
should take a hand in the establishment of order among men... But it was left to Solomon,<br />
Doctor White, to erect the great Temple. To Solomon was revealed the basic principle of<br />
this new partnership of God and man. Unless the Lord builds the house, Solomon wrote,<br />
those who build it labour in vain. Unless man builds in submission to order, the work will<br />
be without value... And as you know, Doctor White, Solomon built the Mystical Temple,<br />
the New Jerusalem... It is the revealed archetype of the citadel of order... Sixty cubits long<br />
and twenty cubits wide... The Holy Place, twenty cubits by twenty cubits... Within he<br />
placed the cherubim and the altar... But, Doctor White, it is significant that what the Bible<br />
calls a sea was placed there also... You see, the waters of disorder are ordered within a<br />
gigantic bowl thirty cubits in circumference and shaped like a lily... But man is dark,<br />
Doctor White. Even Solomon who built this paradigm of order went astray... But he left<br />
a model for the day when it would be needed... At the end of the millennium of the law,<br />
Doctor White, came the time when Solomon‘s vision was needed... But now the means of<br />
establishing order were different. No longer were the men of God called upon to set up a<br />
place apart... To set up a holy place away from the soc<strong>ie</strong>ty of men... Now, in that crucial<br />
age when wicked men gained control of the forces of disorder, when they began to<br />
actively do the Devil‘s work, the pious were directed to establish order within the soc<strong>ie</strong>ty<br />
of men... You know what happened at the city of Münster in fifteen thirty-four, Doctor<br />
White?... Good, You know our traditions... Rothmann said, You are to know and<br />
recognise the work God had done among us so that everyone might arise to the New<br />
Jerusalem, the city of the Saints... The city of the Saints, Doctor White. In Münster, the<br />
Saints established the order of God in what had been an ordinary human city. This was to<br />
be the new way, Doctor... Order was to be established among men... Rothmann called<br />
upon the elect to come to the Holy Jerusalem and Sion and the true Temple of Solomon.<br />
They came from all over northern Europe... Seven thousand two hundred saints, Doctor<br />
White... Men and women, nobles, bourgeois and peasants... True, it was merely a<br />
beginning and they succumbed to the armed force of the Roman bishop. But Rothmann<br />
set out God‘s vision for our time, Doctor White. He wrote, There is a time for the cross<br />
and the Babylonia captivity, when the ungodly are successful, and there is a time for<br />
redemption when the ungodly must pay dearly for their misdeeds... You see, Doctor<br />
White, the time has come for the rule of order, for redemption... You do understand, don‘t<br />
you, Doctor White?<br />
Mister Bodkin...<br />
Doctor, Doctor White...<br />
Doctor, then... Doctor Bodkin... I don‘t know why you have chosen to tell me all<br />
this...<br />
Doctor White, surely you do understand... The two great free nations are united<br />
now... Yes, twice in this century have they defeated the forces of disorder... But now,<br />
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Doctor White, the nature of the struggle is clear. The godly withstand the ungodly... The<br />
Satanic, Doctor White... Surely you understand this... We bel<strong>ie</strong>ve you do.<br />
I‘m afraid I don‘t, Doctor Bodkin... The context is...<br />
You have been chosen, Doctor White... Do you deny that?... The ways of the Lord<br />
are strange... It is in your power, Doctor White, to reveal the machinations of the forces of<br />
disorder... This has been granted to you... You will allow the people of this island to<br />
choose... Show them the scheme of the ungodly... The Satanic force, Doctor White.<br />
You mean this jet trail business?... Are you serious?<br />
You know, Doctor White. It is for your consc<strong>ie</strong>nce to decide.<br />
Who do you represent, Doctor Bodkin? You seem to speak on behalf of some<br />
group.<br />
Who do you think, Doctor White?<br />
Some messianic group? Here in Dublin?<br />
The struggle is world wide now, Doctor White... At last the moment of final<br />
reckoning comes... You must choose to act... You must choose order, Doctor White...<br />
How could a man in your position choose otherwise?<br />
But this is so extreme... There are more rational considerations... There is no need<br />
for this apocalyptic rhetoric.<br />
It is the only way of understanding the course of history, Doctor White...<br />
Otherwise thought is contaminated by the forces of disorder... You must submit to<br />
revelation... The thought of man is dark, Doctor... You must submit... Will you take this,<br />
Doctor?... It is my own little contribution to the struggle... You see, Doctor White. We<br />
each work in his appointed sphere... This is my work... You have your work now... I pray<br />
that you do it... Thank you for the courtesy of hearing me out, Doctor White... I will pray<br />
for you.<br />
Goodbye... Doctor Bodkin.<br />
The dog runs‘ would appear as such an assertion, unique and with no<br />
reference of any kind.<br />
But would this be the case? While it can be posited that, by symmetry, the<br />
f<strong>ie</strong>ld of ordinary language signification would be perceived as vague from the<br />
realm of free meaning, as the latter is perceived from the perspective of the<br />
former, the comparative characteristics of meaning are not symmetrical, but<br />
complementary. Thus, though the level of signification would be perceived in a<br />
vague manner, it does not follow that the characteristic of meaning at the level of<br />
free meaning, as identity, would be projected on to the level of signification.<br />
There is no tendency to do the reverse, to project equivalence on to free meaning,<br />
because it is clear that free meaning cannot be equivalence. From the perspective<br />
of free meaning, then, the f<strong>ie</strong>ld of signification would appear instead as sets of<br />
equivalent statements instancing, by means of different signs, identical meanings.<br />
It would appear as a multitude of circles of equivalent meaning, generated by freemeaning<br />
identity, as circles on a pond are created by raindrops.<br />
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There is no absurdity. Statements conveying equivalent meaning cannot<br />
possess identity. They cannot be uniquely meaningful. The speculations above<br />
notwithstanding, all that can be said with certainty is that an awareness of the<br />
existence of equivalent meaning can, under a var<strong>ie</strong>ty of circumstances, practical<br />
and theoretical, provoke the question, ‗What is the meaning common to this set of<br />
equivalent statements?‘ Ordinarily, the answer would be a statement, designated<br />
ultimately by conventions of practice and theory, which epitomised, described or<br />
defined this common meaning. But further enquiry shows that it is impossible to<br />
answer this question, for to do so is to generate another equivalent statement.<br />
Beyond this, one can only say that, logically, the common meaning would be<br />
identical in all the statements of the set. One can, that is, grasp the identitycondition<br />
of the common or free meaning, but one could never indicate this<br />
identity.<br />
This means that one could not formulate a unique statement, even though<br />
one could abstractly grasp the uniqueness that l<strong>ie</strong>s behind language. One cannot<br />
tell all that one knows.<br />
Ordinary language then is a collection of incomplete, and incompleteable,<br />
sets of equivalent statements. The use of these equivalent statements is governed<br />
by rules, syntactical and semantic, and by the practical concerns of language users.<br />
The only constant in language is meaning. Syntactical and semantic rules vary and<br />
change, and the practical ends which language can serve also vary and change.<br />
But the constant in language is not this or that meaning. While a set of equivalent<br />
statements could be endlessly expanded, thus conveying endlessly the meaning<br />
common to that set, a whole set could become redundant in practical terms —<br />
though never in terms of syntax or semantics — and the meaning common to that<br />
set could disappear. As well as this, changes in semantics could change the<br />
common meaning of a set, or could split or even splinter the set, so that where<br />
there had been one set there would be two or more sets, each with a different<br />
common meaning.<br />
The question that arises now, of course, is ‗What is meaning?‘ The answer<br />
seems to be: ‗Meaning is what language, subject to rules of syntax and semantics,<br />
conveys‘. But it is obvious that the question is of the form, ‗What is the meaning<br />
of A?‘ (To think that the question ‗What is A?‘ is different from the question<br />
‗What is the meaning of A?‘ is not to notice that the answer to the first question<br />
will always be an equivalent statement of A, which, perhaps more obviously, is<br />
always the answer to the second question.) The question then is ‗What is the<br />
meaning of meaning?‘ As argued above, except by the generation of equivalent<br />
statements, it is impossible to answer this question. But there is one exceptional<br />
feature to this question. In the case of all other questions concerning the meaning<br />
of statements, the meaning common to the respective sets of equivalent statements<br />
can be grasped vaguely as something independent of the statements. In the case of<br />
the above statement this seems to be impossible, for the question appears to he<br />
unique. This uniqueness can be indicated in several ways. In the first place, the<br />
question is a ‗constant‘ or eternal question: so long as there is language the<br />
question can be asked, which is not necessarily true of any other set of equivalent<br />
305
statements. Secondly, the question is tautological, such that the question could not<br />
be asked unless the answer was already known, for prior to asking ‗What is the<br />
meaning2 of meaning1?‘, we would have to ask ‗What is the meaning3 of<br />
meaning2?‘, and so on infinitely. Thirdly, the question is not a question about<br />
generality, but about a particularity, precisely because the question is a tautology.<br />
The general question, ‗What is the meaning of the set of equivalent statement,<br />
"meaning‖, and its equivalents?‘, assumes already that the equivalent-term<br />
‗meaning‘ is the meaning of the set, To avoid this assumption, the question should<br />
be, ‗What is the set (―meaning‖, etc) of the set (―meaning‖ etc)?<br />
What this reformulation shows is that the question ‗What is the meaning<br />
of meaning?‘ remains perforce at the level of equivalence. Now, the formula of<br />
the question about the meaning of any set, ‗What is the meaning of (set)A?‘ can<br />
be reformulated as ‗What is the identity of set (A)?‘ This reformulation is strictly<br />
speaking incorrect, because identity is a logical abstraction from meaning, and<br />
only meaning appears in language, as equivalent-meaning. But while bearing its<br />
elliptical character in mind, the reformulation can be used for the sake of<br />
argument. The question, ‗What is the identity of set (dog, etc)?‘, can be asked, for<br />
it does refer to something, to the common or free meaning of the set, which can be<br />
grasped vaguely, though it cannot be signif<strong>ie</strong>d. But the question, ‗What is the<br />
identity of set (meaning, etc)?‘ does not seem to have a reference, for the question<br />
provokes one to grasp exemplars of what identity is, such as the identity or free<br />
meaning of set (dog, etc) or of any other set. It does not lead one to grasp the<br />
common meaning of the set (meaning, etc).<br />
Thus questions about meaning at the level of equivalence are purely<br />
reflexive, while at the level of identity, such questions lead to exemplification.<br />
Now, to exemplify is to provide instances. Answers to questions of meaning lead<br />
to instances of meaning, that is, to equivalent statements. Thus, at the level of<br />
identity, the question of the meaning of meaning lead inescapably to equivalents,<br />
all of which belong to the set of insights into the identity-condition of statements,<br />
There is a h<strong>ie</strong>rarchy here. Questions about the meaning common to sets of<br />
equivalent statements lead one to grasp the free meanings or identit<strong>ie</strong>s of these<br />
sets. But the question about the meaning common to the set of equivalent<br />
statements (meaning, etc) lead to examples or instances of free meaning or<br />
identity. One is led to equivalent-meaning, though this time to the equivalentmeaning<br />
of the set of identit<strong>ie</strong>s of sets of signification. Thus, while the question<br />
‗What is the meaning of meaning? does not lead one to grasp the free meaning or<br />
identity respective to the set in question (meaning, etc), as other uses of the<br />
formula ‗What is the meaning of A?‘ do, but restricts one to the level of<br />
equivalence, this level of equivalence is supra-linguistic — the equivalence here is<br />
not that which pertains necessarily to signification, but is instead an equivalence<br />
among the identit<strong>ie</strong>s which float free of linguistic equivalence. Thus:<br />
306
meaning<br />
of meaning<br />
identit<strong>ie</strong>s:<br />
common meanings<br />
signif<strong>ie</strong>d sets of<br />
equivalent statements<br />
Even so, this diagram notwithstanding, the identity of meaning cannot be grasped.<br />
One falls either to the level of the equivalence of identit<strong>ie</strong>s or to a tautology. One<br />
is tempted to say that, therefore, meaning has no identity in itself, that meaning<br />
exists only in other statements at the level of equivalence and identity. But there<br />
seems to be no problem in discussing the identit<strong>ie</strong>s or common meanings of<br />
equivalent statements, even though these identit<strong>ie</strong>s cannot be signif<strong>ie</strong>d and can<br />
only appear in the form of general questions. On an analogy with this, one can say<br />
that while the question of the meaning of meaning cannot even be grasped, as the<br />
other questions of meaning can, nonetheless the possibility of the question<br />
indicates that there is something to which it refers, even if we cannot grasp it. All<br />
that can be said at this stage is that the question ‗What is the meaning of<br />
meaning?‘ is a uniquely unique question; if it is empty or a tautology, it is also an<br />
eternal question and one about a particularity.<br />
It seems, therefore, that while there cannot be a unique statement, there is<br />
at least one unique question.<br />
Ref Dream: mother mentioned Conor McNally today: two women today<br />
warned me about the dangers of climbing mountains and gave me examples of<br />
men who had been killed on mountains. The landlady here told me about an<br />
Englishman in Donegal being eaten by crows. Mother doesn‘t know about Conor<br />
(I never told her), but the exposed parts his body had been picked clean during the<br />
months his body lay on Lug.<br />
Point: I realised as mother talked about Conor that Mrs MacLane had<br />
triggered my memory of the dream by talking about her Englishman: the word<br />
crow had done it. But I also realised that it had not been a dream, at least not a<br />
dream I had last night, What I remember now is this: The place was grey, not<br />
dark: I was moving through this grey place, though I was aware at the same time<br />
that I couldn‘t move. As well as this, when I looked up, I thought I was looking<br />
down, and when I looked down I thought I was looking up. I seem to remember<br />
everything that ever happened to me, but at the same time I concentrated on only<br />
one word, ‗serious‘: everything else seemed to be utterly trivial. Obviously, this is<br />
a memory of what I exper<strong>ie</strong>nced when I fell on my back on Mullagh: I was on my<br />
back, upside down because of the slope; the cloud was grey and moving; ‗serious‘<br />
307
ecause I was very afraid. The bird was suggested by the raven I saw as I came off<br />
the mountain.<br />
But the trouble is that I seemed to have had some kind of vision of a large<br />
bird while I was lying on the mountain. When mother spoke about Conor, I immediately<br />
connected Mrs MacLane‘s words about the crows with what I had been<br />
told about Conor by Mike Henshaw, who had helped bring his body down. Then<br />
the memory of the black bird came back, I had been horrif<strong>ie</strong>d by what happened to<br />
Conor – I gave up serious climbing afterwards. But I wasn‘t afraid of the black<br />
bird, I was curious: the apprehension arose because I was dependent upon the bird<br />
coming to me, because I couldn‘t move. I‘m not sure about the light: perhaps I<br />
wanted light because of my helplessness — if the bird wouldn‘t come to me at<br />
least I would see it. There was light (perhaps a break in the clouds) and at the<br />
same time I saw the bird. But my memory is of commanding light to appear: there<br />
was light because I wanted it.<br />
The face of the bird was not bird-like, I still have the memory, not clear,<br />
but the face is big in the sense of being round; and the eyes are big because they<br />
are round. There is a nose and a mouth. The face wasn‘t black, but it wasn‘t white<br />
or pale either. It doesn‘t remind me of any face I know. It has no expression. Yes.<br />
The eyes were owl-like. And the face could appear round in the way that the<br />
feathers on an owl‘s head create the impression of roundness, of a round face. But<br />
the bird wasn‘t an owl: the body was horizontal, like that of a crow.<br />
The bird spoke — after what seemed like an eternity of gazing: I can<br />
remember what it said because of the image which came to mind as it spoke: the<br />
bird asked ‗Why do you want fire?‘, and I saw the night lights of Dublin against<br />
the sky to the north. I was facing north, though upside down. The image reminded<br />
me of nights in the mountains years ago when I could see the lights of the city on<br />
the sky. We joked about not being able to get away from the place. That night<br />
walk in 1963 across the whole range, we had the city light behind us; even on the<br />
highest and most desolate parts of the mountains, in the middle of the night, that<br />
glow was there, reminding us of our ordinary lives. The bird asked the question<br />
many times, repeating it in a mechanical way in a peculiarly hoarse voice, as<br />
though it was its characteristic cry.<br />
What<br />
Yes?<br />
Mister Butler, there‘s a telephone call for you.<br />
Oh... Thanks,<br />
It‘s in the hall.<br />
Yes, I saw... Hello.<br />
Dick?<br />
Tony.<br />
Got you at last... How are tricks? Did you climb?<br />
Yes. Yesterday.<br />
How did it go?<br />
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Okay. Some mist. But no rain,<br />
Ground soft?<br />
Yes. Your boots came in handy.<br />
Good, Good... Look, are you free tomorrow night? There‘s a party you might find<br />
interesting.<br />
I‘m planning to go back to London in the morning.<br />
Ah... Do you have to?... Dan White... You remember him?<br />
Yes, The other night in Donnybrook.<br />
That‘s it... He asked me to particularly invite you.<br />
No. I don‘t have to go tomorrow. Ang<strong>ie</strong> expects me when she sees me...<br />
Good... Will you come?<br />
Sure, Why not?<br />
That‘s grand...<br />
I have your gear. The jacket...<br />
Listen, do you fancy a pint later on? I can come over about half nine. I can pick up<br />
the gear then.<br />
Yes. Good idea.<br />
Right. See you then, Dick... Sorry I have to dash. I should be there round half<br />
nine... Bye.<br />
Okay... See you.<br />
Oh Mister Butler!... Mammy wants to know if you will come down and have<br />
dinner with us?<br />
That‘s very kind of her... But I‘m just going out now... Will you thank her all the<br />
same?<br />
Okay...<br />
Mister Butler... It will be no trouble... One extra...<br />
Misses MacLane... It‘s very kind of you... Actually, I‘m going out... Now...<br />
Are you sure?... It will be no trouble... You‘re welcome.<br />
No... I had planned to...<br />
Oh, if you have an appointment... How is your leg? Is it any better?<br />
Yes. It‘s beginning to clear up.<br />
That‘s good. I‘m glad to hear that. Thank God it wasn‘t more serious... Have a<br />
nice evening out then... Come on, Sorcha... Let Mister Butler get ready... Enjoy yourself,<br />
Mister Butler.<br />
Thanks.<br />
Lotty... Lotty. Have you been crying?<br />
You said it would come back, Dan,<br />
Oh, poor girl... Here... I shouldn‘t leave you alone, Lotty.<br />
No. I‘m alright now... No... Thanks. It is a comfort. Keep your arms around me...<br />
It came on suddenly... As you said it would... Like a fever.<br />
Are you sure?... That you are alright?<br />
309
Yes... I was about to start dinner... I‘m doing a roast... We‘ll have some wine with<br />
it... Thanks, darling... Did you get much done?<br />
Yes... I‘m almost at the end now... Of this part anyway.<br />
Good... You do work hard, Dan... That‘s a good thing.<br />
It‘s the only way to do it... Will I make some tea? I find I skip coffee in the<br />
afternoons.<br />
Yes... Imagine, Dan, it‘s less than a week since the accident... I feel it happened<br />
ages and ages ago.<br />
I know what you mean.<br />
I don‘t think it‘s just because it is an unhappy event, Unhappy events can remain<br />
close, uncomfortably close.<br />
Perhaps because it was sudden... It makes it unreal.<br />
Do you think so?... It could be that. Is that how it was for you?<br />
In a way. But I felt it was above me... Up in the air... I always felt that they d<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
up on a height... Actually it was at sea-level... Outside Carlow...<br />
How strange...<br />
I think it was because I felt like a child again. You know, vulnerable.<br />
Yes, That makes sense... I don‘t feel like a child, I think that is because of Brian...<br />
That would be it... You are a mother now.<br />
But sometimes I wish I could shrink back... Let someone else take the burden... Is<br />
that how you felt?<br />
No, I didn‘t try to avoid it... I didn‘t think about it like that. I felt very young and<br />
vulnerable... Mind you, Uncle Paul did take care of all the details.<br />
I didn‘t mean that... You did that for me... No. I meant this pain.<br />
Oh I felt the pain, Lotty... Here...<br />
Thanks...<br />
But as a child would... Without fully comprehending what had happened... I was<br />
absolutely miserable in a dumb way.<br />
You must have felt very helpless.<br />
Yes... Helpless and useless... It hasn‘t done that to you. I mean, you‘ve gone on<br />
doing things here and looking after Brian.<br />
I made myself... You threw yourself into your research.<br />
That was a few months afterwards... For weeks I was empty and helpless. It‘s as<br />
well Uncle Paul took me down to Annestown. I don‘t think I would have been able to<br />
look after myself.<br />
Then I‘m not as lonely as you were then... You are here. That helps, Dan.<br />
I‘m glad... But perhaps I shouldn‘t go into College for a while.<br />
No. You should carry on as usual... I am... I just cr<strong>ie</strong>d... The pain is mine... But I<br />
didn‘t feel isolated. You are not to worry about that. Just because you are not here doesn‘t<br />
mean I don‘t feel you here... Your presence... The house is full of you, you know.<br />
It should be, I grew up here... anyway, I‘m glad you can cope, Lotty... Just give it<br />
time.<br />
And pat<strong>ie</strong>nce, no doubt.<br />
Why do you say that?... In that tone, I mean... It‘s going to be there for a while<br />
yet... I know it sounds pretty ponderous, but you should take it seriously.<br />
310
Seriously?... How earnest, Dan.<br />
Otherwise it will take you by surprise each time, Lotty.<br />
It will come anyway. There isn‘t anything I can do to prevent it, is there?<br />
But if you take that attitude, Lotty, everything will become unreal... Not just the<br />
pain... You‘ll distance yourself from everything.<br />
I know it is mother, but it is such a nuisance... It has spoiled everything. Look at<br />
the effect it is having on our lives.<br />
Even so, Lotty, we have to take account of it. It‘s part of your life now.<br />
Take it seriously? We can‘t let it become part of our lives, Dan... Oh why did it<br />
have to happen like that. We were so happy, Dan.<br />
You will have to, Lotty. From now on, all the things that you are will include the<br />
fact that your mother is dead. Do you want to forget that?<br />
No! You don‘t understand, Dan... They are not the same... I know mother is<br />
gone... I do... But this pain, Dan... That‘s different.<br />
Yes, I know that... It‘s the emotion I‘m talking about... That part of you is still<br />
learning. You have to attend to it. Just saying it‘s true doesn‘t help there.<br />
But I thought that is what you wanted me to do.<br />
What?<br />
Accept that mother is gone... I have accepted that.<br />
What do you mean by gone?<br />
Gone?... I mean mother is no longer here.<br />
Where is she?<br />
I don‘t know... I...<br />
She‘s dead, Lotty... How do you accept that?<br />
You couldn‘t!... How do you expect me to?<br />
I don‘t... But you think some other formula will do instead... Saying she is gone,<br />
as you put it, merely puts the fact of her death at a distance... It doesn‘t help you.<br />
Then what am I to do, Dan?<br />
Take the event seriously... Took at it. Help your body learn to accept it.<br />
But that is so wearisome!<br />
I don ‘ t know any other way, Lotty... I‘m only trying to help. If I could rel<strong>ie</strong>ve you,<br />
Lotty, I would... I would, sweetheart. I hate to see you suffer so...<br />
Everything has been so changed, Dan... No. They are only tears... Oh Dan, I feel<br />
so... so...<br />
Let it, Lotty... It has to work through.<br />
Will it ever end?<br />
Yes... I mean that. It will...<br />
I feel so... There must be something I can do, Dan... You have your work.<br />
There‘s Brian.<br />
I might affect him... He must feel the weight of it. I‘m in his company all the time.<br />
Yet he seems cheerful, doesn‘t he?<br />
He is... But Brian is going to grow up... Your work is always there.<br />
You should do research, then, Lotty. I told you before... Wait... Remember the<br />
idea you had... Last Saturday on the beach.<br />
What idea?<br />
311
About culture... The stimulus to exper<strong>ie</strong>nce the world comes from familyhood...<br />
From the child.<br />
I don‘t remember very clearly, I‘m afraid.<br />
Well, hold on... Yes... I suggested it could be approached by studying the lives of<br />
the philosophers... See if their thoughts changed after their first child was born.<br />
Are you serious?<br />
Why not?... It‘s original, if nothing else... Most postgraduate research is nothing<br />
more than nit-picking... Do it in the philosophy department... David Coulson... Do you<br />
want me to approach him?<br />
Let me think about it.<br />
Sure.<br />
Dan... Wait...<br />
What?<br />
Is that why you study so hard?... Because of your parents?<br />
Not now... It has value in itself.<br />
Did it help you come to terms with it?<br />
Yes.<br />
But you didn‘t stop studying.<br />
I like doing it, Lotty.<br />
No... I asked you before it crossed my mind that in order to come to terms with<br />
mother‘s... death... I will try to prove that knowledge comes about because of children.<br />
And?<br />
Wouldn‘t it be more true to argue that knowledge is a defence against our fear of<br />
death?<br />
Ah... I had suggested you research it before we heard about your mother...<br />
And she was already dead, though we didn‘t know it.<br />
I mean I thought it was worth studying in itself.<br />
I know... But now... I mean I am to do research now because mother is dead... To<br />
take my mind off it... That‘s why I thought that perhaps learning was a defence against<br />
death. It keeps our mind occup<strong>ie</strong>d so we can‘t think about it.<br />
Isn‘t that rather morbid, Lotty? It‘s hardly the most important reason.<br />
What is, then?<br />
Because of the nature of our lives, Lotty... Call it prudence. We study and learn in<br />
order to secure our lives.<br />
How do you mean?... For a livelihood?<br />
No... We try to understand the world around us in order to use it more effectively<br />
to supply our needs... And ourselves too.<br />
For happiness?<br />
That‘s the ideal.<br />
You are sceptical?<br />
At least for our survival.<br />
How do you help?<br />
At the moment?... I teach political philosophy... I try to show how certain men<br />
thought we should organise our soc<strong>ie</strong>t<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
But this paper you are preparing?<br />
312
I want to show whore I think the foundations of our culture l<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
Where?<br />
In language.<br />
Not in life?<br />
Not directly. Life is a word, Lotty. You use it as you use other words.<br />
But what about our actual living?<br />
What about it?... You are still using words.<br />
Words?... But my life, Dan... And yours. And Brian‘s.<br />
I know what you mean, Lotty... But don‘t you see? You use words. I know you<br />
mean something by them... Your feelings. Your exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of existing... But when you<br />
come to tell me what your life is, you use words... Look, if you said that your sense of life<br />
was, say, your sense of being alive, I would know what your sense of life was only if I<br />
understood the words you use to describe it.<br />
But you have your own exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, Dan.<br />
Yes... But another person might have a totally different way of describing it... He<br />
might talk about his spirit or his soul... You might not even understand him... So you<br />
wouldn‘t know what his sense of life was.<br />
But I would know he was alive.<br />
Only by your own standards, Lotty... And he might not understand your<br />
definition... He might think it absurdly subjective... He might walk around and talk, and<br />
yet he might bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that he is not alive until a certain spirit possessed him.<br />
That‘s nonsense, Dan.<br />
Is it?... Doesn‘t Christianity teach that you are not alive until you are born again<br />
by water in baptism?<br />
But that is only religion, Dan... I‘m talking about what we all exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
Who says we all exper<strong>ie</strong>nce whatever you say we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce?... Only you...<br />
But you agree, don‘t you?<br />
I do. But that is only because I have been taught the same bel<strong>ie</strong>fs and definitions<br />
as you... That‘s what I mean by culture.<br />
And you say it is only language?... That my life is a collection of words.<br />
No... That‘s too crude. Your life may be one thing, but the only access you have to<br />
it is by means of language.<br />
But if I look in the mirror?<br />
What do you see?<br />
I see me... my body and my appearance.<br />
They are words.<br />
I don‘t see words in the mirror, Dan!<br />
Without words you would see nothing.<br />
Don‘t be silly, Dan... I have eyes.<br />
You look and you say, that‘s me, Lotty... That‘s my body... The words define what<br />
your eyes sense... If you didn‘t have the words you couldn‘t know what you saw.<br />
But one can see a thing that one hasn‘t a name for.<br />
Such as?<br />
A kind of dog.<br />
313
But it is a dog. That is how you define the moving blob of colour... It might have a<br />
more particular name, but it is also a dog... Look, Lotty. A better example... In a foreign<br />
city there are streets and buildings, cars and pedestrians. All these things are common to<br />
cit<strong>ie</strong>s. They are to be found in any city... But in this city there is one thing unique to that<br />
city. Now, so long as you don‘t know about its existence, you will never see it.<br />
Of course I would... It would stand out from all the more usual things.<br />
Not necessarily, Lotty... Okay. Try this one... I ask you to look at the trunk of a<br />
tree. What do you do?... Well, for one thing you will wonder why I pointed it out to you.<br />
You will try to find some distinguishing feature, some reason for my having drawn your<br />
attention to it... After you have stud<strong>ie</strong>d it for a while, I then point to a particular area on<br />
the bark. You look and see that the pattern of the bark is broken in subtle ways. Because I<br />
have pointed it out to you, you infer that this area of broken pattern is significant. Then<br />
you ask me, What is it? I say, A moth. At once you understand. You see the moth on the<br />
bark and grasp both why it was hidden from you and why it is now recognisable.<br />
But that has to do with seeing things!<br />
No. You didn‘t see the moth until I pointed it out to you. Just looking of itself<br />
gives you nothing until you know what you expect to see. But even pointing didn‘t tell<br />
you what to see. All you see is an area which I have isolated as significant. You had to<br />
ask me what the sign is. I say a moth, and because you know what a moth is and know<br />
something about how insects can camouflage themselves, you then recapitulate the whole<br />
sequence. In doing this you forget that it was by means of language alone that sight and<br />
pointing were made intelligible, Lotty... We take language so much for granted that we<br />
don‘t realise how deep a part of us it is... It‘s almost impossible to imagine what it would<br />
be like to have no language. One would have to step outside language altogether.<br />
What about deaf and dumb people?<br />
They have vision. They can he taught to recognise signs... Just because they don‘t<br />
speak doesn‘t mean they don‘t use language... When a teacher shows them pictures of<br />
objects, he is showing them words. You see, for the teacher, the pictures represent words,<br />
not things in the world. The teacher is not simply telling the child about the world, he is<br />
communicating signs... Language gives us the world, not the other way round...<br />
I find it hard to accept, Dan... This is almost ready. Will you carve the meat.<br />
Do you want wine?<br />
Do you?<br />
It‘s a good idea... What meat?<br />
Beef.<br />
Good... I‘ll get a claret... Then I‘ll carve... This? It will be fine with beef.<br />
Yes... But it can‘t be all language, Dan... I mean those things in the kitchen here.<br />
They are not language in themselves, Lotty. But...<br />
Pohk!<br />
Ah... They exist for us through language... The point is if there was no language<br />
we wouldn‘t have these things.<br />
What would we have?<br />
Nothing... That is why it‘s so hard to prove this theory of language, Lotty...<br />
Language is so pervasive... so immanent... Hhh.<br />
What?<br />
314
Oh nothing... Where‘s the sharpener?... Got it...<br />
Sssshh... Sssshh... Sssshh... .Sssshh...<br />
I had a curious visitor this afternoon. Some kind of fundamentalist freak.<br />
In College?<br />
In fact he teaches in College. In physics... Hold one.. Where‘s my bag?... Here. He<br />
gave me this...<br />
Bohm and the hidden variable thesis... determining indeterminacy... What is it?<br />
A paper he‘s written... Oh, it‘s quantam physics. I haven‘t read it.<br />
Why do you call him a freak?<br />
Not that... He told me about Armageddon. The final battle between the godly and<br />
the godless.<br />
What?... Why you, Dan? I mean, people don‘t go around College preaching the<br />
end is nigh now, do they?<br />
He‘s the only one so far... If you except the Cliffords, that is.<br />
That‘s Calvin, Dan... That‘s different.<br />
I suppose so...<br />
Why did he pick on you?<br />
Maybe he is doing the rounds... Though there are not many in College.<br />
But he has no reason to choose you, has he?<br />
Not that I know of... Except... But how does he know?<br />
Know what?<br />
Jet trails... Yes... He told me that I had a revelation.<br />
Dan!<br />
How did he find out?... It must be Tony. Who has he been speaking to?<br />
About your theory?... Well, that is certainly Armageddon... here you are.<br />
Good. Roast potatoes. You are really laying it on.<br />
The weather is so miserable.<br />
Let‘s have some wine... You toast...<br />
Me?... Wait... I‘m not sure... Well, to you, Dan. You are a tower of strength...<br />
Ha... That‘s good.<br />
Yes... You are, you know.<br />
What?<br />
A tower of strength... I am thankful for that...<br />
Ha!... Bodkin the prophet... The guy this afternoon... said that god was a tower of<br />
strength... He quoted the Bible... You know.<br />
Yes... A mighty fortress is my God... I remember that... But you can withstand so<br />
many pressures, Dan... You do it on your own... Everyone else seems to need support...<br />
The way they form little groups... Repeating other people‘s ideas...<br />
I use other people‘s ideas, Lotty... You shouldn‘t exaggerate...<br />
But you are not part of any group. You stand on your own.<br />
Well, so do you.<br />
No. I have you and Brian.<br />
And I have you.<br />
Not in the same way... You know that. I can‘t help you in the things you are doing.<br />
Perhaps in a more fundamental way, Lotty.<br />
315
How?<br />
Companionship... You give me an emotional balance.<br />
But you are not emotional, Dan.<br />
That‘s because you keep me balanced... If I were really on my own...<br />
I don‘t think you would be very different, Dan... You are very independent.<br />
Only because I have your support, Lotty... Anyway, here‘s to you and your<br />
support... Ah... The beef is superb, Lotty.<br />
Yes... Is it enough?<br />
Is what enough?<br />
This emotional support.<br />
Yes... Why shouldn‘t it be?<br />
I wondered... Men seem to want so much more.<br />
Such as?<br />
Other men seem more dependent on their wives than you are... They have to do<br />
everything for them.<br />
That‘s different... They never learned to look after themselves... Perhaps they<br />
don‘t want to.<br />
They are like children... They need assurance all the time.<br />
That‘s because they know what they are doing... Uh?<br />
Surely it is the opposite, Dan.<br />
I would have thought so too. That came out of its own accord... Does it make<br />
sense?<br />
It‘s assumed that knowing what one is doing gives one confidence, isn‘t it?<br />
Yes... Am I confident?<br />
You?... No. Not really... Yet you don‘t seem to look for assurance.<br />
The clichés that are passed off as truths... What an existentialist would call the<br />
inauthenticity of their lives.<br />
But people don‘t have control over many of the things that affect them, Dan.<br />
True. But that doesn‘t make their lives any less false.<br />
They can‘t be blamed for that.<br />
I‘m not moralising, Lotty... Who am I to?<br />
Is your life false?<br />
Of course.<br />
And mine?<br />
Yes.<br />
What about Brian?<br />
By now? I don‘t know.<br />
You mean his life might he false? How can you say that, Dan? He‘s only six<br />
weeks old.<br />
You keep seeing it in moral terms, Lotty... It is not that Brian does wrong.<br />
Me, then?<br />
Please don‘t look for someone to blame, Lotty.<br />
Do you think I will give him an oedipal complex?<br />
What?... Not psychology, either... Look, Lotty, if it is a false world, then how<br />
could anyone hope to escape being false?<br />
316
Is that what your prophet said this afternoon?<br />
No... Quite the contrary. True, the world is a pretty rotten place... But there is the<br />
godly in their mighty fortress. They are true.<br />
Do you bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that?<br />
Bodkin says it requires a kind of total self-al<strong>ie</strong>nation... Submission to god.<br />
You don‘t agree?<br />
How could a true god communicate with a false world, Lotty?<br />
Did you say that to him?<br />
No. I was stunned by his... sermon... But how could he? In a false world, language<br />
must he false.<br />
Is it?<br />
For practical purposes, yes.<br />
So God couldn‘t communicate with us?<br />
Don‘t take it so much to heart, Lotty... You‘ve never seemed concerned one way<br />
or the other.<br />
Those divinations, Dan...<br />
You said you would stop that... Have you done it again?... Why?<br />
I needed an answer, Dan... It worked before.<br />
It made no sense. You said that yourself.<br />
It made some sense... You said the words could have some meaning.<br />
You put too much weight on them... What did you ask this time?<br />
About mother... Dan, I was so distraught this afternoon.<br />
I shouldn‘t leave you on your own... You would have spoken to me if I had been<br />
here... What happened?<br />
I‘ll get the Bible. I‘ve marked the page... Here...<br />
What did you ask?<br />
Read it out, Dan. I want to hear it.<br />
This is what upset you. Why...<br />
Please, Dan. Just read it... It‘s from Job.<br />
Okay... If thy children have sinned against him, and he have cast them away for<br />
their transgressions... What did you ask?<br />
About mother.<br />
What about your mother?<br />
I‘m not sure now, Dan... The verse startled me... I couldn‘t see the point.<br />
Why? It was an answer to your question.<br />
I wanted to know where she is now.<br />
And this is the answer... Whose children?<br />
I don‘t know, Dan.<br />
Your mother‘s? That is, you?<br />
Do you think so?<br />
I don‘t know... You were warned against doing it. Remember?<br />
What if it is Brian, Dan?... What you‘ve just said about his falseness.<br />
But you asked where your mother is... This is the answer, Lotty.<br />
She‘s damned?... Dan...<br />
I don‘t know, Lotty... What did you have to do this for?... You shouldn‘t meddle.<br />
317
Dan, will you ask for me?... I know you think it is superstition, but will you?...<br />
Please. I‘ve been so upset about it.<br />
I can well imagine... What do you want to ask? You should be clear about the<br />
question.<br />
I‘m not sure now, Dan... Perhaps about that verse... What it means... It does<br />
trouble me, Dan... Please help me.<br />
Okay... But this will he the last time... I‘m going to ask this question, What does<br />
the verse from Job mean with reference to the whereabouts of your mother?... Now, think<br />
about that question, and that only...<br />
I will... What is it?<br />
Mmm?... Judges twenty, verse thirty six... So the children of the Benjaminites saw<br />
that they were smitten, for the men of Israel gave place to the Benjaminites, because they<br />
trusted unto the l<strong>ie</strong>rs in wait which they had set beside Gibeah...<br />
And?<br />
And what?<br />
What does it mean?<br />
I don‘t know, Lotty... Do you?<br />
Give me the Bible...<br />
The Benjaminites transgressed, Lotty. The result of their transgression was that<br />
they were punished by Israel.<br />
But what has that to do with mother, Dan?... Did she transgress?... What did the<br />
Benjaminites do?... Dan... The men of Gibeah raped the wife of a Levite. She d<strong>ie</strong>d and<br />
her husband cut up her body and sent a p<strong>ie</strong>ce to each of the other tribes of Israel<br />
demanding revenge... That‘s what this verse is about. The Israelites burned the city and<br />
killed all but six hundred of the Benjaminites... What has all that to do with mother? Dan,<br />
what wrong did my mother do?<br />
I don‘t know, Lotty, I thought she lived a blameless life.<br />
A harmless life, you mean... I don‘t understand, Dan. I really don‘t... Oh... Oh...<br />
Lotty, don‘t take it so much to heart, sweetheart... Look, come inside... This<br />
divination... We don‘t know what we are doing. We can‘t he sure...<br />
Dan, both verses are about the same thing!... You can see that as well as I can.<br />
You‘ve just said so.<br />
Yes.<br />
Is that a coincidence?<br />
What else can it be, Lotty?... I mean, you find them incredibly inappropriate.<br />
That‘s not the point!... Oh, this is awful... Dan, we both asked the same question...<br />
and we both got the same answer... Don‘t you find that at least eer<strong>ie</strong>?<br />
I say we don‘t know what we are doing...<br />
Dan!<br />
Okay, Lotty... I‘m trying to find some reason for this... I can‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it is about<br />
your mother. It doesn‘t make sense... You think that too, don‘t you?<br />
Oh, Dan. We asked about mother... Dan, Dan... It frightens me.<br />
No, Lotty...<br />
It does... There‘s nothing you can say to make me deny that... What wrong did<br />
mother do, Dan?... Was she mixed up in something evil?... That guard, Dan, he searched<br />
318
the house. What did he suspect?... Oh, my mother... And she‘s damned now... Oh no,<br />
Dan... Oh... Oh no...<br />
Lotty, please, control yourself.<br />
No... Stop trying to talk me out of this! You have been doing this since... since<br />
mother d<strong>ie</strong>d... Mother is dead and damned!... Oh, oh!<br />
Lotty, come back!... Please...<br />
Tony...<br />
Jesus!... Where did you come from? You startled me.<br />
I was taking a walk. I saw you drive up.<br />
The way you crept up on me...<br />
You‘re very edgy... I simply walked up to you.<br />
Sure, Dick... Sorry... This place... You never know what to expect.<br />
What are you afraid of?<br />
You never know when some yobs are going to mug you or take your car... It‘s<br />
very qu<strong>ie</strong>t along here.<br />
Is it that sort of area?<br />
Everywhere is that sort of area... What‘s it like in London?<br />
Don‘t know... I always act as though I‘m not worth mugging... Come on up. I‘ll<br />
get your gear.<br />
You‘re limping.<br />
Slipped yesterday. Crocked my knee.<br />
Is it serious?... What happened?<br />
No. It‘s clearing up.. I‘ve been walking for the last hour. It‘s tired... Up here.<br />
What happened?<br />
I slipped on a sod of turf... You were right. It was pretty wet... Came down on the<br />
knee.<br />
Good climb?<br />
Yes. Didn‘t rain. Though some cloud on Mullagh. Not too thick... I‘ve put your<br />
stuff in the ruck. There‘s an extra stain on the jacket... I dr<strong>ie</strong>d it.<br />
Campaign decorations... I‘m glad you found the gear useful... What‘s this?... The<br />
bird asked the question many times, repeating...<br />
Hey! Get your nose out.<br />
I‘m surrounded by scribblers... What‘s it about? A new story?... I didn‘t know you<br />
referred to women like that...<br />
It‘s not a story... Notes.<br />
What will it be about?<br />
I don‘t know... Come on. There‘s nothing else to see.<br />
Where do you want to go? Do you want to go into town? The old haunts have<br />
changed, you know.<br />
I daresay... No. We could go into Rathmines.<br />
319
Oh no, Dick... Full of minor civil servants... Enough of that during the day... Let‘s<br />
run over to Donnybrook... No?... You don‘t seem pushed, Dick.<br />
I don‘t drink all that much, actually.<br />
There‘s not much else to do.<br />
It‘s not that, Tony... No need to make an occasion of it... Okay. Choose a place<br />
and let‘s go.<br />
Come on, then... You‘re right though. When you stand back, it does seem a pretty<br />
boring way to pass an evening... Uh...<br />
What?<br />
A real Irish guest house... The kitsch. Everything but the Sacred heart.<br />
It‘s in the master bedroom.<br />
How do you know?<br />
The door was open one morning.<br />
They think very highly of you. When I rang the girl who answered brightened up<br />
when I mentioned your name. Oh Mister Butler, she said with emphasis. I‘m afraid he‘s<br />
not in at the moment... She knew your movements.<br />
I‘m the only guest.<br />
What‘s she like?<br />
About seventeen. Bland. Puppy fat. Sullen schoolgirl...<br />
Good voice though, Dick. Fervent... Is she the bird who asked the question?<br />
No... Anyway, I think the mammy is putting her up to it... Drive on now, will<br />
you.<br />
Okay, we‘ll boot out to the suburbs. It‘ll serve you right... Listen, you are coming<br />
to this thing tomorrow night, aren‘t you?<br />
Yes... Why are you so eager? Is it going to be boring?<br />
I don‘t think so. At least no more than usual. I‘d like you to be there. Meet some<br />
of my old chums from College... You never did meet any of them?<br />
You always kept it separate.<br />
I did... College was unreal, Dick... I enjoyed it. But I knew it wouldn‘t last. I<br />
suppose I let some hidden part of me come out... It‘s a pity you never went to university,<br />
Dick.<br />
Why?<br />
Not for the learning... I hasten to add... Not that, Dick... I think you are wise in<br />
your own way...<br />
Thank you.<br />
That‘s important, isn‘t it?<br />
Only for myself.<br />
Mmm... Will you elaborate? I‘m curious.<br />
How?... It‘s not original and it probably wouldn‘t stand up to argument... It‘s just<br />
what comes out of my writing. If I stopped writing it would probably fade away.<br />
So it‘s not true?<br />
I don‘t know... I wouldn‘t know how to test it for truth... I suppose it keeps me<br />
going. I‘m sure you have ideas like that... Everyone seems to.<br />
Is that all it is?<br />
You‘re disappointed...<br />
320
You‘re a writer. An artist...<br />
And you bel<strong>ie</strong>ve in art?<br />
And you can afford to take that attitude... You‘re on the other side of the<br />
footlights, as it were... Backstage... Anyway, that‘s not what I meant... The social life... It<br />
gives you great confidence.<br />
Do I lack that?<br />
You know you do... I used to think you were reserved... A kind of profound<br />
reserve... You are, in a way... But you are also nervous of people above a certain level...<br />
Isn‘t that true?<br />
Yes and no... It‘s not so much individuals. I find that above a certain level... as<br />
you call it... That what I do seems to be negated...<br />
You mean they are philistine?<br />
No. Actually, they are the ones who read books like mine... They lack a kind of<br />
vulnerability I need in people.<br />
Vulnerability?<br />
Like mine. They‘re not in full control of their lives... The others seem to be...<br />
Control?<br />
Or whatever word you choose. Self-aware. Self-possessed.<br />
What‘s wrong with that?<br />
Nothing in itself, I suppose. It‘s what everyone wants... But... how will I put it?...<br />
From the point of v<strong>ie</strong>w of writing, what comes out of these people is nothing like what<br />
goes in. I mean, what comes out is so restricted and... in a sense, dead.<br />
Ah. I know what you mean... And you think the lower classes are not like that?...<br />
I‘d disagree with you there, Dick.<br />
No... It‘s the thing they can‘t control... Not words... It‘s the sense I have that<br />
something fundamental flows right through them... The middle class blocks that off...<br />
Here we are...<br />
A barn.<br />
Serves you right. Come on, let‘s join the middle class... Anyway, go on with what<br />
you were saying.<br />
You obviously don‘t agree.<br />
I‘m not sure I understand you yet... I mean, I‘m not sure that anyone has that much<br />
control.<br />
Well, let me put it this way. It‘s not that the people I say do not control their lives<br />
are aware of that. It‘s probably necessary for people... Everyone... to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they are in<br />
control of their lives. But I sense something flowing through some people and not through<br />
others... Do you know, Tony, sometimes I meet people who seem to have a kind of<br />
eternity flowing through them...<br />
What kind of people?<br />
It‘s hard to say... I remember a farmer in Tipperary... near a place called<br />
Mullinahone... It was a summer‘s evening... you know, birdsong, scents, corn ripening.<br />
He was coming out of one of his f<strong>ie</strong>lds, fastening the gate with a kind of gentle pat<strong>ie</strong>nce. I<br />
greeted him and he returned it... He was timeless, Tony. As though he was always closing<br />
that gate on a summer‘s evening...<br />
Let‘s sit over there... Hello... Two pints... We‘ll be over there... Thanks... Go on.<br />
321
That‘s it... He was totally vulnerable. Open.<br />
And pretty pleased with himself no doubt.<br />
Perhaps.<br />
Give me another example.<br />
You know what I mean, don‘t you?<br />
I think so.<br />
A porter on the platform at Crewe one winter‘s night... And... yes... A young<br />
woman crying on the street... You feel the emotion?<br />
Yes. I‘ll tell you one... No...<br />
What‘s wrong?<br />
Nothing. I know what you mean anyway, Dick... But why do you say that others<br />
are blocked off? I can‘t accept that.<br />
Let me put it this way... Ah. Drink... Here...<br />
No. I‘ll get this... Right. Thanks... Your good health, Dick.<br />
And yours.<br />
Not great.<br />
No.<br />
But go on anyway.<br />
Okay... I‘ll put it this way. A hundred years ago, the middle classes felt less in<br />
control of their lives... You see? That made novels about them possible...<br />
Got you.<br />
Only the aristocracy had that kind of control... But nowadays, the middle classes<br />
represent the ideal of... The social ideal of human life... It‘s because everyone aspires to<br />
that ideal that the middle classes appear to be in control.<br />
So they seem to be in control because everyone wants to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they are?<br />
In a way.<br />
That‘s not what you said at the beginning, Dick.<br />
But the middle classes themselves bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they are, Tony. So they act as though<br />
they are... I mean, as though what they say is true and how they live is real.<br />
And you don‘t think it is?<br />
I couldn‘t prove that... As you know... I would have to show what is true and real,<br />
and I can‘t... No, I‘m talking about the effect of the charade... I feel... at least I do... that it<br />
blocks off something more profound, something that can be seen to flow through others.<br />
Ah, I understand now... But you don‘t seem to think any other class lives more<br />
real lives, do you?<br />
No. Not in that sense... The real thing seems to be beyond everyone‘s control... Of<br />
necessity, perhaps.<br />
Then you say that human life... as you call it... is always false?<br />
No. False is too strong... But the kind of standard of social life we have now does<br />
block off something deep.<br />
What is it?<br />
Can‘t say, Tony... Something like that emotion you felt earl<strong>ie</strong>r... You can feel it,<br />
but not grasp it... If you try to control it, it just disappears...<br />
Yes... So you‘re glad you didn‘t go to university... You told me once that you<br />
planned to.<br />
322
Didn‘t get round to it... If I had I suppose my life would be different now.<br />
But you always wanted to write?<br />
Something in my life led to that... But it could have been different, There‘s no<br />
virtue in it... Hold on. I‘ll get us some more drink... Excuse me... Yes... Two pints...<br />
What do you think? Pretty staid. Does this block off?<br />
What do you think?<br />
It does... Boring... Would you rather go somewhere else?<br />
It‘ll do. It‘s just for one night... Ah... Here you are... Thanks... Cheers, Tony.<br />
Your health.<br />
They‘re pretty quick... Hey, come on... What‘s wrong?<br />
Oh... What you‘ve said... It‘s a bit of a downer.<br />
Sorry... I‘ve been doing it all the time this week.<br />
You‘re so damned serious, Dick... You ought to mix more... You‘re getting<br />
broody.<br />
So it would seem,<br />
You don‘t mind?<br />
I don‘t... But then I don‘t mix.<br />
How does that woman you live with put up with you?<br />
I‘m not broody all the time... Coming over here has affected me... The weather...<br />
There‘s something enervating about the country... Like a man in a violent mood.<br />
That‘s more like it.<br />
Listen, I meant to ask you... What are you doing to help that northern chap?... The<br />
journalist.<br />
Me? I can‘t help him, Dick.<br />
This fear he has of being shot as an informer, can‘t you help him there?<br />
How? It‘s all in his imagination.<br />
But you did help to put him in that state of mind, you know.<br />
Look, Dick. Don‘t take me wrongly for what I‘m going to say... It‘s easy for you<br />
to take a moral stance. You‘re outside this whole game... for which you should be<br />
grateful. Now, MacShane suffers from a persecution complex. He wants to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that he<br />
will be shot. If he was active in the eye or aye he would bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that the unionists were<br />
out to get him... All I did was get some information from him, he wanted to give it... He<br />
was well paid for it...<br />
Okay.<br />
Sorry, Dick. But I thought we should be clear about that... You see, he‘s<br />
projecting what happened in his youth. Remember? I told you the other night.<br />
Yes,<br />
He wants someone to finish the job of destroying his ego... his identity... He‘s not<br />
the only one. Others use drink and drugs. Some of them become real informers...<br />
MacShane hasn‘t the nerve for any of that. He really is a mediocrity... You‘ve seen him.<br />
His nerves are shook to bits.<br />
Yes. His eyes.<br />
Always moving.<br />
Yes, And the lines around them. Have you noticed?... He can‘t cry.<br />
Cry?<br />
323
He can‘t let what bothers him come out... Tell me, as a matter of curiosity, how<br />
would the eye ar aye punish him?<br />
What do you want to know for?<br />
I had assumed that he wanted to be punished... as you have... But perhaps he<br />
wants to be cured, I mean, in a distorted way.<br />
Cured?... Now that is interesting, Dick... Do you know what they do?... In Belfast<br />
anyway... A doctor in London told me... They mutilate all the sense organs... They put out<br />
the eyes, cut out the tongue, cut up the nose and ears, and cut off the hands... The doctor<br />
thought it was a kind of senseless torture. But if you see it as a cure... Yes... In a horrible<br />
way they cure the informer of his desire to inform... Do you find it morbid, Dick? I‘ll tell<br />
you why. You hear a lot of talk about torture. Some people have a fetish about it. But I<br />
have developed a theory that torturers betray their real desires in how they punish their<br />
victims...<br />
Go on,<br />
You might find this useful, Dick... Look at their preoccupation with the sexual<br />
organs of their victims. That surely betrays the inadequac<strong>ie</strong>s of the torturers. And how<br />
they treat women, especially pregnant women, shows a deep revulsion for life itself...<br />
Then again, Dick, most techniques of torture parallel the methods mystics used to gain<br />
enlightenment. Have you realised that?... Starvation, sleep deprivation, beatings...<br />
flagellation...<br />
But that‘s because the ends are the same. The interrogators and the mystics want<br />
information.<br />
Yes, That‘s it... But see it from the torturers‘ point of v<strong>ie</strong>w. Most forms of torture<br />
are extravagant. That‘s why accounts of torture are so salacious... The torturers are after a<br />
certain kind of knowledge. Can you see that? A deep secret that can only be extracted by<br />
elaborate rituals of pain and fear.<br />
You mean something like a person‘s innermost secret?<br />
Yes... Most confessions extracted under torture are boring. Do you know that?<br />
Usually they are no more than what the victim thinks the torturers wants to hear. A<br />
reflection of what the torturer knows.<br />
But what about specific information, Tony? Like the names of leaders or contacts?<br />
Actually, torture is a very ineffic<strong>ie</strong>nt way of getting information... I‘ve been told<br />
that the more specific the information sought, the less chance there is of getting it... On<br />
the other hand, indiscriminate torturing of large groups y<strong>ie</strong>lds bucket-loads of quite<br />
general information that is either known already or pretty useless... Do you want another?<br />
No... I‘m still tired after yesterday... What about you?<br />
We have tomorrow night. Save myself for that... Will we go?<br />
Sure... That‘s an interesting theory, Tony... In a way it makes torture even more<br />
horrible.<br />
Perhaps. When you think of it. The most systematic user of torture was the<br />
Inquisition.<br />
Misplaced mystics?<br />
Repressed mystics... They both env<strong>ie</strong>d anyone who dared to aspire to mystical<br />
knowledge and drove their victims towards such knowledge.<br />
Hardly, Tony. They always told their victims what they wanted to hear.<br />
324
Precisely, Dick... Don‘t you see... If a tortured victim accepted the Inquisition‘s<br />
formulas, then in an obscure way those formulas became mystical knowledge... Do you<br />
see that, Dick? That meant that pr<strong>ie</strong>stly dogma became a kind of revelation... mystical<br />
revelation... Are you sure you don‘t want a drink somewhere else?<br />
I‘d rather go back. It‘s after eleven anyway... It‘s a good argument, Tony.<br />
Especially that about the Inquisition. It makes sense... Turning human knowledge into<br />
divine knowledge. One way of establishing the truth.<br />
Exactly!... I think that is the most secret desire of Catholicism, Dick. The nearest<br />
they can get is papal infallibility... And, Dick, look at it another way. If you were to ask<br />
people how they would... well, not torture... most people would resent that... but how they<br />
would discover the deepest secrets of another person... That would betray something<br />
about their own deepest desires... What do you think?<br />
How would you?<br />
Give them exactly what they wanted... Appetites, Dick. They‘d get tired of that<br />
and ask for something else... That would go on until their most superficial desires were<br />
jaded. Sooner or later that deep desire would come out...<br />
How would you know it was their deepest desire? It wouldn‘t be possible to<br />
satisfy it. An expensive and time consuming way of going about it...<br />
What do you think the deepest desire would be? Don‘t you know?... Not to d<strong>ie</strong>, of<br />
course. Then you would simply threaten to kill them, No! You don‘t understand, Dick...<br />
Threatened like that, people can be perverse enough to let you kill them... You have to<br />
exhaust all other desires first... They must he left with only one desire... That‘s how the<br />
deep secret comes to the surface.<br />
So man‘s deepest secret is a desire, not knowledge?<br />
Yes... Knowledge is only sublimated desire.<br />
Are you serious, Tony?<br />
Of course I‘m serious.<br />
And you thought I was a sceptic.<br />
No. I thought you were wrong... Remember?... Anyway, how would you go about<br />
discovering the secret?<br />
Let me think for a moment... I had thought of a method, but what you‘ve just said<br />
might render it ineffective... No, I‘ll work it out as I go along... There would be two<br />
elements. First, there would have to be a kind of solitary confinement...<br />
I thought so...<br />
I suppose it is obvious... But at the same time, desire would have to be kindled but<br />
not satisf<strong>ie</strong>d. It would have to be put in abeyance... You see, I think the secret is a form of<br />
knowledge, not desire... Even in your account knowledge is the end sought. You want to<br />
know if your theory of desire is true.<br />
Eh?... Go on anyway.<br />
You talked about satisfying superficial desires in order to expose the basic desire,<br />
which is a desire for eternality. Okay?<br />
Yes.<br />
The secret then is that man wants to be a kind of god... Do you see that?<br />
Yes... The desire to be divine.<br />
325
Okay, now I would argue that there is only one desire... which is manifested in<br />
different ways... I know they talk about the proliferation of desires or needs in<br />
consumerism. But advertising shows that the manipulators of desire know that there is<br />
only one desire.<br />
You mean sex?<br />
That‘s how it appears nowadays... I suppose Freud was the source of that idea.<br />
So it‘s not sex?<br />
Sex is part of it... But, Tony, if you‘d ever exper<strong>ie</strong>nced sexual satiation you would<br />
know that sex isn‘t an end in itself.<br />
Love, then?<br />
It‘s a name for it. Self-preservation is another.<br />
But it‘s not those things either?<br />
No... There‘s no precise name for it.<br />
It‘s the thing that flows through us?<br />
Yes.<br />
And that‘s why it can‘t be satisf<strong>ie</strong>d?... Here we are... So what happens to the<br />
frustrated solitary?<br />
You have to think what being aroused but not satisf<strong>ie</strong>d leads to... You see, my<br />
subject... as such... would come to realise that the desire cannot be satisf<strong>ie</strong>d at all.<br />
Why?<br />
Because he is the desire... In himself... To satisfy that desire would he the end of<br />
the desire and so of him... That would be the first thing he would learn. That he is<br />
identical with the desire...<br />
Then?<br />
Then he would learn what it is that is desired.<br />
And what is that?<br />
I don‘t know... You see, Tony, my subject would he seeking knowledge of<br />
something outside my scope. He‘s the one exper<strong>ie</strong>ncing the desire in that form, not me...<br />
Your subject is merely going to learn something you already know in abstraction... That<br />
he doesn‘t want to d<strong>ie</strong>...<br />
But if this knowledge was worth acquiring...<br />
Exper<strong>ie</strong>ncing.<br />
Exper<strong>ie</strong>ncing... Ah... That‘s better... Then why let another exper<strong>ie</strong>nce it? Why<br />
don‘t you become your own subject?<br />
Indeed... Why not?<br />
Ah... Dick, that is beautiful... Suddenly I understand you, do you know that?<br />
Good.<br />
You want to be pure desire.<br />
I am that already... As you are. And everybody... No. I want to know pure desire...<br />
Rather than sublimations of it.<br />
Is that possible?<br />
I don‘t know yet... But it couldn‘t be put into words... At least not directly...<br />
Your novel... The Red God.<br />
That‘s only a stage, Tony.<br />
Like a mile<strong>stone</strong>?<br />
326
No. Not entirely. It was part of the process, not just a progress report.<br />
I look forward to reading it all the more.<br />
If the publishers accept it.<br />
They will.<br />
For them it is an investment, not an experiment... Anyway, I‘ll go.<br />
I‘ll call down for you tomorrow evening at about eight. Okay?... Oh maybe you<br />
should check out of here tomorrow... Spend the rest of tomorrow night up at the house.<br />
I‘ll drive you out to the boat.<br />
Sure... Thanks,<br />
It was an interesting talk, Dick... Look, don‘t take MacShane seriously. He‘s not<br />
unique. There are lots like him on this island.<br />
Even so, that is no excuse for not helping him if you can.<br />
How? He won‘t leave. We tr<strong>ie</strong>d that... Should we put him in an asylum? What<br />
about all the others?... You‘ve been spoiled over there, you know. England has always<br />
exported her insanity, along with her other problems.<br />
Not any longer, Tony.<br />
No. Not any longer, the pigeons are coming home to roost... Anyway, sleep well.<br />
See you tomorrow.<br />
Take care...<br />
Are you awake?... Lotty! Are you awake?<br />
What do you want?<br />
Oh sweetheart. Don‘t be angry with me... I‘m trying to help you.<br />
You can‘t help anymore, Dan...<br />
You are beginning to pity yourself, Lotty... Alright. You have reason... But...<br />
Stop it, Dan! You talk on and on. You don‘t understand. Stop pretending you do.<br />
I‘m trying to help you... I was helped, Lotty... It made a difference.<br />
Stop!... Please, Dan. I don‘t want to fight with you.<br />
Lotty...<br />
Will you be qu<strong>ie</strong>t, Dan... You distract me... That only makes it worse... Oh, Dan, I<br />
don‘t want to hurt you. I know you mean well... You said I should face this. Well, I‘m<br />
trying to now. I‘m trying to remember everything... I can‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve my mother is damned.<br />
She wasn‘t evil, Dan...<br />
Perhaps if you talk about it.<br />
There‘s nothing to talk about, Dan... Come to bed, Try to sleep.<br />
But I‘ve been thinking about those verses, Lotty... They did upset you.<br />
You are very persistent, Dan... Why don‘t you allow me come to terms with it on<br />
my own?... Don‘t you think I‘m capable?<br />
Lotty, sweetheart, I hate to see you in such misery. Anything I can do...<br />
Oh, alright, Dan. Tell me what you think...<br />
I went over all the verses, Lotty, there is a sequence. Do you remember the first<br />
one? About Solomon‘s dream. He was given the power of understanding. Even so,<br />
327
Solomon turned to a false god, though there is no reference to that in the verse. Now, the<br />
verse from Ecclesiastes says that we should gives a portion to seven or eight as a<br />
protection against evil. Then the verse in Kings tells about Jehoahaz‘s evil...<br />
Dan, what has all this to do with my mother?<br />
I‘m not saying they have anything to do with your mother...<br />
Then why tell me about them?... What we did was blasphemy. What could you<br />
expect? Of course it tells us about evil... It must be our evil, Dan. We appealed to Satan...<br />
Lotty... Don‘t be superstitious. The verses make their own kind of sense... If only<br />
you would listen.<br />
I‘m not interested... You are only trying to distract me, Dan. You won‘t let me be<br />
alone even for one night. I need to think and you won‘t let me.<br />
I thought it would help, Lotty.<br />
It doesn‘t... Dan, I didn‘t want to say this... You are more afraid of this than I am...<br />
Nonsense.<br />
You are... You never faced... as you call it... the deaths of your parents... No! You<br />
didn‘t. You bur<strong>ie</strong>d yourself in all this studying...<br />
Lotty, that‘s not true. We‘ve already discussed that...<br />
Listen to me for once, Dan!... You‘ve hidden yourself in all this endless research<br />
because you are afraid of their deaths... No... I sympathise with you. I don‘t want to hurt<br />
you, Dan... But I must tell you this... And you marr<strong>ie</strong>d me because...<br />
Lotty!... Sweetheart, you are under stress. You‘ll regret saying all this...<br />
I am going to say it, Dan... You‘ll drive me into the same state of mind as yourself<br />
otherwise... Please, I don‘t want to hurt you. I want you to understand... You marr<strong>ie</strong>d me<br />
to replace your mother... Dan! Listen!... That‘s why you never dream of her... Don‘t you<br />
see even that?<br />
Lotty, please...<br />
No!... You can tell me what you think, but you will not let me speak my mind...<br />
That‘s very unfair, Dan...<br />
But what you are saying...<br />
It is what I think, Dan... You should know what I think. I am your wife... I don‘t<br />
mind if that was your reason, Dan. There are worse reasons. You are a considerate man.<br />
You make me happy... You see? I am not criticizing you. I want you to understand<br />
yourself... I have always known why you marr<strong>ie</strong>d me. You marr<strong>ie</strong>d me to replace your<br />
mother. But you could have marr<strong>ie</strong>d many other girls for that reason... You chose me<br />
because you thought I would never realise what you were doing...<br />
Lotty...<br />
It‘s true, Dan. Don‘t try to deny it... That‘s why you didn‘t consider Maire<br />
MacMahon. You thought she was too perceptive... too intelligent... to let you away with<br />
it... Darling, I want to tell you this so you will know me better. I am not stupid...<br />
I never thought...<br />
You think I‘m bright enough to chat to in the evening. But you don‘t think I am<br />
bright enough to understand you... But I do, darling. I have always understood you... You<br />
suffered a terrible shock. To lose both parents at once in that way, Dan. You might never<br />
come to terms with that... No, Don‘t speak... I want to think about my mother now... L<strong>ie</strong><br />
here beside me... Oh Dan, don‘t look so ashamed...<br />
328
Lotty, you...<br />
Hush... Dan, I love you... Nothing else matters, darling.<br />
Please, Lotty. Don‘t get carr<strong>ie</strong>d away...<br />
Love me, Dan. That‘s all... Forget your shame.<br />
Lotty! I‘m not ashamed... I‘m embarrassed... I‘m embarrassed for you... I know<br />
you are saying all this because you are upset about your mother‘s death. But you must<br />
keep a sense of proportion...<br />
Don‘t you love me, Dan?<br />
Of course I do, Lotty... But you must not try to take your mother‘s place... Can‘t<br />
you see that? That won‘t bring her back.<br />
That‘s not true, Dan!... You are trying to distract me again... It‘s not fair!<br />
Keep your voice down, Lotty. There‘s no need to shout.<br />
Oh, oh, oh... You hurt me so, Dan... You do...<br />
Please, Lotty, this is becoming absurd...<br />
You just don‘t understand... You keep trying to take it over... Huh-huh-huh...<br />
Oh God, Lotty, don‘t cry... Sweetheart... Please...<br />
Oh leave me alone... Why can‘t you leave me to myself...<br />
Lotty...<br />
Leave me alone!... Oh, huh-huh-huh...<br />
SATURDAY<br />
I would not have thought that Tony was a seeker after truth: he seemed<br />
content to stay within the ambit of the catholic bel<strong>ie</strong>f in the omni-competence of<br />
the intellect, though not submitting to the church‘s claim to control the intellect.<br />
But perhaps he expresses the deeper doubt in the value of what is known. His<br />
theory of the aim of the Inquisition — very interesting — to uncover the divinity<br />
of human knowledge in the confessions of men and women driven to the very<br />
edge of sanity: that the knowledge they accept in the depth of pain and despair<br />
must be true. But surely this is only indoctrination of a very extreme kind. Presented<br />
as statements of bel<strong>ie</strong>f, and received repeatedly under conditions of great<br />
pain and distress, would imprint those statements on a mind bludgeoned into<br />
being a tabula rasa. If the victim then repeats these statements in response to<br />
leading questions — as in a catechism — could they be regarded as true? Of<br />
course not; and Tony doesn‘t think they would be true.<br />
But Tony bel<strong>ie</strong>ves that the aim is valid in principle. His own method is<br />
simply an inversion of that of the Inquisition. Instead of deprivation and pain, he<br />
would use satiation and pleasure: but he would use them to the same end ach<strong>ie</strong>ved<br />
by the Inquisition — to deny their value. Again, he sought to uncover the<br />
329
fundamental desire of man as the truth, rather than knowledge. But his description<br />
of knowledge as sublimated desire is a superficial imposition of a modern theory<br />
on his more fundamental assumptions. Tony actually seeks knowledge — but<br />
again reflecting a modern theory of knowledge, he seeks the confirmation of<br />
knowledge — he already knows (hypothesises) what the fundamental desire is<br />
rather than the reflection of knowledge. Instead of seeking the reflection<br />
(repetition) of knowledge in the intellect of another, he seeks confirmation of<br />
knowledge in the body of the other.<br />
Actually he is not the thomist rationalist I thought he was. He is quite<br />
modern: he is not an intellectualist. Instead of a multiplicity of like intellects<br />
communicating at the level of reason, he reflects the modern split between mind<br />
and body, where the mind is situated in the self as subject and the body in the<br />
other as object. There is only one mind — that of the self — and one body, externality.<br />
The mind controls and the body is controlled. Desire appears in the mind as<br />
will and in the body as motion. In his examination of the other under these<br />
conditions, Tony would be as ruthless as the Inquisition. For one thing, the body<br />
would he as valueless for Tony as it was for the Inquisition. But he would lack the<br />
redemptive purpose: the Inquisition tortured bod<strong>ie</strong>s in order to save souls —<br />
appalling but logical — while Tony would disorder bod<strong>ie</strong>s — disorder as in a<br />
laboratory, where functions are isolated to the detriment of the whole organism —<br />
and discard them, and the minds of his specimens, once his hypothesis had been<br />
confirmed. It would be confirmed, of course, for Tony‘s hypothesis would be<br />
characteristically a dogma, not a probability — his assumptions would determine<br />
that.<br />
What about my own method? It is a reflection of Tony‘s – as might be<br />
expected. But it was not his method as such that stimulated me. What of value can<br />
be learned from tormenting the bod<strong>ie</strong>s of others? The brute cannot speak, we can<br />
only superimpose our own knowledge on it. No, it was his aim of uncovering a<br />
secret that aroused my interest, though this, as I quickly realised, was not Tony‘s<br />
actual intention. He did not seek new knowledge, but the confirmation of his own<br />
knowledge. I then remodelled his method in order that new knowledge could be<br />
gained. I did remodel his method, because I don‘t think desire has anything to do<br />
with it. Putting desire in abeyance is merely to secure its future satisfaction. So<br />
although I put it differently, I sought the same end as Tony: satiation — but not as<br />
an end in itself. The satisfaction of a desire is just that; there is nothing mysterious<br />
or profound in it. But Tony doesn‘t want merely to satisfy desire, he wants to<br />
overload it with surfeit, to turn pleasure into a labour, a molestation. But this is<br />
the phantasy of an unsatisf<strong>ie</strong>d man, whose imaginary satisfaction can only repeat<br />
itself endlessly without providing real rel<strong>ie</strong>f. To secure satisfaction is to free oneself<br />
from the burden of the desire and to free oneself for other things.<br />
Tony wasn‘t surprised when I said my subject would be kept in solitude.<br />
Obviously Tony sees that as characteristic of me. But Tony didn‘t realise that his<br />
own subject would be kept in solitude too, as would the subjects of any enquiry or<br />
experiment (or torture). Why did Tony not know that? Because he does not like<br />
solitude. Unsatisf<strong>ie</strong>d, he seeks the company of those who would provide him with<br />
330
satisfaction. What he doesn‘t know is that once satisf<strong>ie</strong>d, one becomes aware of<br />
one‘s solitude, for contentment is a solitary exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. But he did grasp that,<br />
however vaguely, when he said that I should be my own subject. I suspect Tony<br />
avoids satisfying his desire because he is afraid of that solitude. Yet, once he<br />
realised that I would be my own subject in such an enquiry, he was illuminated.<br />
What did he understand? He said he understood me, but was that all? I must talk<br />
to him about it.<br />
What he could have understood is this: it is desire that drives us into the<br />
company of others, whether it be for satisfaction or the confirmation of ideas. The<br />
Inquisition was driven by a desire for a kind of truth. But in satisfaction there is<br />
the end of desire: one enters the state of contentment. What is ach<strong>ie</strong>ved beyond<br />
desire is not knowledge of desire but a state of being. Satisfaction unites mind and<br />
body, it ends that cruel duality. Both mind and body enter the one state.<br />
The distinction between knowing and what is known, between will and<br />
motion, is removed. What can be learned of such a state? Under Tony‘s influence<br />
I described a method for learning new knowledge. Then I said that such new<br />
knowledge could not be communicated directly. But I realise now that there could<br />
be no new knowledge in the sense we assumed. There would be nothing to<br />
communicate, for there would be no mind to know and no body to be known.<br />
This is the rapt state again: ordinarily what we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is the flow of –.<br />
But is it desire? This profound flow I see in some people is not just a desire: they<br />
are not aware of it even. It is in me, just beyond my grasp: it is in everyone. It is<br />
not satisfaction either — though of course Tony would see it as that. But being<br />
satisf<strong>ie</strong>d seems to facilitate the flow. Not the self-congratulation that masquerades<br />
as satisfaction for some, but a kind of state of acceptance of the suffic<strong>ie</strong>ncy of the<br />
satisfaction possible for us. Such a satisfaction is deep and pervasive, not<br />
dependent on this or that momentary satisfaction. It is a satisfaction with life as a<br />
whole: that this life is enough as a possible life for us. Among such people the<br />
flow — whatever it is — can be perceived, and where there is a profound<br />
acceptance, then the flow is perceived as a kind of eternality, as though such a life<br />
could be lived at any time or in any place.<br />
Good morning, Mister Butler.<br />
Good morning, Misses MacLane... The sun is shining.<br />
Oh, there will be showers later according to the forecast.<br />
As usual.<br />
Did you have a nice evening out?<br />
Yes.<br />
It‘s a pity the weather is so had. It has spoiled your holiday.<br />
Not too much, Misses MacLane. I hadn‘t banked on the weather... Actually it is<br />
more of a rest than a holiday... Oh by the way... I will be leaving today...<br />
Oh, I thought you weren‘t going until next week.<br />
331
I‘m going over tomorrow morning. I‘ll he staying with a fr<strong>ie</strong>nd tonight... Do you<br />
think I could leave my bag here until this evening?<br />
Surely, Mister Butler. You can leave it in the room... I‘ll get the rest of your<br />
breakfast now.<br />
Thank you.<br />
There... Mister Butler.<br />
Oh thanks... Sorcha.<br />
Mammy told me to tell you that you can use the room until you go. She has people<br />
coming today but she doesn‘t think she will need the room...<br />
That‘s good of her. Will you thank her for me for her consideration.<br />
She said you could use the front room if your room is too chilly... The television is<br />
in there... If you wanted to watch the sport.<br />
No... I‘ll probably go for a walk.<br />
You could do your writing in there... Mammy said it would he more comfortable.<br />
No. I...<br />
The books are in there... The dictionary and all.<br />
They‘re only jottings. Sorcha, I wouldn‘t need those things...<br />
You could‘ve used the front room any time, Mister Butler... Mammy should have<br />
told you that...<br />
I really didn‘t need to... But thanks all the same... And thank you for bringing this<br />
food...<br />
Don‘t mention it...<br />
Did the ‗bird‘ ask that question or did I imagine it? Why in any case<br />
should such a question be asked: ‗Why do you want fire?‘ The tone of the<br />
question — remembering the incident now — seems to have been one of chiding<br />
(not the precise word — too strong — I need a dictionary!) — anyway — as<br />
though I was betraying something or someone by looking for fire. I see that in the<br />
hallucination (?) I asked for light — has that anything to do with it? I wanted light<br />
so I could see what was in the grey place. I saw a bird — was there some error in<br />
this? I mean in seeing the image of a bird. Did I superimpose that image on<br />
something I could not otherwise perceive? That impl<strong>ie</strong>s that I could not trust the<br />
fact of mere presence — no, I was curious. It was curiosity that pushed me to ask<br />
for light — I wanted to see what was there.<br />
Is that all? When I heard the ‗bird‘s‘ question, I saw the lights of Dublin.<br />
That was certainly from memory. I was in a mist and it was daylight. At night the<br />
lights of the city — especially on cloudy nights — can throw a faint light on the<br />
mountain tops. It would dissolve the natural-for-itself quality of the hills. Ah, yes<br />
332
— an excellent image of the ‗light of reason‘. The light is not the object, though<br />
the light reveals a kind of surface of the object. Thus light made the thing in the<br />
greyness appear as a bird, though obviously it was not a bird. I formed the<br />
thing/being in my own image — according to my knowledge and expectation.<br />
What the being was saying then was why could I not ‗relate‘ to it properly —<br />
which would appear as greyness and a vague presence.<br />
Yes?... Oh Misses MacLane.<br />
Mister Butler, I brought you up your bill... No. Pay me later... If you don‘t have<br />
enough Irish money, you can give it to me in sterling... Oh and I brought you up a cup of<br />
coffee.<br />
You really shouldn‘t, Misses MacLane...<br />
Will I put it here?<br />
Yes... And thank you.<br />
Sorcha gave out to me because I didn‘t tell you to use the front room for your<br />
writing.<br />
They‘re just notes, I‘m finishing them off now.<br />
Are you a teacher, Mister Butler?<br />
No.<br />
My husband was... That‘s why Sorcha thought you should work in the front room.<br />
He did... She misses him a lot... as you can expect.<br />
I didn‘t realise your husband was dead.<br />
Two years ago, Mister Butler... Cancer... Luckily I had this... the guest house... He<br />
was a great help to the girls... I‘m not much use, I‘m afraid... The things they‘re taught<br />
today... What do you do?<br />
I‘m a writer... I write novels.<br />
Oh... Novels... You must like doing that.<br />
I do...<br />
Are you writing one now?<br />
No... This is a kind of journal.<br />
It‘s a very lonely occupation... There was a man at home... from America. He was<br />
a recluse. I saw him only once. He was standing at his door, looking out at something...<br />
His wife did all the shopping.<br />
I‘m not that bad, Misses MacLane...<br />
No. I didn‘t think you were... I wouldn‘t have bel<strong>ie</strong>ved you were a writer.<br />
Why?<br />
You don‘t have any airs.<br />
I‘m afraid I‘m very ordinary. Not a bit mad... Anyway, thank you for the coffee.<br />
You really are very kind.<br />
Will you come down to lunch? We would like that... Or dinner?<br />
Actually, I‘ll he going out soon,<br />
It‘s no trouble, Mister Butler... You could be just like one of the family.<br />
333
Well... Dinner then.<br />
Good... At about six?<br />
Yes.<br />
See you then...<br />
It‘s a curious line of thought. Allowing that I did hallucinate the bird and<br />
its question, how long did I l<strong>ie</strong> there, paralysed and dumb? I‘ve no way of<br />
knowing. Taking account of the fact that I hitched into Blessington, I got there<br />
about two hours later than I estimated. My knee slowed me coming down. So an<br />
hour. Did I l<strong>ie</strong> there for an hour? The chap who helped me had obviously just<br />
climbed up, and I suppose he thought I had fallen just then. What about the<br />
paralysis and dumbness? And my knee? Are they significant? And why a<br />
crow/raven-like bird anyway? I‘ve just re-read my account of the climb — I<br />
carr<strong>ie</strong>d my left arm crooked across my chest. What else? The atmosphere of<br />
compassion at the foot of the mountain. The beautiful yellow light as I came<br />
down. Does all this signify something? What about the boy scouts on the bus and<br />
their insignia? And the bridge and St John and St Bridget — saints of fire?<br />
What happened up there? What do all these events me an?<br />
Did I have some kind of mystical exper<strong>ie</strong>nce? List the events:<br />
1. Tallaght as a cemetery — leaving the city of the dead in spirit. (Hence the light<br />
of Dublin as an example of the light I sought. )<br />
2. The boy scouts and their insignia — purity and innocence — the fleur-de-lis.<br />
3.The bridge — crossing water: the saints — fire. The Red God: life and death —<br />
passing beyond them.<br />
4. The amb<strong>ie</strong>nce of the mountain — compassion: cool, dark, silent, deep.<br />
5. Cloud descends: no sun — no day, yet not night.<br />
6. Fall and hallucination.<br />
7. Clouds lift as I leave the mountain — return of day: strong sense of life-eros.<br />
8. The raven between me and the mountain — as though closing something.<br />
9. The light above the lake: only the ‗innocent‘ could look at it – yet I couldn‘t. I<br />
was upset at this — that‘s why I made the later note: I had searched for the light<br />
and couldn‘t seem to find it. It‘s obvious now that I had learned my lesson — I no<br />
longer wanted (searched for) light!<br />
The sequence makes sense. My crooked left arm was a sh<strong>ie</strong>ld. But my<br />
knee? That doesn‘t fit. Perhaps a simple physical fact – after all I did fall.<br />
What am I to make of this? Obviously nothing. I should not shine ‗light‘<br />
on it. Except this — I notice I fell asleep on my last pause before climbing to the<br />
summit. How long did I sleep? Did I exper<strong>ie</strong>nce anything then? It might be that<br />
the fall was not the central event — it could have been cautionary only. The<br />
earl<strong>ie</strong>r sleep might be the central event. Of that I certainly remember nothing!<br />
334
However, while equivalent meaning points towards free meaning or<br />
identity, identity does not explain equivalence. No inference can be drawn from an<br />
identity which would indicate the necessity for the circle of equivalent statements<br />
that points to it. As a set, equivalent statements do not enhance the meaning<br />
instanced in each statement: there is no cumulation of meaning in the set as a<br />
whole. From the perspective of identity, any statement in the set conveys, as<br />
adequately as possible in language, the meaning of the set: the statements of the<br />
set are completely interchangeable. Even so, the set of equivalent statements is the<br />
precondition for grasping the presence of free meaning: knowledge of only one<br />
statement would not prompt such a grasping. Thus, equivalence must precede<br />
identity.<br />
How then does equivalence arise?<br />
It is obvious that many equivalent statements are possible because most<br />
languages are the outcome of the mingling of languages. This is the historical<br />
source of equivalence. Thus in English equivalence arises because the same<br />
meaning can be expressed in words of Germanic, French, Latin and Celtic origins.<br />
Equivalence also arises from human intentions, that is, they have a basis in human<br />
practice. Thus, meanings are conveyed by statements determined by frequency of<br />
use, by a desire for economy of expression, and by standardisation, as in learned<br />
disciplines, organisations and fashion. But at the same time, equivalent statements<br />
proliferate under the demands of individual events and according to the linguistic<br />
skill of the utterer.<br />
In both of these circumstances, the historical and the intentional,<br />
equivalent statements are generated with reference to human needs and the actual<br />
world. Linguistically, the proliferation of equivalent statements here is accidental.<br />
But equivalent statements are also generated deliberately. In rhetoric, equivalent<br />
statements are generated with the intention of motivating others to specific ends.<br />
The reference to the actual world here is indirect: the aim is to influence human<br />
actions. Rhetoric is a practical activity: it is a form of indirect command. Thus<br />
while rhetoric deliberately generates equivalent statements, it does so with<br />
reference to human needs and not to the world.<br />
In these cases, equivalent statements are generated for practical purposes,<br />
that is, for extra-linguistic ends. They serve to articulate human intentions, to<br />
handle the actual world, and to organise human soc<strong>ie</strong>ty. However, these uses of<br />
equivalence would not of themselves lead to the grasping of free meaning. In fact,<br />
they do not require any awareness of free meaning. In practical human<br />
communication, equivalence appears and disappears in habitual translation, where<br />
meaning appears to slide without seam from statement to equivalent statement.<br />
Difficulty of translation — misunderstandings — are resolved by a return to the<br />
initial statement of meaning, followed by repeated attempts to cross from that<br />
statement into an acceptable equivalent statement, discovered by the presentation<br />
of alternative statements. There is no focal point of absolute meaning: there is<br />
only the circuit of equivalent statements. To hold one statement as the paradigm<br />
335
meaning of all the other statements of the set is only a convention: it is not<br />
possible to prove that it is absolute. Even in the recognition of the meaning of a<br />
statement there is no leap to absolute meaning: what is recognised can only he<br />
expressed by means of equivalent statements.<br />
But while an awareness of free meaning is not necessary for the practical<br />
use of language, such an awareness can arise at certain moments in such practical<br />
use. Any act of translation, within a language or between languages, presents the<br />
possibility of grasping the existence of free meaning. It is not necessary that the<br />
act of translation encounters difficult<strong>ie</strong>s for such a grasping to be possible. All that<br />
is required is a momentary lapse of practical concern during an act of translation.<br />
At once there is illumination: two equivalent statements cannot occupy the same<br />
span of attention. Two equivalent statements have the same meaning, but they are<br />
not totally identical: they cannot be superimposed or merged. Yet, in ser<strong>ie</strong>s,<br />
something crosses from one to another — the same meaning. For an instant, and<br />
vaguely, meaning floats free of the statements.<br />
Of itself, free meaning appears to have no practical use. It cannot be<br />
formulated, except by means of equivalent statements, so it cannot serve as an<br />
absolute reference of meaning. But once grasped, free meaning has a compelling<br />
attraction. The force of this attraction can he seen in those disciplines which<br />
pursue meaning as far as they can, notably philosophy and theology. Here, certain<br />
words and phrases are taken from their practical contexts and given new<br />
significance: such words as god, universal, good, being, one, life, death. Usually,<br />
however, the new significances given to these words are assumed — perhaps<br />
unavoidably, given the ordinary language use — to represent objects, which<br />
though not necessarily actual nevertheless are regarded as having some kind of<br />
analogical existence. Thus the extension of the meaning of ‗being‘ — ordinarily a<br />
sign of equation (‗The man is old‘ is the same as ‗the man‘=‗the old‘, in effect<br />
equating two statements. Incidentally, all predications reduce to equivalence: for<br />
instance, ‗The man runs‘ is the same as ‗The man is running‘, so that ‗the man‘ =<br />
‗the runner‘. Tense is an arbitrary — from the linguistic perspective – practical<br />
designation. Thus, ‗The man ran‘ is the same as ‗the man‘ = ‗the runner‘ located<br />
as a past event in actuality. Likewise, spatial specification is arbitrary. ‗The man<br />
runs in the f<strong>ie</strong>ld‘ remains ‗the man‘ = ‗the runner‘ and ‗in the f<strong>ie</strong>ld‘ is a practical<br />
designation of the event described which adds nothing essential to the equivalent<br />
statements.) is regarded as representing a thing in itself possessing some kind of<br />
existence. This assumption is based on the practical assumption that words derive<br />
their meanings from referents in the actuality. Now, while it is impossible to<br />
prove that language could exist without actual referents, such that the whole<br />
system of predication could be counted as meaningful without tests against<br />
actuality, it still does not follow that actuality determines language. It remains the<br />
case that language can be learned and used cogently without reference to actuality.<br />
Again, from the perspective of language, actual objects are always equivalent<br />
signs of words and statements. Words and statements cannot be signs of actual<br />
objects, because actual objects cannot be articulated expressively: they remain in<br />
themselves non-equivalent unit<strong>ie</strong>s isolated from the external continuum by<br />
336
linguistic reference. The phenomenon of a blob of motion in a relatively<br />
motionless f<strong>ie</strong>ld of vision could not give meaning to the statement, ‗The dog<br />
runs‘: the statement isolates elements in the f<strong>ie</strong>ld, which become signs of<br />
equivalence of the statement. The statement gives meaning to the play of motion<br />
by means of a translation to equivalent signs. Thus, it can be asserted, though not<br />
proven in actuality, that without language there would be no ‗reality‘, for ‗reality‘<br />
is a network of signs designated as equivalents of words and statements.<br />
For this reason, the practical assumption that words derive their meaning<br />
from actual referents is a convention that arose from ordinary language use. It is<br />
assumed that language is primarily about things. Because of the autonomy of<br />
externality, and because language refers to it either causally, leading to action<br />
upon externality, or responsively, ex post factum, language has been regarded as<br />
non-equivalent to externality, because it neither precedes or proceeds external<br />
events. Thus language is seen as secondary, merely an instrument useful in man‘s<br />
relations to externality. But reference is not the primary end of language —<br />
communication is primary. Language is primarily the mode of meaning,<br />
transmitted from human to human. Before a statement makes reference, it conveys<br />
meaning. The common mistake made in using language arises here. If one says<br />
‗The dog runs‘, it can he taken to refer to an event perceivable at the moment. If<br />
no such event is perceivable, it is taken to refer to a non-present but actual event.<br />
But in both cases it is the meaning of the statement that is grasped, not the<br />
reference to a present or non-present actual event, if I say instead ‗he blug aloor‘<br />
and point to a running dog, thus conveying no meaning but indicating otherwise a<br />
reference, I will not be understood. The auditor will doubt that I am referring to<br />
the running dog — because the f<strong>ie</strong>ld of perception will contain many other events<br />
to which he could think I am referring.<br />
But, it might be asked, what is the meaning of the statement ‗The dog<br />
runs‘ if not an actual event? The answer, of course, will be an equivalent<br />
statement. Normally this fact will not be grasped, for the equivalent statement has<br />
the same actual referent. Thus it will be assumed that a set of equivalent<br />
statements is a circle of variable signification surrounding a single referent. Here<br />
language appears as evanescent utterances which swirl like mist about a concrete<br />
object. But the actual referent never appears concretely in the act of translation<br />
from statement to equivalent statement. That would be impossible because the<br />
actual referent is inexpressive. Instead, what appears fleetingly is meaning freed<br />
from signification, that which all equivalent statements of the relevant set convey<br />
by means of equivalence but not of identity.<br />
What meaning is being conveyed? The problem with the statement ‗The<br />
dog runs‘ is that it seems compellingly to be referring to an actual event. Of<br />
course, in practical usage it could. But the statement, stripped of its arbitrary<br />
practical designation, can be reformulated as the statement ‗the dog‘ = ‗the<br />
runner‘. All its equivalent statements can be reformulated in this manner also.<br />
Now, to choose any particular equivalent statement as the paradigm of the<br />
meaning of the set of equivalent statements is ultimately an arbitrary choice,<br />
undertaken here as a matter of conven<strong>ie</strong>nce, thus to discuss the free meaning or<br />
337
identity of the set of which ‗The dog runs‘ is one equivalent statement by the use<br />
of that statement is not to imply that it is the free meaning of the set. However, it<br />
is evident that the free meaning of the set is a combination of terms: for the<br />
equivalent meaning chosen here as paradigm can be reformulated as the equation<br />
‗the dog‘ = ‗the runner‘. This, of course, is not a ‗deeper‘ meaning of the<br />
equivalent statement. It is merely the separation of a linguistic core from an<br />
arbitrary practical formulation. Even so, this core is merely another equivalent<br />
statement.<br />
However, while this exercise in reformulation demonstrates the fact that<br />
any attempt to indicate meaning merely generates equivalent statements, it also<br />
points to a deep structure in language. The statement ‗the dog = the runner‘<br />
contains an equation of terms, ‗the dog‘ and ‗the runner‘. Now, on one hand, it is<br />
a meaningful equation, but it is also a relation of two terms of quite different<br />
natures. The dog is not just the runner; it is also the barker, the four-legged, etc.<br />
Again, not only is the dog the runner, but the man is also the runner, and the<br />
horse, the lion, etc. Thus the two terms, though they can be presented as equivalents,<br />
also belong to distinct sets of equivalent statements: ‗the dog = the<br />
runner, the barker, etc‘ and ‗the runner = the dog, the horse, the man, etc‘. This<br />
means that while we cannot signify the free meaning of the set of equivalent<br />
statements to which ‗the dog = the runner‘ belongs, we can see that the statements<br />
of the set are in a sense conjunctions of other sets of equivalent statements, each<br />
of which has a distinct identity, one which contains ‗the dog‘ as a paradigm<br />
statement, and one which contains ‗the runner‘ as a paradigm.<br />
It seems, therefore, that the identity of the set of which ‗the dog = the<br />
runner‘ is a paradigm is composite, containing as it does elements which can<br />
belong to quite different equivalent statements. The task then, it might be thought,<br />
is to reduce identity to atomic units, to say that the set which includes ‗the dog =<br />
the runner‘ is a combination of identit<strong>ie</strong>s. But this is to forget that identity arises<br />
from equivalence. It is only because there are equivalent statements that free<br />
meaning or identity can be grasped. As well as this, it is also clear that meaning<br />
does not rise from the linguistic deep structure discerned above.<br />
Even so, the fact that equivalent statements can be shown themselves to be<br />
formed of equivalent statements serves to uncover another level of meaning in<br />
language. The translation between these ‗internal‘ equivalent statements can lead<br />
to the grasping of free meaning. But this time free meaning is not the identity of<br />
predicative statements, but apparently of subjects. The identity which is vaguely<br />
grasped in the translation from ‗the dog‘ to ‗the runner‘ seems to be an object<br />
freed from all reference. But is this so? Notice that the sets to which respectively<br />
‗the dog‘ and ‗the runner‘ belong contain words which function differently in<br />
ordinary language. The set to which ‗the dog‘ belongs contains terms like ‗the<br />
barker, the four-legged‘ , while that of the ‗runner‘ contains terms like ‗the horse,<br />
the man‘. The terms in the ‗dog‘ set are used as predicates, while those in the<br />
‗runner‘ set are subjects. The statement ‗the dog = the barker‘ is the same as ‗the<br />
dog is barking‘, and is meaningful. But the statement ‗the runner = the horse‘<br />
338
appears to be the same as ‗the runner is horsing‘, which would be regarded as<br />
meaningless.<br />
Obviously, though ‗the dog‘ and ‗the runner‘ are equivalent, and though<br />
the terms can belong to distinct sets of equivalent statements, they seem to have<br />
very different functions in ordinary language. This impl<strong>ie</strong>s that while ‗the runner‘<br />
can be the equivalent of ‗the dog‘, it can only be so because of some determinative<br />
characteristic of the term ‗the dog‘. The terms are equivalent, but they are not<br />
interchangeable. But this is true only of ordinary language usage. To say that ‗the<br />
runner is dogging‘, or ‗the runner dogs‘, may seem meaningless, but it is only to<br />
say that ‗the runner is dog-like‘, which conveys the same meaning as ‗the dog<br />
runs‘, The mistake in the first two formulations is to attempt to give ‗the dog‘ a<br />
verb form, forgetting that ‗the runner‘ itself conveys the action adequately. This<br />
suggests that subjects are not necessarily determinants of statements. Given an<br />
emphasis on action rather than subjects, predicates could be determinative.<br />
What all this suggests is that language can be reduced to terms that are<br />
related through networks of equivalence. Thus ‗the dog‘ is equivalent to its<br />
synonyms, to its attributes, and to predicates of it. This is a linguistic network, not<br />
one of logic or description. Ordinary language usage will grant equivalence to the<br />
synonyms but not to attributes or predications. But at the level of meaning it<br />
would appear that subjects and attributes, and subjects and predicates, are<br />
equivalents. That it is otherwise in ordinary language usage is the result of<br />
arbitrary habits of designation, which arise from how man has come to treat<br />
externality, dividing it into a plurality of objects and a temporal flow of past,<br />
present and future. At the level of meaning there is no spatiality or temporality.<br />
Meaning appears directly in equivalence, but has presence, if only vaguely, at the<br />
level of identity.<br />
Lotty... Are you awake, Lotty?... It‘s after three... Lotty...<br />
Leave me alone, Dan!... I told you...<br />
Please, Lotty... Haven‘t you carr<strong>ie</strong>d this far enough?<br />
Leave me alone!<br />
Very well... I‘ve left you something to eat... You haven‘t eaten today... By the<br />
way, what do you think we should get for tonight?... Lotty... Please...<br />
Aaaagh... Go away!<br />
On the basis of this analysis, it can be seen that philosophy and theology<br />
are reflections upon meaning. But this is rarely clear in these disciplines. They are<br />
usually undertaken as investigations of a presumed externality already ordered and<br />
meaningful in itself. But language is about externality only to the extent that<br />
339
externality becomes signification, when it at once becomes a network of<br />
equivalent statements. This is possible only because language exists, that is, there<br />
is a prior system of signs, from which translation is possible. Externality is<br />
meaningful only because meaning is apparent in language; meaning is translated<br />
not to externality but to the signification imposed upon it. The bel<strong>ie</strong>f that actuality<br />
is meaningful — that the perception of a dog running gives meaning to the<br />
statement ‗The dog runs‘ — is to forget that the motion witnessed has been<br />
isolated and signif<strong>ie</strong>d, and thus given equivalent meaning, by the power of<br />
language in the first place. It is to forget that language is primarily a means of<br />
communication between humans, that is, the articulation of words and statements<br />
possessing equivalent meaning, and only secondly a system of reference, a system<br />
which, moreover, is one of reflection and not simply of representation. The<br />
referent of ‗the dog‘ is not the presence represented in the word, but is a kind of<br />
mirror which reflects an earl<strong>ie</strong>r instance of ‗the dog‘ or an equivalent.<br />
But ordinary language nonetheless appears to be a system of reference<br />
subordinated to actuality. This illusion is reinforced by the wide range of arbitrary<br />
designations which fill externality with space, time, direction, objects, and events.<br />
To the extent that philosophy and theology are elaborated within ordinary<br />
language usage they faithfully reproduce this illusion. Thus they investigate space,<br />
time, objects, god, history, sin, grace, and death as though they were objects<br />
distinct from the words articulated. However, it does not take long for<br />
philosophers and theologians to press beyond the illusion of practical language.<br />
This moment occurs when they seek to get beyond equivalent meaning; when<br />
circular definitions are no longer suffic<strong>ie</strong>nt, or when reference to actuality is<br />
inadequate. But they do not always realise that they are pursuing meaning itself;<br />
they are more likely to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve they are referring to refined objects, be they god,<br />
matter, goodness, perception, etc. In a sense, philosophers and theologians are<br />
willing to transcend actuality, but not the myths of being and existence. It could he<br />
said that good arguments can be given for this refinement of reference, but it is to<br />
forget that, on one hand, it is language, not actuality, which makes this refinement<br />
possible, while on the other they still assume that reference is primary. To say that<br />
‗God is eternal‘ is possible because of language, but it has no actual reference<br />
because of this — a refined reference to a non-actual being-ness must he asserted.<br />
This is not to say that the statement ‗God is eternal‘ is therefore not true.<br />
Actuality can neither prove nor disprove a statement: this can be done only by<br />
means of other statements, that is, in human communication. But the statement<br />
nonetheless is meaningful: there is a set of equivalent statements to which it<br />
belongs, and the identity or free meaning of this set can he grasped. But that is all.<br />
The actual existence of God cannot be formulated in language: the statement ‗God<br />
is‘ is, as in all attempts to assert existence, incomplete, of the form ‗The god =‗: it<br />
attempts to make a unique statement, where in fact it is an incomplete equation.<br />
Of course, the statement could be used in a practical manner; after all, practical<br />
designations are arbitrary and a matter of convention.<br />
In this way, by ignoring the limitation of meaning, that in signification it is<br />
always equivalent meaning, and because of the utter plasticity of practical<br />
340
designations of externality, philosophy and theology remain trapped at the level of<br />
ordinary language. Even where the presence of free meaning is grasped, the<br />
investigations remain at this level. An example of this is Frege‘s attempt to<br />
explain what meaning is.<br />
The underlying assumptions which guide Frege‘s thought can be detailed<br />
as follows:<br />
1. Meaningful statements possess an objective conceptual content.<br />
2. That content is only inadequately represented in ordinary language.<br />
3. It is possible to design a system of notation in which the conceptual content of<br />
any statement can be given ah adequate and clear expression.<br />
It is clear that (3) is not possible, for such adequate and clear expression<br />
would remain at the level of equivalence, and so would convey meaning in the<br />
same way as all other statements in ordinary language equivalent to it. This fact,<br />
which was acknowledged by Frege himself, for other reasons, had an important<br />
consequence for his thought. It meant that his philosophy could not ach<strong>ie</strong>ve the<br />
definiteness of logical analysis, but had to remain an epistemology. However, the<br />
first two parts of his programme are concerned with the nature of knowledge, with<br />
the characteristics of meaning and with how meaning is perceived.<br />
Frege says in effect that meaning possesses an objective conceptual<br />
content. By objectivity he means the complete thought which is independent of<br />
sensation, intuition and memory, but not independent of Reason. Furthermore,<br />
while thought is the same for all human beings — it can be communicated — it is<br />
independent of them: in thinking, we do not create thoughts, we grasp them.<br />
Finally, the objective thought is to be distinguished from the actual or real.<br />
Meaning is perceived in the act of judgment, which is the recognition that<br />
something is true. Judgment is the grasping of a complete thought. The grasping<br />
of a thought is at the same time the recognition that it is true. But the complete<br />
thought is objective as well as true, so the moment of the recognition of the true is<br />
also the recognition that the true — the complete, objective thought — is<br />
independent of the recognition of its truth.<br />
Thought, therefore, is independent of everything — sensation, intuition,<br />
memory and judgment — except Reason. Frege says that thoughts are given<br />
immediately to Reason — they are not mediated by the senses, that they are<br />
completely known by Reason, and that they are Reason‘s most characteristic<br />
possession. But what is Reason? As a rationalist, Frege bel<strong>ie</strong>ved that Reason was<br />
an irreducible faculty that furnished certain and indubitable knowledge. As such,<br />
Reason might seem to be a ‗container‘ of thought, a locus or source of thought for<br />
us. But it is not clear that Frege intended such a model of duality. On one hand<br />
thoughts are what they are because of what they have in common: objectivity,<br />
truth and completeness. But they also appear in Reason by virtue of these<br />
characteristics; specifically, thoughts, in being objective, are somehow dependent<br />
upon Reason. On the other hand, it is only because there are thoughts that there is<br />
Reason: Reason does not exist apart from thought; it has no characteristics apart<br />
from those of thought. Thus ‗Reason‘ seems to be no more than a means of<br />
designating the presence of thought, that is, thought‘s objectivity. But objectivity<br />
341
is part of the self-constitution of thought, it is not merely an attribute: therefore<br />
Reason is part of the self-constitution of thought, indistinguishable from thought.<br />
What then is thought? According to Frege, thought is that which is true,<br />
objective, and complete. However, these terms do not define thought, for one can<br />
just as easily say that that which is true can only be thought; that which is<br />
objective can only be thought. Moreover, it is also the case that that which is<br />
objective can only be true, and vice versa. Strictly speaking, then, this group of<br />
terms, thought, truth, objectivity, and completeness, to which can be added the<br />
term, Reason, are metaphors. They are a circle of equivalent terms. And what is<br />
the identity of this circle? It cannot be signif<strong>ie</strong>d; but for the sake of clarification it<br />
can be signif<strong>ie</strong>d by another equivalent term as ‗the meaning of meaning‘.<br />
Frege, then, is here attempting to define free meaning, or identity, itself.<br />
But, under the influence of the tradition of rationalism, he tends to give it an<br />
ontological status rather than acknowledging its purely epistemological character.<br />
This is evident in his elaboration of terms intended as definitions of features of<br />
thought, and by the impl<strong>ie</strong>d duality of his thought-Reason model. It is also evident<br />
in the overall structure of his theory of meaning, for he starts from what is in fact<br />
the conclusion of an investigation of the nature of meaning. As a result, such are<br />
his rationalist assumptions that of the three moments of this investigation, he<br />
ignores the first, the examination of ordinary language itself, misconstrues the<br />
second, the study of the perception of meaning, and attempts to say more about<br />
the third, the nature of meaning itself, than it is possible to say.<br />
Frege‘s misunderstanding of the perception of meaning arises because he<br />
assumes that judgments are concerned solely with the recognition of identity, that<br />
is, he refines the practical nature of judgment. Determined by his account of<br />
thought, Frege turns judgment into an occult faculty capable of recognition but not<br />
of signification. Of course, this is the case where identity is recognised, but<br />
judgment is not concerned solely with recognising the unnameable, Again, the key<br />
feature of judgment for Frege, its power to recognise the true and at the same time<br />
recognise the independence of the true from this recognition, is given an occult<br />
quality, notwithstanding the fact that this is true of all judgments, because<br />
judgment is an action. Action always acts on something which is not reducible to<br />
the action.<br />
But Frege does not present judgment solely as an epistemological<br />
category, concerned with the direct recognition of the true. As such it would<br />
remain necessarily an aspect of thought itself, its own self-recognition, and the<br />
term ‗judgment‘ would become another equivalent term, equivalent to ‗thought‘,<br />
‗Reason‘, etc. Instead, he seeks to escape from this circle by also positing<br />
judgment as a feature of logic. Thus judgment is an assertion as logic is an<br />
assertion. At this level, what is asserted is not the true — for logic cannot<br />
determine truth — but what Frege calls the ‗object‘ of logic. Now, on one hand<br />
this object is in effect the laws of logic, which are in themselves true and<br />
objective. Thus the object, as the laws of logic, is but another equivalent term for<br />
thought, etc, so that logic becomes, from the perspective of epistemology, another<br />
way of signifying the identity of thought. But on the other hand, the object of logic<br />
342
has one exceptional feature — it can be instanced in language. This instancing is<br />
called a ‗proper name‘. According to Frege, it ‗stands for‘ the object.<br />
At this point of transition, the descent from thought-Reason to ordinary<br />
language, it can be noted that the transition appears as a mode of failure. The<br />
failure of judgment is that it merely recognises the true; it is not the source of the<br />
true. Again, the truth which logic asserts of a proposition cannot be signif<strong>ie</strong>d in<br />
the proposition. In language itself, the proper name merely ‗stands for‘ the objectthought,<br />
as something other, a pale shadow.<br />
But even so, the proper name is not a fully linguistic entity. It has<br />
linguistic characteristics: it is a fixed statement, it cannot be a predicate, and it<br />
conveys equivalent meaning. But it also possesses characteristics of thought, in its<br />
specificity and lack of relations. Thus the proper name is a duality, of signification<br />
and meaningfulness. This is true of any linguistic term, but Frege‘s way of<br />
presenting the proper name, in term‘s of descent from pure thought, has the effect<br />
of subordinating signification to meaning as identity. The result is that the status<br />
of the proper name is determined from above, as it were, so that it appears on one<br />
hand as an isolate and on the other in a mode of failure that direct one‘s attention<br />
back up to the object-thought and away from ordinary language.<br />
The inadequacy of the proper name from the perspective of language leads<br />
Frege to posit yet another layer of linguistic moaning, this time the concept.<br />
According to Frege, the concept is neither true nor false, but practical or<br />
impractical. Thus the concept appears at the level of language-use. It relates to the<br />
proper name as the instance of that which cannot be an instance in itself. But<br />
despite the fact that concepts are instances and practical, it is clear that they are<br />
not actual significations. For one thing, concepts cannot be named, thus ‗concept‘<br />
is another equivalent term whose identity is free meaning. Yet Frege does not<br />
intend ‗concept‘ as a synonym of thought. It appears in a mode of failure, this time<br />
of incompleteness, and serves to link pure thought, via the object and the proper<br />
name, to yet another level of language, this time of the function.<br />
It is significant that at this final level Frege, while introducing the notion<br />
of the function, seeks to t<strong>ie</strong> it to the concept, going so far at times to use the terns<br />
interchangeably. Nonetheless, the function has a role distinct from that of the concept.<br />
A function is that which determines the meaning of a statement, as a<br />
function determines the argument in mathematics. The function is an instance<br />
which is signif<strong>ie</strong>d, and which is exhausted in that instancing. Thus the function is<br />
the actual operation of the concept, while the concept is the determining power of<br />
the function. But the function is not identical with the concept. The concept is discerned<br />
in the interchangeability of equivalent functions, but no list of equivalent<br />
functions would convey the sense of the concept.<br />
At last, at the lowest level of Frege‘s h<strong>ie</strong>rarchy, one perceives the presence<br />
of equivalent meaning in ordinary language. Frege has reached it by descent<br />
through levels of failure, but only to the level of meaning alone in ordinary<br />
language. Communication remains for Frege at the level of thought, though<br />
manifestly communication could not occur at that level. If it could, the lower<br />
layers of object, proper name, concept, and function would not be necessary.<br />
343
Practical reference is not discussed; for Frege, reference remains at the level, once<br />
again, of thought. Though not actual, thought is objective and as such the ultimate<br />
referent of signification. But the need for the lower layers of object, etc, once<br />
again, shows that this kind of reference is inadequate, if only because signification<br />
cannot of itself be shown to make reference to thought.<br />
But if one steps back now from Frege‘s theory and examines his use of<br />
language, one sees that he articulates language on the assumption that reference is<br />
primary and communication, that is, the conveyance of meaning, is secondary.<br />
Hence, in grasping that ordinary language incidentally points towards free<br />
meaning — incidental because it is not intrinsic to the practical use of language —<br />
Frege immediately assumed that free meaning was in some way a continuation of<br />
language and therefore also a system of reference. This leads Frege to discover the<br />
referents of free meaning or identity. He does this by refining a number of terms,<br />
by removing ‗truth‘, ‗thought‘, ‗objective‘, ‗reason‘, etc from their practical<br />
contexts, and positing new referents for them. That all these terms behave like<br />
equivalents is no accident. Nor is it an accident that at each new level of descent<br />
from the realm of pure thought, the new terms he presents, object, proper name,<br />
and concept, are no more than new equivalent terms. While he finally<br />
acknowledges, at the lowest level — in order to put a stop to the proliferation of<br />
levels — that free meaning cannot be signif<strong>ie</strong>d, his whole system is in fact an<br />
attempt to name the unnameable, to signify identity or free meaning.<br />
But nonetheless Frege must be credited with having indicated the<br />
existence of free meaning and for having attempted to produce an epistemology of<br />
it. It was perhaps as a counterbalance to the depredations of nineteenth century<br />
positivism and sc<strong>ie</strong>ntism that he went so far over to a logicism and a counteridealism.<br />
Even so, in assuming that reference was primary in language, he was<br />
one with those positivists in finally reducing epistemology to ontology, albeit an<br />
idealist one in contrast to the materialism of his opponents.<br />
Lotty! Are you awake?... For goodness sake, Lotty. It‘s almost six, Will you get<br />
up... Lotty... Lotty. Answer me...<br />
Go away, Dan...<br />
Look, Lotty, they will he coming soon. You can‘t stay in bed... Lotty. Will you<br />
listen to me...<br />
I can hear you.<br />
Will you come downstairs... It‘s almost six. We‘ve made absolutely no<br />
preparations for tonight...<br />
I told you, Dan... Please leave me alone.<br />
What about this party, Lotty?<br />
It‘s not my party, Dan... They are your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds.<br />
They are yours also... Don‘t be absurd now...<br />
I told you I wanted to think about mother...<br />
344
What?... You can‘t be... You‘ve been here for almost twenty-four hours, Lotty.<br />
There can‘t be anything left to think about...<br />
You don‘t understand, Dan... I told you that before... You just don‘t understand,<br />
Oh Lotty, what is it?... I do try to understand you... I know you are very unhappy<br />
because of your mother‘s death... I have tr<strong>ie</strong>d to help you...<br />
You still don‘t understand, Dan... You say I am unhappy... But you say<br />
immediately that you will help me... Why can‘t I help myself, Dan?<br />
I want to give you support, Lotty... To help you help yourself...<br />
Then leave me alone, Dan... I‘m trying to help myself now.<br />
How?<br />
Oh no... You want to take that over too... I‘m doing it here, Dan. All by myself...<br />
Now, please go away...<br />
But the party, Lotty...<br />
It‘s not my party...<br />
Oh Lotty... What will they think?<br />
They can think what they bloody like, Dan!... I want to think about my mother and<br />
I will not let anyone... even your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds... keep me from that... Now please go away...<br />
Please, Dan. I don‘t want us to fight... I‘m not doing this against you... Oh please try to<br />
understand...<br />
I‘m afraid I don‘t... What can keep you in bed thinking for twenty-four hours?...<br />
You haven‘t eaten...<br />
Dan!... Will you stop it... You distract me... Oh look... It will take me hours to get<br />
back... Now go away or I will be angry with you... Go away, Dan... go away...<br />
Lotty... This is a tantrum. You are...<br />
Leave me alone:<br />
No... You are mad at me because I won‘t let you be mother.<br />
Aaaaaaagh<br />
back?<br />
Hello?<br />
Anne?<br />
Dick... How are you?<br />
Fine...<br />
How is your leg?... Your mother said you had hurt it in the mountains.<br />
Oh, it‘s okay now... I told her that...<br />
When are you going back?<br />
In the morning.<br />
You‘ll have to get up early... Sunday morning... Are you looking forward to going<br />
Uh, well...<br />
It‘s where your life is now, I suppose... Did you enjoy your holiday?<br />
It was a break... I didn‘t mean it to he that kind of holiday, you know. I...<br />
You haven‘t heard yet? From the publishers, I mean.<br />
345
No. I haven‘t rung Ang<strong>ie</strong>... I really don‘t know. But they usually take a month or<br />
more.<br />
Well, I hope you have good news... Oh, Maurice was asking about you. You<br />
remember him.<br />
Yes... Who did he ask, you or Jim?<br />
Me... He wasn‘t surprised.<br />
Stoned out like himself.<br />
No. He said you had charisma... He got a bit confused... as usual... I gave him<br />
your two novels to read... He was nervous of them. I think he finds you intimidating.<br />
I suppose he thinks I eat people.<br />
He was very curious about Ang<strong>ie</strong>... Poor boy, he really is afraid of women...<br />
He must have had a bad exper<strong>ie</strong>nce.<br />
I don‘t know. But he told me once that women suck men. He was trying to protect<br />
Jim.<br />
Why?<br />
He wants more of his attention.<br />
Does it bother you?<br />
Not really. Jim wants to help him, that‘s all... A kind of charity... Superfluous<br />
energy.<br />
And you?<br />
Oh I‘ve plenty to do... Jim has gone down to Lombard Street. We‘re going out.<br />
Your mother is coming up to baby-sit.<br />
You can tell him I rang anyway...<br />
Are you going to write about the world state?... Remember?<br />
That?... I don‘t know... Why?<br />
It struck me afterwards... You might find this useful, Dick... You said that in a<br />
world state there would be only one boundary, didn‘t you?<br />
Yes.<br />
Well, it struck me that there is only one boundary anyway.<br />
It would make no difference?<br />
Not to individuals... At least I don‘t think so.<br />
I can see what you mean... Perhaps the advantage of a world boundary would he<br />
that it would not be so limiting. I mean, in comparison with the strictures on personal<br />
boundar<strong>ie</strong>s now.<br />
You might get people to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that. But I‘m not sure there would be any real<br />
difference... I was reared on a farm in Tipperary, Dick. You‘d say that was a narrow<br />
boundary, wouldn‘t you?<br />
Go on.<br />
Well, I think Dublin is even more limiting.<br />
But you don‘t know Dublin, Anne... It‘s not just a question of physical<br />
boundar<strong>ie</strong>s... Dublin... Any city... is less limiting than the country because of how we<br />
relate to people there...<br />
But there are so many people?<br />
346
Exactly. In a small group... like in the country... You know everyone else so well<br />
that they are pretty well mirrors of you. But they mirror you at the level of the basic<br />
routines of living...<br />
That‘s true. What is wrong with that? Isn‘t that what everyone wants, Dick? Isn‘t<br />
that lacking in the city?<br />
No, it isn‘t. A city is just a network of communit<strong>ie</strong>s. Perhaps you haven‘t lived<br />
long enough in Dublin to recognise that, Anne... But the point is this. A city is more than<br />
such a network. In the country you are trapped in the group. In a city you can, if you want<br />
to, escape it.<br />
Why would anyone want to escape it, as you call it?<br />
There remains the individual life, Anne. In the country...<br />
Mister Butler.<br />
Excuse me, Anne... Yes?<br />
Dinner is ready.<br />
I‘ll be down now... Anne?<br />
Dinner?<br />
I‘ve been invited to dinner by the landlady.<br />
You always get taken care of anyway, Dick,<br />
The man of the house d<strong>ie</strong>d a couple of years ago.<br />
Oh.<br />
Will I go on with what I was saying?<br />
You‘re going to say you can do what you like in the city, aren‘t you?<br />
Not what I like. Not in that sense anyway... In the country you can live your<br />
individual life in your imagination only. If it does overflow into your behaviour, you get<br />
marked as an eccentric... a deviant. But in the city you have the chance, if you want it, to<br />
try to realise your individual life.<br />
But that does mean to do what you like.<br />
No, Anne. Only someone trapped in a group would see it like that. That‘s why<br />
individualists... eccentrics... in a group seem so foolish. They are only living out their<br />
imagination.<br />
What else is there?<br />
If you step out of the group you discover something of your own self. Unlike the<br />
eccentric, whose behaviour has no connection with basic living, you attend to the basics<br />
yourself, but in your own way. Instead of your life reflecting the lives of those around<br />
you, everything you do has value because you yourself undertake to do it...<br />
Mister Butler.<br />
Yes, I‘ll come now... Sorry, Anne.<br />
I heard... I don‘t agree with you, Dick. You still do what everyone else does...<br />
Yes. But I‘m not forced by group-pressure to do it their way... for them... There is<br />
more to it than that...<br />
About your imagination, obviously,<br />
In a way. It‘s no longer an instrument of fantasy, where you live out your<br />
individuality as a dream. It becomes a source of knowledge. It can help you grow beyond<br />
the limits of ordinary basic living and its fantas<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
I doubt it, Dick. Look at Maurice...<br />
347
He‘s just trying to get into a group... He wants to dominate a group... Haven‘t you<br />
seen that, Anne? He‘s a fantasist.<br />
He has no confidence in himself.<br />
True. And his solution is to be a superman... I had better go. We must talk about it<br />
again. It is interesting, isn‘t it?<br />
What you say about Maurice... I won‘t keep you from your dinner. Enjoy yourself.<br />
And you and Jim enjoy yourselves tonight.<br />
An association dinner...<br />
Give him my regards. And love to the children... Take care.<br />
You too... Goodbye.<br />
Bye...<br />
Will you sit there, Mister Butler?<br />
Yes... Hello.<br />
This is Deirdre and this is Orla.<br />
Hello... And I‘m Richard.<br />
Mammy says you‘re from London.<br />
Yes.<br />
What do you do there?<br />
Orla!<br />
I only wanted to know!<br />
Well, don‘t be so nosey!<br />
Hush, girls... I expect you‘re not used to children, Mister Butler.<br />
His name is Richard!<br />
Did they get that out of you?... They‘re very inquisitive. It‘s the age...<br />
Mammy! Ask him what he does! Orla!<br />
He‘s a writer, Orla. Isn‘t that right, Mister Butler?<br />
Yes... I write novels, Orla.<br />
What kind of novels? Love stor<strong>ie</strong>s?<br />
That‘s all you read!<br />
Look who‘s talking. Your room is...<br />
Be qu<strong>ie</strong>t, Orla... She‘s only twelve, Mister Butler, but she‘s worse than the other<br />
two... Now, drink your soup. All of you.<br />
Do you write serious books then, Richard?<br />
What do you mean by serious, Sorcha?<br />
The sort we have to read at school... Thomas Hardy.<br />
But that‘s a love story!<br />
Lord of the Fl<strong>ie</strong>s?<br />
Ugh!<br />
Shut up, Orla... Go on, Richard.<br />
Don‘t tell me to shut up! You only want to play up to...<br />
Orla! Be qu<strong>ie</strong>t, will you... Richard won‘t take any notice of you if you carry on<br />
like that... What kind of novels do you write?<br />
It‘s hard to say... I‘ll put it like this, Sorcha. I‘m serious about them, but no one<br />
else seems to he.<br />
Huh?<br />
348
in.<br />
But what are they about?... Orla, take the soup plates out.<br />
Oh all right... But I won‘t take any...<br />
Orla! Do as you are told... Come on, now. You can help me bring the next course<br />
Are they about Dublin?<br />
The first one is...<br />
Go on,<br />
It‘s a kind of biography.<br />
Is it about you?<br />
In a way... But not autobiographical.<br />
What happens?<br />
He discovers his freedom.<br />
You mean he goes to London. Like you?<br />
Not just that, Sorcha... He finds himself.<br />
Oh God...<br />
Shut up, Deirdre. Don‘t you start because Orla‘s not here.<br />
Oh, it‘s boring! Finding himself... Sister Aquina never stops talking about finding<br />
out who we are.<br />
That‘s different, Deirdre. That‘s religion.<br />
So what? It‘s the same boring idea... That‘s not fun... Does he have a girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd,<br />
Richard?<br />
About three or four,<br />
What? Does he have sex with them?<br />
Most of them.<br />
What‘s it...<br />
No... How does...<br />
Stop interfering, Sorcha! It‘s my question!<br />
Let Richard answer, will you, Deirdre!<br />
Of course he does.<br />
Oh! Did you write it?<br />
Love stor<strong>ie</strong>s never tell you anything!<br />
Here we are... Give that one to Richard, Orla.<br />
Thank you, Orla,<br />
And the other one is Sorcha‘s,<br />
Here, pasty face.<br />
Thanks, serving maid.<br />
Fuck off, scrubber.<br />
What did you say, Orla?<br />
Nothing.<br />
What did she say, Sorcha? I‘m sure she used that word again. I won‘t have you at<br />
this table, Orla, if you...<br />
It‘s nothing, mammy. Don‘t go on about it.<br />
What was he talking about, Deirdre?<br />
Ess ee eks.<br />
Oh! Tell me...<br />
349
Later...<br />
Well, eat up now... Do you like your beef rare, Richard?<br />
Yes.<br />
Some of it is well done.<br />
No. Rare will do.<br />
Good... There‘s more goodness in it... Well, did you discover what Richard writes<br />
about, Sorcha?<br />
It‘s existentialism,<br />
What is that, Sorcha?<br />
Isn‘t it, Richard?<br />
You mean Sartre? He said more than he could<br />
Our English teacher is always talking about existentialism.<br />
You mean Gargoyle? He can‘t even get one girl-fr<strong>ie</strong>nd!<br />
That‘s not the point, Deirdre.<br />
What are you girls talking about?... Is it philosophy, Richard?<br />
If he had a girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd he wouldn‘t bother to talk about the problem of existence...<br />
Ha ha... The problem of existence.<br />
Oh, stop it, Deirdre.<br />
Are you marr<strong>ie</strong>d, Richard?<br />
Orla!<br />
No.<br />
Do your characters marry?<br />
No. Come to think of it, they don‘t<br />
Then it‘s not serious stuff. They always marry.<br />
No they don‘t, Orla.<br />
They do... Your stor<strong>ie</strong>s must be love stor<strong>ie</strong>s, Richard. Can I read them?<br />
Orla! You can‘t...<br />
Why not, Sorcha? Is there something wrong with Richard‘s novels?<br />
They‘re not for little girls. She should stick to her comics.<br />
I read what you read!<br />
And I told you before that you are too young for them, Orla.<br />
They‘re easy to read, mammy... Anyway, there‘s nothing in them.<br />
I‘m sorry, Richard. It‘s the age they‘re at. They‘re obsessed with boys and they<br />
won‘t even talk to one.<br />
That‘s because they‘re stupid.<br />
All they want is...<br />
What do you know about it, child?<br />
I‘m not a child! I know as much as you do.<br />
Oh, be qu<strong>ie</strong>t. All of you... Now. Eat your dinner in peace. You‘ll give Richard<br />
indigestion... I‘m sorry, Richard. They take some getting used to, I‘m afraid... Is your<br />
fr<strong>ie</strong>nd calling for you?<br />
Yes, About eight.<br />
Are you going out tonight?<br />
Yes.<br />
You didn‘t tell us, mammy.<br />
350
week.<br />
It was none of your business.<br />
But we want to ask him about his stor<strong>ie</strong>s... You wouldn‘t let us go near him all<br />
He‘s a guest, Sorcha. You can‘t invade his privacy like that.<br />
But we know him now... Are you really leaving here tonight, Richard?<br />
I‘m afraid so.<br />
Oh, it‘s not fair... You knew, mammy... You kept him to yourself...<br />
Orla!<br />
Yes, you did. This is the first time I‘ve been able to speak to him. You and Sorcha<br />
kept him to yourselves.<br />
Orla is right, mammy. You two were fr<strong>ie</strong>nds with him and you made us stay away.<br />
Not you too, Deirdre... We didn‘t, I had to bring him messages from mammy.<br />
We could‘ve done that!<br />
I‘ll send both of you away from the table if you don‘t behave yourselves... Richard<br />
is a guest, I invited him down tonight because there‘s no one else staying and because<br />
he‘d have to eat junk otherwise...<br />
Will you be coming back, Richard?... It‘s not fair, mammy. You wouldn‘t let us<br />
talk to him before. And he is really interesting to talk to... Isn‘t he, Deirdre?<br />
He is, mammy. We want to hear about his stor<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
Should they read your stor<strong>ie</strong>s, Richard?<br />
They might find them dull, Misses MacLane,<br />
Grace... You should call me Grace...<br />
See what I mean!<br />
Stop it, Orla, You‘re going to embarrass Richard. Then he‘ll never come back<br />
again...<br />
Grace...<br />
I was right!<br />
That‘s enough, Orla! Now leave the table...<br />
But, mammy...<br />
Go up to your room!<br />
If Orla goes, I‘ll go too.<br />
Then off you go, Deirdre. The behaviour of both of you is disgraceful...<br />
It‘s not fair... Waaaaah!<br />
Orla. Go up... This minute.<br />
Come on, Orla... We‘ll leave Richard to them... They‘ll eat you alive!<br />
Deirdre! Go if you‘re going!<br />
Good... Now we‘ll have some peace... I‘m sorry about that, Richard. They‘re not<br />
usually so hold. It‘s the excitement, We don‘t usually have visitors.<br />
Perhaps you should call them back?<br />
No. They must be punished if they misbehave... Would you like some more beef,<br />
Richard? You probably won‘t have a decent meal again for ages...<br />
Tell us about your stor<strong>ie</strong>s now, Richard,<br />
No. I‘ve had enough. Thanks. This will keep me going until tomorrow evening.<br />
But the shops will be closed over there?<br />
351
My girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd will have bought food in... She‘s expecting me... Today or<br />
tomorrow...<br />
I see... I didn‘t know that.<br />
You would really have to read them for yourself, Sorcha... Perhaps your library<br />
might have them...<br />
I‘ll get the sweet... Will you clear the plates, Sorcha?<br />
Let me help.<br />
No. You‘re our guest... You sit there...<br />
Come in... Look, try to keep a lid on, will you.<br />
Okay... Deirdre says you write about sex. Is that right?<br />
It would be funny if I didn‘t.<br />
Why?<br />
It‘s as common as having your dinner. Everyone has it.<br />
We don‘t.<br />
You‘re too young... You don‘t have mortgages either. Does that bother you?<br />
Our husbands will have those...<br />
Are you bored with sex already, Richard? Mammy told Sorcha once that she was<br />
bored with it.<br />
Not bored. I‘m used to it... That‘s different.<br />
Still it must be...<br />
What are you two doing down here?<br />
Richard said we could stay if we behaved ourselves,<br />
Mammy, Orla and Deirdre have come down again...<br />
Richard says we can stay!<br />
I told you two to go to your rooms.<br />
Richard said...<br />
They‘ve promised to behave...<br />
Well... So long as you behave... Orla, help Sorcha bring in the other sweets.<br />
Okay...<br />
You seem to have some influence over her, Richard,<br />
That‘s because he‘s a man...<br />
Don‘t you start now, Sorcha...<br />
I think they‘ve got over the excitement... Isn‘t that right, Deirdre?<br />
Yes... We‘re going to be real good... isn‘t that right, Orla?<br />
Yeah. Real good.<br />
Ha...<br />
It‘s a television programme, Richard... There‘s this little guy who keeps promising<br />
he‘s going to be real good.<br />
And he never is?<br />
No...<br />
The more good he tr<strong>ie</strong>s to be the more trouble he causes.<br />
I can bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it.<br />
Would you like tea or coffee, Richard?<br />
Coffee.<br />
I‘ll make it!<br />
352
Orla, don‘t...<br />
Please, mammy. You know I like doing it,<br />
Oh very well,<br />
Do you want it strong, Richard?... Make your eyes pop out.<br />
High as a kite... Wheee!<br />
Suborbital... I have to perform tonight.<br />
A party! Are you going to a party?<br />
Yes,<br />
Oh, I‘ll make it strong then... No?... It‘s not that kind of party?<br />
Fraid not.<br />
Just enough to keep you alert then?<br />
Yep.<br />
Go through the motions, Richard? Yakety-yak.<br />
That‘s it.<br />
Poor you.<br />
When we get older, Richard, we‘ll give you a real party.<br />
Stop shouting from the kitchen, Orla.<br />
And you can fly, Richard... Know what I mean?... flyyyy!... Commme flyyyy with<br />
meeeee!<br />
Orla! You‘re giving me a headache,<br />
Sorry, mammy...<br />
Do you have a lot of fr<strong>ie</strong>nds in Dublin, Richard?<br />
Not many now. You lose touch... They‘re fr<strong>ie</strong>nds of a fr<strong>ie</strong>nd. They‘re celebrating<br />
the birth of a son.<br />
Are they marr<strong>ie</strong>d, Richard?<br />
Yes.<br />
Are all your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds marr<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
No.<br />
Are the others swingers, Richard?<br />
Where do you get these words from, Orla?<br />
Television, mammy... We learn everything there... Except...<br />
Ha ha ha ha!<br />
Deirdre!<br />
Coffee‘ll be ready soon... Chocolate biscuits, Richard? They go really well with<br />
strong coffee.<br />
I hope it‘s not too strong, Orla, You knew I don‘t like it strong...<br />
Richard does... Don‘t you, Richard?<br />
Nudge, nudge.<br />
Hee hee... Nudge nudge...<br />
Let‘s go into the front room... Do you have time, Richard?<br />
Yes... Sure...<br />
I hope you‘re not taking too much notice of them, Richard... Their father used to<br />
call them the terrible twins... Put the heater on, Sorcha, It‘s cool tonight... Deirdre!<br />
Yes, mammy!<br />
Bring the things on a tray.<br />
353
And the chocolate biscuits, mammy?<br />
Yes. Bring them too.<br />
Goodeeee!<br />
Will I play some music, mammy?<br />
Yes... What kind of music do you like, Richard?<br />
Whatever you like.<br />
Now, not too noisy, Sorcha.<br />
Do you like pop music?<br />
Orla! Sorcha‘s going to play her song!<br />
No!... Sorcha! Don‘t play that... Richard, do you like the Rolling Stones?<br />
Not him!<br />
Do, Orla.<br />
We‘ll take a vote on it... All those in favour of the Stones... One, two, three.<br />
There! Put it on, Sorcha.<br />
Mammy?<br />
They voted, Sorcha... Richard voted for it... Is the coffee ready, Orla?<br />
Oh yes! Real strong... Here... That‘s... This is yours, Richard... Mammy... Deirdre,<br />
put some water in mammy‘s...<br />
Do you want cream, Richard?<br />
No. The milk will do.<br />
Have a biscuit... Go on...<br />
Thanks.<br />
Isn‘t he absolutely marvellous, Richard?<br />
Do you like that kind of music, Richard?<br />
Yes...<br />
Do you dance, Richard?<br />
No... Orla, Sit down, You‘ll break something...<br />
This is great... Isn‘t it, Deirdre?<br />
Ooh... Yessss!<br />
Come over, Sorcha... Have your coffee.<br />
I don‘t want coffee.<br />
Oh Sorcha... Don‘t...<br />
Richard! Tell us the most exciting thing that has happened to you...<br />
Oh do!<br />
A lot of things must have happened to you...<br />
I bet it‘s exciting being a writer...<br />
Mammy said you were nearly killed up in the mountains...<br />
Yes, what happened?<br />
I slipped... That‘s all.<br />
Is your knee better?<br />
Yes...<br />
Tell us then, Richard... The most absolutely exciting thing.<br />
Well... I got lost in Paris?<br />
What happened?<br />
354
I couldn‘t find my hotel, I didn‘t have the address. It was in a side street near the<br />
Luxembourg Gardens.<br />
And what did you do?<br />
It was summer... I walked the streets all night...<br />
Did you sleep under a bridge?<br />
No, I walked all over south Paris. Up and down all sorts of streets...<br />
On you own?<br />
Yes.<br />
Was it mysterious?<br />
Yes. Every street had a different mood. There was a full moon... It was magical,<br />
really.<br />
Oh I can feel it.<br />
So can I... Do you like that, Sorcha?... Mammy?<br />
Did you live in Paris?<br />
It was a longish holiday, really.<br />
They say it‘s very exciting.<br />
It‘s very beautiful.<br />
Richard! You fell in love with a girl there.<br />
No. Not...<br />
Are you in love with anyone now?<br />
Orla!<br />
He has a girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd.<br />
Have you?... Are you in love with her?<br />
Not really... But she is my best fr<strong>ie</strong>nd.<br />
And you‘re not in love at all?<br />
Fraid not, Deirdre.<br />
You‘re not marr<strong>ie</strong>d... How can you not be in love?<br />
That‘s enough, Orla... You shouldn‘t be so personal.<br />
But I want to know all about Richard, Mammy... I do.<br />
The door!... Is this your fr<strong>ie</strong>nd?<br />
I think so.<br />
Answer it, Orla.<br />
No. You do it, Sorcha.<br />
You‘re afraid.<br />
You can talk to Richard‘s fr<strong>ie</strong>nd, I‘d rather talk to Richard.<br />
Go out, Sorcha... Don‘t keep him waiting on the doorstep... And ask him to come<br />
in here.<br />
Do you have to go now, Richard?<br />
Pretty soon.<br />
Will you come again?... I mean when you‘re in Dublin again...<br />
We can have a real party then. Won‘t we, Orla?<br />
And you could invite some of your fr<strong>ie</strong>nds...<br />
There you are, Dick.<br />
Ah Tony... Hi... Misses MacLane... This is Tony Hackett.<br />
Hello, Mister Hackett.<br />
355
Hello, Misses MacLane.<br />
And this is Orla,<br />
Hi!<br />
Hello.<br />
And Deirdre,<br />
Hello?<br />
Hello.<br />
And beside you is Sorcha, who let you in.<br />
Hello, Sorcha.<br />
Hello... Tony.<br />
Coffee! Would you like some coffee, Tony?<br />
Well... Orla.<br />
There is time?<br />
Sure... Yes, I‘d love some coffee.<br />
And a chocolate biscuit?<br />
Help yourself, Tony... Here... Do you want cream or milk?<br />
Milk, please... Thanks... Well?<br />
Isn‘t the weather awful, Mister Hackett?<br />
It‘s dreadful... Dick hasn‘t had much of a holiday, has he?<br />
No. He chose a bad time to come over...<br />
Can I write to you, Richard?<br />
Mmm?<br />
Your address is in the guest book... In Epsom, Surrey?<br />
What will you write about?<br />
I‘ll write you stor<strong>ie</strong>s...<br />
You go to Muckross... in Marlborough Road... don‘t you?<br />
How did you know?<br />
I‘ve just remembered... I‘ve seen you... The three of you together in the morning...<br />
In Ranelagh.<br />
Were you going to work?<br />
Yes... I recognised Sorcha... That‘s right?<br />
Did you hear that, mammy? Tony sees us going to school in the mornings.<br />
Do you live over there, Mister Hackett?<br />
Up in Goatstown. I usually drive down that way... I must remember to wave to<br />
you the next time.<br />
Not till September.<br />
Ooooh, don‘t mention it!<br />
In September, then... Thanks for the coffee, Misses MacLane. It was grand.<br />
Put him in gear.<br />
Does Tony have to perform too tonight?<br />
I don‘t know, Orla... Perhaps not.<br />
We should be pushing along, Dick.<br />
Okay... I‘ll get my bag.<br />
I‘ll get it for you, Richard! It‘s in your room.<br />
I want to make sure I have everything.<br />
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Orla! Let Richard get his bag.<br />
Okay, mammy... What sort of party are you going to, Tony?<br />
Just a party party...<br />
What‘s that?<br />
Not the sort of party you‘d like. Talk talk.<br />
And Richard loves the Stones!... Here he comes... Come on, mammy, let‘s see<br />
him to the car...<br />
Got everything?<br />
Yes. Just this ruck, I‘ll stick it in the hoot... Goodbye, Misses MacLane... Sorcha,<br />
Deirdre... Orla.<br />
Goodbye, Mister Hackett. Take care on the roads... Especially tonight...<br />
Well, thanks for everything, Misses... Grace... You have been very kind...<br />
If you ever want to come again. Just ring...<br />
I‘ll do that... Goodbye, Sorcha... Good luck...<br />
Goodbye.<br />
Deirdre...<br />
Bye, Richard... Come and see us, won‘t you?<br />
Yes, I will... Orla...<br />
Go on, Richard. Your fr<strong>ie</strong>nd is waiting,<br />
Be good now.<br />
Be good yourself.<br />
Bye...<br />
Come in now, girls. It‘s chilly... Goodbye, Richard...<br />
Goodbye...<br />
Orla... Close the door now.<br />
Oh... Orla!...<br />
What?<br />
This... It‘s a cheque. In sterling... I forgot to give it to your mother. She said it<br />
would...<br />
Give me a little kiss, Richard... Oh... You are lovely... I will write to you.<br />
Do.<br />
And can I love you?<br />
For a while... Oh, you‘ll see... Here...<br />
Oh Richard... Go on now. Tony‘s waiting... I‘m going to cry...<br />
Take care of everyone, won‘t you?<br />
And you take care of yourself... Bye, Tony!<br />
Orla! Will you come in and let Richard go.<br />
Hang on, Dick...<br />
What‘s wrong with you?<br />
Snada... Getting in gear... Jesus, what were you up to in there?<br />
Nothing. It‘s all in your mind...<br />
But the whole lot of them... Where‘s the husband?<br />
Dead... About two years ago... Cancer,<br />
Ah... Gotcha... New father?<br />
Something like that... They are lonely.<br />
357
The little one really has it for you... Well?... Say something...<br />
It‘s actually been a good holiday...<br />
Hey. It‘s not over yet... Or is it?<br />
What do you think?<br />
Dick... No, hold on, I‘ll stop the car for a moment... Look...<br />
What‘s wrong?<br />
I‘m in a hit of a tizzy. Let me calm down... That family... Do you know who that<br />
young one reminds me of?<br />
Catherine.<br />
Bang on... God, it took me back... Catherine was just like that...<br />
I can imagine.<br />
But it cut across something else... I had better get it off my chest... You remember<br />
the MacShane guy?<br />
Yes, The northern chap.<br />
That‘s right... He rang me this afternoon... I don‘t know what he‘s up to... But,<br />
look, Dick, he told me that they‘re going to get someone in Donnybrook.<br />
Who are?<br />
The provos.<br />
Why did he tell you?<br />
He‘s informing again... But what frightens me is the fact that he told me.<br />
Why?<br />
He might mean Dan... You remember him?<br />
Yes, it‘s his party tonight... But why him?<br />
MacShane has it in for him... God, this is a mess...<br />
But why him?<br />
Dan is in a position to force Ireland into a military alliance with the West.<br />
You‘re joking,<br />
I‘m not... He‘s noticed a strange pattern of jet trails... He thinks Russia is trying<br />
to establish access corridors and that the West is trying to stop her.<br />
And you think the provos want to shoot him because of that?<br />
There are ramifications now... British intelligence anyway.<br />
What are you going to do?<br />
I‘m not sure... I told you so you would understand my mood... That family cut<br />
right across it.<br />
Yes. I understand... Perhaps it‘s not Dan... You ought to check... I assume you<br />
can.<br />
Maybe... I can‘t decide whether to warn Dan or not.<br />
You should check first... You can always ring him.<br />
Yes.<br />
But why hasn‘t it become public by now? You ought to know.<br />
It‘s not general knowledge.<br />
Is it true?<br />
Nobody is saying.<br />
Sounds a bit paranoid.<br />
358
Doesn‘t it?... But there are ramifications already... Rumours... Dan wants to talk<br />
to some journalists.<br />
What have you to do with it?<br />
I offered to put him in contact with a couple.<br />
And you had to tell them something?<br />
Yes... Anyway, you‘re right, I‘ll make some enquir<strong>ie</strong>s first... Let‘s go... Sorry if<br />
I‘ve spoiled your evening.<br />
You didn‘t... But listen... Why don‘t you get in touch with air traffic control. See<br />
what they have to say.<br />
What? Are you serious?<br />
Yes... Why not? They should know about the flights.<br />
You don‘t expect them to say so, do you? They‘d probably say they were charter<br />
flights to Spain or something.<br />
Perhaps they are.<br />
Christ!... Look, Dick, don‘t say anything about this, will you.<br />
Why not?... If it comes up...<br />
Dan is going to make a systematic check for himself... Let him do that first... It‘s<br />
in here. Of course, you haven‘t been in here before.<br />
No.<br />
His wife has the most beautiful mouth I have ever seen on any human being, man<br />
or woman... Truly angelic... She‘ll be a bit stiff at first. But give it a chance, okay?<br />
I know what you mean.<br />
Good... Try to ignore Magg<strong>ie</strong> MacMahon. She‘ll be all over you because you are<br />
an Artist... She‘s a pain.<br />
Let me judge for myself, Tony.<br />
Sure... It‘ll be all classical music... No Rolling Stones... But you won‘t mind that<br />
of course... No bike... Good. She‘s not here yet... Right. Come on... I‘ll leave your ruck in<br />
the boot,<br />
Sure... Very secluded... The square... The trees.<br />
You wouldn‘t know it existed unless you were shown it... His mother‘s people<br />
lived here for over a hundred years... It‘s very dated, isn‘t it?<br />
Regency... Reminds me of the back streets of Epsom.<br />
Don‘t tell Dan that... Hi. We‘ve come.<br />
Tony... And Richard... Nice to see you again... Come in.<br />
Yes. And you too,<br />
We‘re the first?<br />
Yes... Come in here... Lotty is not well, I‘m afraid. She‘s been in bed all day...<br />
Mmm.<br />
Is this the heir?<br />
Yes... Brian... The aftershock, I think. It‘s only beginning to hit her now.<br />
Poor Charley. It was hard luck,<br />
Yes... Will you have a drink? Richard?<br />
Yes.<br />
What would you like?<br />
Whatever you two are having.<br />
359
Tony? Gin?<br />
Good idea. Settle us down.<br />
Richard?<br />
Yes... Sure.<br />
Won‘t you sit down?... I‘ll lower the music... It doesn‘t disturb you?<br />
No... Bach?<br />
Yes. Do you like Bach?<br />
Yes...<br />
It‘s hard to say who he looks like yet.<br />
I think he‘s like Lotty...<br />
Have you been looking after him?<br />
Yes... It‘s not that difficult.<br />
He‘s smiling at you... He certainly doesn‘t mind.<br />
I‘ve done it before now... He‘s used to me... Here you are, Richard... Ice and<br />
lemon?... Measure tonic for yourself... Tony...<br />
Thanks.<br />
Will we toast the baby?<br />
Why not?<br />
Here, good health and long life... Ah! I needed that.<br />
Are you having a pleasant holiday, Richard?... The weather is disappointing.<br />
Better than I expected... It was just a break really...<br />
He had the people in the guest house doting on him... surrounded by the mother<br />
and three daughters when I got there this evening... Youngest absolutely ape over him...<br />
What age is she, Dick? About twelve or thirteen?<br />
About that... They lost their father about two years ago, you see. I‘d say they miss<br />
him.<br />
They were trying to recruit Dick.<br />
It‘s understandable... Having your company, I mean.<br />
They were very kind, There were no other guests...<br />
Ah, That was good... Guest houses... and hotels... are usually very impersonal...<br />
Don‘t you agree?<br />
Yes. But the isolation can be useful...<br />
Mmm...<br />
How is the paper going, Dan? Nearly finished yet?<br />
Oh that... I‘m almost finished this part...<br />
Dan is preparing a lecture on truth... You‘re giving it in College... In October?<br />
Yes... It‘s on politics and language, actually...<br />
But you said it was about truth, remember? You talked about truth and faith.<br />
It‘s not finished yet, Tony... It‘s hard to say... Ah... Excuse me... The door.<br />
Fasten your safety belt, Dick...<br />
... rising to the occasion, especially in such... Hello... Ah Mister Hackett... Tony...<br />
Paul... Hello... And.<br />
Paul, this is Richard Butler, a fr<strong>ie</strong>nd of Tony‘s. He‘s over from London on a<br />
holiday... This is Paul Clarke, the local minister... Cee of eye... and his girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd, Eithne<br />
Cusack...<br />
360
Hello...<br />
We‘re very pleased to meet you, Richard...<br />
Eithne... This is Tony Hackett, an old fr<strong>ie</strong>nd from college.<br />
Hello.<br />
Hello.<br />
A drink? Eithne? Paul?<br />
Some sherry, perhaps... Dry... Disappointing weather for your holiday, Richard?...<br />
Still, you will have the benefit of the rest...<br />
Here you are... I‘ll refill you, Richard... What about you, Tony?<br />
Sure... Here, I‘ll help you.<br />
It‘s much the same in London.<br />
Perhaps you should have gone to the South of France or Italy... Chase the sun,...<br />
Ah, Excellent sherry, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l.<br />
Good... Here, Richard. Do you have tonic?<br />
Yes...<br />
Eithne and I are going to Ravenna in September... Byzantium fascinates me...<br />
Perhaps you know, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... and you, Tony... As historians... It had the most unfortunate<br />
history. We Christians of the West treated it very shabbily... But a stupendous culture...<br />
Origins in Classical Greece... To have allowed the City fall into the hands of the Turks...<br />
Are you interested in history, Richard?<br />
I used to be...<br />
What did you study?<br />
I didn‘t go to university...<br />
Oh...<br />
Dick is a novelist, Paul.<br />
Published?<br />
Yes... Two works... You‘ve just completed your third, haven‘t you, Dick?<br />
Yes...<br />
It‘s with the publishers.<br />
What do you write about?... Are they modern?<br />
How do you mean?<br />
Realism... Streams of consciousness... You know...<br />
They are fairly conventional...<br />
Actually. If I remember rightly, Dick, this last work of yours is set in anc<strong>ie</strong>nt<br />
Ireland. Isn‘t that so?<br />
Yes.<br />
The Celts? That is very interesting. There is such an air of mystery around them...<br />
Their religious bel<strong>ie</strong>fs... Pythagoras was influenced by them, I bel<strong>ie</strong>ve... Ah, is that the<br />
doorbell, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?<br />
Yes... Excuse me.<br />
This will be Maire, I expect... You like writing?... Obviously... It‘s so satisfying...<br />
The little I do...<br />
... well you should... Hello, Paul... Eithne! How are you? I haven‘t seen you in<br />
ages. You look very well... And Tony...<br />
Maire... This is Richard Butler...<br />
361
The writer?<br />
It is he...<br />
Hello.<br />
Maire MacMahon... And this is... Elizabeth Hungen... Elizabeth... This is Tony<br />
Hackett...<br />
Hello...<br />
Hi...<br />
Paul Clarke and Eithne Cusack...<br />
Nice to meet you...<br />
We‘re pleased to meet you, Elizabeth...<br />
What would you like, Elizabeth?... Maire?<br />
You haven‘t opened any wine?<br />
I‘ll get a bottle now... The P<strong>ie</strong>sporter?<br />
Lovely.<br />
Elizabeth?<br />
Is that gin?<br />
I‘ll fix it, Dan... Ice and lemon?<br />
Sure.<br />
Excuse me...<br />
Well, I often thought to myself that Tony must have one fr<strong>ie</strong>nd in the world. How<br />
do you put up with him, Richard?<br />
By not seeing him too often... The traditional solution.<br />
Familiarity does breed contempt... Doesn‘t it, Maire?<br />
You are an American, Elizabeth? Are you studying here?<br />
Doing research with... Dan.<br />
Here you are, Maire... Does anybody want some wine?... No?... I‘ll leave it over<br />
here, Maire.<br />
Thanks, Dan, I didn‘t know you knew each other.<br />
We research students stick together, Dan... And I hear all about you... Read read<br />
read. Write write write.<br />
What else is research?<br />
Sure is...<br />
Why did you choose Dublin, Elizabeth?<br />
A fr<strong>ie</strong>nd had planned on coming, so I came along...<br />
Do you like it?... Other than the dreadful weather, I mean.<br />
It‘s fine, Paul. Takes a while to settle in.<br />
Oh Dan... I brought this for Brian... Oh there he is...<br />
Did you do the embroidery?<br />
Yes.<br />
It‘s quite intricate... What kind of pattern is it?<br />
Baroque. I had to simplify it, of course,<br />
It must have taken a long time... Thank you very much, Maire... Lotty will be<br />
thrilled... Oh, I‘m afraid she‘s not well... Shock...<br />
It was too soon, Dan,<br />
We had planned it, Maire,<br />
362
Can I go up?<br />
She‘s asleep. Best not disturb her... But I‘ll check later.<br />
Is there anything I can do to help, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l? I‘d be only to glad to, you know.<br />
Thanks, Paul. Perhaps rest is the best at the moment... Now. What will I play?<br />
Does anyone have a strong preference?<br />
Perhaps some Haydn, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l?<br />
Maire? What about you, Elizabeth?... Richard?<br />
The Rolling Stones... Ha... I‘m afraid Dick was treated to the Stones earl<strong>ie</strong>r...<br />
Trust you to like that kind of... Perhaps something more lively, Dan... The<br />
Scarlatti?<br />
Yes, Good idea... Elizabeth?<br />
Hey, I‘m easy.<br />
Richard?<br />
Harpsichord?... Sure.<br />
Why yes... Good. I‘ll put that on... Tony, will you see to the drinks?<br />
Sure...<br />
Can I hold Brian, Dan?<br />
Yes... Is he awake?<br />
Wide awake... And kicking... Come to Maire... Oh...<br />
He must remember you... No. Hold him in. Let him l<strong>ie</strong> against you... That‘s it.<br />
Lost vocation, Maire?<br />
Tony... Have some more sherry, Paul... Eithne.<br />
Eh... Well perhaps just another glass, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l.<br />
He‘s so alert, Dan... He must take after you...<br />
Your indubitable charms, Maire... What do you think, Dick?<br />
We must arrange the Christening, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... It must be six weeks now, no?<br />
We haven‘t discussed it yet, Paul,<br />
Oh when you have decided on a day, let me know... It will be a joyous occasion.<br />
He will be filled with the Spirit, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l...<br />
Do you want some more gin, Richard... Tony should have...<br />
He‘s taking his time with that one...<br />
You‘re very abstemious, Richard, I thought writers were great drinkers... Irish<br />
writers especially.<br />
He has an early start tomorrow... Going back to London.<br />
So soon?<br />
And I wanted to hear about your writing.<br />
It‘s set in Celtic Ireland, Maire... Isn‘t that fascinating?... Do you conceive of<br />
yourself as continuing the work of the Celtic Renaissance, Richard?... Do you like Yeats?<br />
Tell us about it, Richard...<br />
He‘s tiring you, Maire... He‘s heav<strong>ie</strong>r than you first think...<br />
Would someone else like to hold him? It‘s a shame to leave him lying all alone...<br />
Elizabeth?<br />
Dick likes children. Don‘t you? And children like him...<br />
Richard?... Good... He‘s dry, Don‘t worry...<br />
No. Let him kick. He always does that at first, Richard. He‘ll settle down...<br />
363
Children have the remarkable power to make one tender...<br />
Their saving power, Maire?<br />
Oooh!<br />
Ha!... No. They invite trust... because they are vulnerable,<br />
Yes, that‘s it... You put it so well, Richard,<br />
Look, he misses his mother...<br />
Tony! Will you kindly keep your remarks to yourself...<br />
Poor Maire... Are you jealous?<br />
You are so snide!<br />
What‘s wrong with the truth, Magg<strong>ie</strong>? Are you ashamed of it?... Get yourself a<br />
husband.<br />
Oh!...<br />
There is no call to he uncivil, Tony. Maire doesn‘t need your advice...<br />
She‘s making a fool of herself, Paul. I‘m being charitable.<br />
Now you are being cynical... Such a pity...<br />
Charity begins at home, in any case... They‘ve been at this for years, Paul.<br />
But there is no call for him to upset Maire, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... Is there not enough sorrow in<br />
this house?<br />
They‘ll do it anyway... Richard... Will you tell them about your novel... It‘s about<br />
life and death.<br />
Oh do, Richard...<br />
Yes. It sounds very interesting, Richard.<br />
Well... The plot is simple. An invading force trap the king of Ireland in a hostel,<br />
They try to burn the place down, but each time the fire is doused. But the king runs out of<br />
water and d<strong>ie</strong>s of thirst... .That‘s the tale itself...<br />
Ah... Celtic irony?... It‘s not a story that would have attracted Yeats, is it?...<br />
Unless it is about water. Is it a riddle about water?<br />
No. It‘s fire and water... Life and death... Richard told Tony and I about it the<br />
other night... He tr<strong>ie</strong>d to work out whether fire represents life or death...<br />
The fire, is it?<br />
Not alone, It is also the question of what water represents... Do you want to<br />
explain it again, Richard?... For Paul, anyway.<br />
Sure... It‘s also a tale about how the king entered the afterworld, you see. He<br />
encounters a number of omens, all of which are coloured red... That is fire... But at the<br />
same time the king survives attempts to kill him by burning, Yet the water that saved him<br />
is also the cause of his death.<br />
And this is what you discuss in your work?<br />
No. It‘s a novel. Other characters do... No. They don‘t discuss it as such...<br />
So the tale is not the plot, Richard?<br />
No.<br />
Tell us the plot, Richard... I for one am curious.<br />
Okay?... It‘s set in the sixth century, in Connaught. Three travellers are taking the<br />
hospitality of a ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain of a people called the Fiachrach. One is a storyteller, who is<br />
doing the rounds. Another is a cleric on his way to Cashel for a synod. And the third is an<br />
anchorite on his way to a hermitage in the mountains in the west... The king is unhappy.<br />
364
He explains that his people are threatened with enslavement by an invading Gaelic people<br />
called the Briuin. He asks the storyteller to cheer him up with a tale... But the storyteller<br />
is a member of a tribe called the Gailenga, who, ironically, had been subordinated by the<br />
king‘s ancestors several hundred years before. He tells the king that instead of merely<br />
diverting him, he will show him the solution to his troubles... He tells him the tale of the<br />
hostel, which tells how the storyteller‘s ancestors had invaded Ireland and overthrown its<br />
king... The king of course sees the moral and fatalistically accepts his fate. But the cleric<br />
now attacks this fatalism. Naturally, he is not concerned with the political realit<strong>ie</strong>s, but<br />
with the bel<strong>ie</strong>fs expressed in the tale. He begins by accusing the storyteller of preaching<br />
paganism. The storyteller protests that he is only a man of memory, who cannot reflect on<br />
his stor<strong>ie</strong>s. His function is to memorise the old tales, he has no control over their contents,<br />
and, when called upon, to empty his memory of them... As you can see, the storyteller<br />
holds knowledge in the tension of his memory. He cannot reflect on what he knows. He<br />
can only repeat it, his knowledge exists only as pure memory. The cleric, on the other<br />
hand, is the man of the book, whose knowledge is stored in writing. The book is a<br />
control, and the cleric reflects on the tale by reference to that control, that is, by reference<br />
to a doctrine which is reflective and so transcendent in comparison with the immediacy of<br />
memory... The ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain is drawn into this argument. At first, he defends the storyteller,<br />
because he identif<strong>ie</strong>s with the king in the tale. In this defence, the tale appears as a ritual<br />
in which the ambiguit<strong>ie</strong>s of the symbols are reconciled by the total submission of the king<br />
to his fate. But in response to the cleric‘s attack, the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain is forced on to the<br />
defensive. The emphasis moves from ritual activity to justification. The ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain is<br />
forced to question the bel<strong>ie</strong>fs implicit in the tale. The cleric of course cannot test the<br />
symbolism, for fire and water are equally ambiguous in Christianity... Men are saved by<br />
water and destroyed by water, saved by fire and condemned to fire, Instead, he seeks to<br />
reconcile this ambiguity at the level of divinity rather than of man. So he presses the<br />
ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain to admit that the Red God is not the pagan De Derga, but Christ, whom he calls<br />
the Man of Wounds, the man who takes on the burden of death rather than the bringer of<br />
death... But this puts the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain in a new bind. It the god brings redemption, then how<br />
is he to accept his political fate? In the pagan interpretation both god and political reality<br />
are united in bringing about his death, while in the Christian version there is an<br />
intolerable divergence, between political destruction and spiritual redemption...<br />
Oh Richard, how subtle!... Yes, I can see now why you consider the imagery of<br />
fire and water ambiguous... Of course...<br />
Wait, Paul, Richard hasn‘t finished yet... There is the question of why the<br />
ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain should continue to play his political role... The anchorite, Richard. What about<br />
the anchorite?<br />
Well, the anchorite is of course the man of spontaneity, and at this point he<br />
interrupts to remind the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain that he will d<strong>ie</strong> anyway, because death is the one certain<br />
thing in the lives or men... The cleric shuts up immediately because he, having made his<br />
doctrinal point, sees that the anchorite‘s argument will serve his own end too. The<br />
anchorite goes on to explain to the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain that the only meaningful event in the tale is<br />
the death of the king, because it is the only truth in it. But, he points out, this death is not<br />
a political event. It is not the death of a king, but the death of a man. He tells the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain<br />
to ignore the political message of the tale... of the inevitable cycle of conquest and<br />
365
enslavement... and the religious bel<strong>ie</strong>fs, pagan or Christian, which only justify asserted<br />
doctrines. He should instead concentrate on the inward exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of the king as reported<br />
in the tale... As might be expected, the cleric tr<strong>ie</strong>s to intervene here, but the anchorite<br />
ignores him. The ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain this time cannot he swayed from one interpretation to another,<br />
because the anchorite is not trying to give him an alternative bel<strong>ie</strong>f in competition with<br />
the cleric, but is trying to teach him something about his own exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... You see, the<br />
storyteller informs, he transmits knowledge directly from one memory to another<br />
memory. Here the ritual of the tale is complemented by the ritual of the telling.<br />
Knowledge is performative, intended to assuage man‘s fear in the face of the inevitable.<br />
The cleric censors. He imposes meaning on knowledge by means of a doctrine that is<br />
transcendent, that is, it is reflected knowledge, not reported knowledge. It is committed to<br />
writing because, as the asserted meaning of all other knowledge, it must be fixed. But the<br />
anchorite teaches. He attempts to get beyond words. He is concerned with action rather<br />
than knowledge. For him, knowledge is our attempts to answer questions which arise<br />
from our exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of living. But, unlike the storyteller and the cleric, he does not see<br />
knowledge as an end in itself. Rather, it should be acted upon and then forgotten.<br />
Knowledge is to be returned to the source which brought it into being... He wants to teach<br />
the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain two things, both to the same end. In the first place, because the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain<br />
unfortunately has knowledge of the tale and all its obfuscations, he will teach him how to<br />
forget this knowledge. He points out that the important feature of the symbols of fire and<br />
water is not their ambiguity of reference, but their relationship. Fire and water act to<br />
annihilate one another. This means, he says, that the end of a certain kind of life... the life<br />
of knowledge... is also the end of a certain kind of death... the knowledge of death... Then<br />
he turns to his second teaching...<br />
Hey! Wait now, Dick. That‘s not what you told me the other evening.<br />
No? Perhaps I hadn‘t thought it out fully then... This is the first time I‘ve<br />
rehearsed the whole work, Tony.<br />
But you appear to be abandoning the spiritual element, Richard. There seems to be<br />
a loss of coherence here.<br />
What spiritual level, Paul?... It‘s a novel. This is how the characters behave...<br />
Perhaps we should let Richard finish, Paul... Tony?... We‘re jumping to<br />
conclusions,<br />
But it is not at all the kind of work he said it was, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l...<br />
Oh let him finish, Paul... It‘s obviously not a sermon...<br />
But, Maire...<br />
You are like the cleric in the story, Paul. Do you realise that?<br />
But there is a lack of coherence, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. Really one ought...<br />
Please, Paul... Go on, Richard...<br />
Very well... There‘s only this... to the best of my memory... The anchorite‘s<br />
second teaching. He says that if death is the only certain thing in our lives, then we should<br />
live to that end. To live means to be in action. Therefore, he continues, we should always<br />
act towards our death...<br />
No! This is...<br />
Paul!<br />
366
But why does he ignore what he has already said?... No, Maire, I insist. He has<br />
already spoken of redemption. He cannot speak of death unless...<br />
Paul, will you let Richard finish,<br />
We are in your house, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, but... Oh very well.<br />
Go on, Richard,<br />
Are you sure? It‘s only a story... No one needs hear a story unless he wants to.<br />
Go on, Dick... This is what you and Dan ended up talking about the other night<br />
anyway.<br />
Yes, go on, Richard...<br />
Okay... Actually, at this point the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain interrupts the anchorite... He accuses<br />
him of making his position even worse, because not only does he dismiss the comfort of<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>f, he also dismisses his political value. The anchorite repl<strong>ie</strong>s by saying that the<br />
ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain misunderstands him. He is not telling him to act suicidely. If he decides to act<br />
towards his death, he will see that the effect is to enhance his life. He includes death in<br />
his living so that as long as he is not dead, he is confronted only by his life. His only<br />
concern will be with living, that is, with acting, so that his actions will be complete in<br />
every way. This, the anchorite says, will he a source of joy to him... But, complains the<br />
ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain, I am threatened with death and my people with enslavement by the Briuin.<br />
What can he joyful in that? The anchorite asks him if he wants to be ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain, if he wants<br />
to lead his tribe. The ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain says immediately that he does. Then, the anchorite repl<strong>ie</strong>s,<br />
if that is your life, you should enter it fully. You should stake your life on it. You will d<strong>ie</strong><br />
eventually, and however and whenever you d<strong>ie</strong> is trivial in comparison with the certainty<br />
that you will d<strong>ie</strong>. Act towards your death and live your life fully as ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain. If you do<br />
that, the anchorite concludes, you will need no one to tell you how to think, for your<br />
thought will always arise from and return to your activity, nor how to live, for act will<br />
follow act, determined as they are by the final act of death...<br />
Is that it, Richard?... Perhaps we should eat now...<br />
If you don‘t mind, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, Eithne and I will leave now.<br />
There‘s no need to go to such an extreme, Paul.<br />
Oh, it‘s not because of that... In any case, the philosophy is tritely existential.<br />
Perhaps he can know no better, but existentialism does not oppose the Spirit. It is the<br />
modern Christian philosophy... I‘m afraid Richard has not researched his novel very<br />
thoroughly... No, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. We must go because Eithne and I are driving up to Dungannon<br />
tomorrow morning. I am to preach there... Thank you for your hospitality, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l...<br />
Goodbye, Tony... It‘s nice to have met you, Elizabeth.<br />
Sure. You too...<br />
Perhaps we shall meet again. I am often in College... Maire, dear Maire. Bear the<br />
bruising of your Spirit.<br />
Oh. I‘m used to it, Paul... Even Dan...<br />
Look to the Spirit and he shall uphold you... Dan<strong>ie</strong>l, I shall pray for Charlotte. Her<br />
trial is gr<strong>ie</strong>vous...<br />
Yes. I‘ll walk out with you...<br />
Goodbye, Eithne.<br />
Goodbye, Maire. It was...<br />
367
Goodbye, Richard... I am sorry to appear so critical... But all writing is a great<br />
responsibility, especially where it is a matter of guiding and entertaining the multitude.<br />
Goodbye.<br />
Tell me when you decide on a date for the Baptism of your son, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l... that will<br />
be a joyous occasion... The Spirit will enter him and make him pure... Goodbye, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l. I<br />
will pray for you too, you know. I will pray that you receive true spiritual guidance...<br />
Goodbye, Paul... Eithne.<br />
Goodbye, Dan<strong>ie</strong>l.<br />
Goodbye...<br />
... like him, but he gets more and more stuffy... Dan, what on earth got into him?<br />
He was positively insulting..<br />
Righteousness, Maire. The protestant vice, I‘m afraid... Will you help me fix some<br />
sandwiches?<br />
Sure... But Richard...<br />
What do you think, Richard?<br />
He doesn’t like modern fiction...<br />
No... He only reads Trollope... Of course, there‘s nothing wrong with that...<br />
I‘ll take Brian from you if you like, Richard... He should go up soon.<br />
He‘s still wide awake...<br />
He’s trying to look up at you... He likes you. Perhaps he liked your story...<br />
I liked it anyway, Richard... I look forward to reading it. When will it be<br />
published?<br />
I‘m waiting to see if the publisher will accept it.<br />
They should do... Come on, Dan. I‘m peckish.<br />
Excuse us...<br />
Sorry about that, Dick... I hadn‘t expected it.<br />
Not your fault, Tony.<br />
Still, I brought you here... Oh well... Excuse me. I must get rid of some...<br />
Are you from New York, Elizabeth?<br />
Is it obvious?<br />
In a way... Tartan. But you‘re not waspish... Philadelphia would be too far south.<br />
It‘s not. I went to college near there... Do you really bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that philosophy?<br />
Which philosophy?<br />
About willing death.<br />
It‘s not a question of bel<strong>ie</strong>f. You either do it or you don‘t.<br />
Sure. I caught that... But do you do that?<br />
Do it?... It can be done only once... Yes. I did.<br />
You look surprised.<br />
I am... I hadn‘t realised... Actually, I haven‘t thought about it until now...<br />
When did you do it?<br />
When I chose to write... I chose to write when I knew I would actually d<strong>ie</strong>... I<br />
thought it was the most valuable thing I could do with my life... I was about twenty.<br />
What caused you to think about death?<br />
I was in love... But that was after...<br />
Hey! Falling in love caused you to think about death?<br />
368
Not directly... Love can make you very aware of yourself... if you let it. One of the<br />
things I saw was my death... But that was after...<br />
What about the girl you loved?<br />
Her mother was against it. She persuaded her to go back to Dublin.<br />
She left you?<br />
Yes... She...<br />
Who left?<br />
The girl Richard loved left him, Tony.<br />
When was that?... I don‘t remember you telling me about that, Dick.<br />
It‘s why he started writing, Tony.<br />
Writing?... Is that why you started, Dick?... Because you failed in love... Huh. It‘s<br />
the classic reason, anyway...<br />
No. Not like that, Tony. Richard said it was because he was in love that it<br />
happened.<br />
And she left him. That‘s the usual thing... Food!<br />
If there isn‘t enough you can help yourselves outside...<br />
Dan is opening some wine... Does anyone want tea or coffee yet?... No?... Well,<br />
let‘s eat...<br />
Did you make these, Maire?<br />
Yes, Tony. What‘s wrong with them?<br />
Nothing... I merely wanted to know who to compliment... You don‘t stint the food<br />
anyway, Maire... You really ought to marry, you know.<br />
Oh don‘t start again, Tony...<br />
But I‘m serious, Maire... Oh Dan... Thanks...<br />
Here you are, Elizabeth... Richard...<br />
Thanks...<br />
Thanks...<br />
Your healths... Now... Good sandwiches, Maire.<br />
Your larder is well stocked. That helps.<br />
I had to run up to Rathmines at the last minute... Charlotte really wasn‘t up to it...<br />
Do you think you should go up and see if she is awake, Dan?<br />
She wasn‘t twenty minutes ago... The rest will do her good. Don‘t worry, Maire...<br />
I hope you weren‘t too upset by the Reverend Paul, Richard. He has tr<strong>ie</strong>d it on me too, if<br />
that is any consolation.<br />
No. As Maire says, he reads Trollope only...<br />
So he‘s hardly a competent judge...<br />
But he is a minister, Dan. He feels responsible...<br />
That doesn‘t mean he knows everything, Maire... Now, don‘t feel obliged to<br />
defend him. He‘s just a petit-bourgeois intellectual...<br />
Who isn‘t in this country?... Eh...<br />
You must always have the last word, Maire.<br />
Oh, do shut up, Tony... I‘m sorry, Dan... I should go... Perhaps I‘m upset about<br />
Charlotte... I think Paul was, too...<br />
No. Stay, Maire.<br />
369
Why did you insist on having this party, Dan? Charlotte‘s mother is dead only a<br />
week... The atmosphere here. Can‘t you feel it?<br />
What do you mean?<br />
Perhaps it is because of the death, but there is a clamminess in the house.<br />
Damp... It‘s been raining since last summer.<br />
No... Why did you invite us, Dan?... It worr<strong>ie</strong>s me... There‘s been so much<br />
rancour this evening.<br />
I thought it would be a good idea, Lotty... uh, Maire... Sorry... I was going to say I<br />
thought it would cheer Lotty up.<br />
Cheer her up!... Are you serious, Dan?... Charlotte lost her mother last week, not<br />
an exam or something... You don‘t just buck up after a week or so and forget all about it...<br />
How long did it take you to recover from your parents‘ deaths?... No... I remember. You<br />
were in shock for almost a year... Don‘t you remember? Do you know there were times<br />
when I thought you would d<strong>ie</strong> of your misery?<br />
Well, perhaps we ought to finish up then... I‘m sorry if it has been so awful for all<br />
of you... especially you, Richard... You couldn‘t have anticipated being treated as you<br />
were... But our part<strong>ie</strong>s weren‘t always like this. Were they, Tony?<br />
Oh no... We got too sloshed to notice.<br />
Getting sloshed... as you call it... won‘t work tonight.<br />
Perhaps we should go, Dan... But what about you?<br />
We should finish the wine anyway... I‘ve opened the bottles... Help yourselves.<br />
Dan, why did you invite us here?... Are you trying to run away from Charlotte‘s<br />
bereavement?<br />
No... There was no ulterior motive. We had planned to celebrate Brian‘s birth and<br />
I suppose I acted spontaneously at the funeral, when I invited you here...<br />
There is some other reason, Dan. I can feel it. I knew you well enough... But I just<br />
can‘t put my finger on it.<br />
That‘s because there isn‘t one, Maire. Now stop probing... Some music...<br />
Elizabeth, what kind of music do you like?<br />
Opera, mostly.<br />
I‘m afraid there‘s no opera. An oratorio would be too ponderous... Richard?... I<br />
know Tony is pretty indifferent to music... Will you put something on, Richard?<br />
Actually, I think we should go, Dan... Dick has to get up early... What time is the<br />
boat at, Dick?<br />
Quarter to nine.<br />
Okay. If you insist... I‘m sorry it‘s turned out like this, Richard...<br />
And we‘ll go too... while it‘s still bright... You ought to rest yourself, Dan... You<br />
look exhausted... Are you still working on that paper?<br />
It‘s not that demanding, Maire. You shouldn‘t exaggerate... I‘m used to doing this<br />
sort or thing.<br />
But you never take a rest from it... You are so unrelenting, Dan. I wonder how<br />
Charlotte puts up with it... Oh...<br />
Put your foot in again, Maire?<br />
Dan, I‘m sorry... Oh no, I keep saying I‘m sorry...<br />
That‘s because you can‘t keep your mouth shut, Maire.<br />
370
Oh, leave me alone, Tony!... You never give me a moment‘s peace... What kind of<br />
man are you? Can‘t you do anything but watch people and make snide remarks?... Why<br />
haven‘t you got a life of your own by now?... Dan! What is it?<br />
Nothing... I just wish you two wouldn‘t fight... What‘s that?<br />
Fleetwood Mac..<br />
I haven‘t listened to that for years... Good idea... let‘s sit back and enjoy it... More<br />
wine...<br />
And some dope... Dick, we used to go away out on this album... Remember, Dan?<br />
I remember... It... it.<br />
Dan! Sit down... No. Over here on the sofa... What‘s wrong with you? Is it the<br />
music?<br />
Oh Jesus!... Dick! Quick! Turn it off... Dan. Hey, Dan... It‘s okay now...<br />
What is it, Tony?<br />
Don‘t you remember when he bought that album?<br />
No... I hated it...<br />
After the crash...<br />
Oh... Dan... Dan.<br />
Christ! He‘s shaking all over... We‘d better get a doctor.<br />
No... It‘s okay... I‘ll be alright in a moment...<br />
Dan... Here... L<strong>ie</strong> back... Take his glass, Tony... Dan... Try to relax, Dan... Please.<br />
Oh please, Dan.<br />
Perhaps you should get a doctor, Tony.<br />
Is it a nervous breakdown, Dick?... He went like this the other night too. Knocked<br />
his drink over... He‘s under a lot of pressure... What do you think?<br />
I don‘t know... He could be ill.<br />
Dan... Oh Don... Don‘t...<br />
It‘s okay, Maire... I‘ll be alright in a moment...<br />
What is it?<br />
Lotty... She..<br />
Liz, will you go up and check? It‘s on the left and the door on the left... Thanks...<br />
Tony, will you get a doctor. The number should be on the phone... Is it, Dan?<br />
No... No, Tony... No doctor... It will pass... There‘s some brandy... Get it...<br />
What about Charlotte, Dan?<br />
What Richard said... Oh, thanks, Tony... Look, will you all have one?<br />
Well? How is she, Liz?<br />
She‘s asleep...<br />
Thanks... What did Richard say, Dan?<br />
Richard?... No. let me sit up, Maire. This brandy is fine... About accepting death...<br />
Do you mean it, Richard? It‘s not just for the sake of the plot, is it?... Charlotte just won‘t<br />
accept that Alice is dead...<br />
But it‘s too soon, Dan.<br />
Perhaps, Maire... But she‘s trying to persuade herself that she is still alive in some<br />
way... She won‘t accept the fact of her death... Richard? What do you say there?<br />
I‘m not a psychiatrist...<br />
371
But you wrote it, Richard! What did you mean?... How is Charlotte to accept her<br />
mother‘s death?... Don‘t you bel<strong>ie</strong>ve in the value of your art?<br />
I can‘t take responsibility for how others interpret my work... I can‘t tell you or<br />
your wife how to read it...<br />
Okay. I accept that... Tony, will you ask Richard to help me? You are close<br />
fr<strong>ie</strong>nds.<br />
Dick?<br />
Very well... But you said it yourself in that public house...<br />
What did I say? I don‘t remember.<br />
You didn‘t accept the fact of your parents‘ deaths... You decided they were dead...<br />
Do you remember?<br />
Ah yes... Yes... That‘s it... Is that it, Richard? Lotty must decide that her mother is<br />
dead?<br />
I don‘t know. How can I?... What do you think it is?<br />
She won‘t bel<strong>ie</strong>ve she‘s dead... Upstairs... Wait...<br />
Dan... Rest yourself...<br />
It‘s okay, Maire... No. I‘m trying to think... How will I put it?<br />
Perhaps we should go outside?<br />
No don‘t, Elizabeth... Unless it embarrasses you...<br />
No. Elizabeth and I will go into the kitchen and make coffee... Maire?<br />
No... I...<br />
Go with them, Maire...<br />
I want to help you, Dan.<br />
Thanks. But you‘ve given me all the help you can... I‘m grateful.<br />
Come on, Maire...<br />
Please, Dan.<br />
If you insist then... Okay. Where was I?<br />
Your wife. Upstairs?<br />
Yes... Yes... Got it... I‘ll put it this way, Richard... For the last twenty-four hours<br />
she has lain in bed thinking about her mother... I know... It seems pretty insane. But there<br />
are other factors... She is trying, Richard... Poor Lotty. It is so hard for her, Maire... What<br />
do you make of that, Richard?<br />
Recapitulation?<br />
Is that it?<br />
That‘s what it seems to be.<br />
Is that what upsets you, Dan?<br />
I‘m not sure...<br />
The music, then?<br />
No... It was something you said.<br />
Me? Oh no, Dan... I can never control my tongue... What was it?<br />
To Tony... You said... You asked him what kind of man he was. Isn‘t that right?<br />
Yes. I remember... He wouldn‘t leave me alone. That‘s it... Richard, Lotty said<br />
that to me last night...<br />
But there is something else you said, Maire... About...<br />
Dan... You‘re beginning to shiver again...<br />
372
I knew... Let me... It‘s the nub... Richard?<br />
Yes?<br />
What kind of man are you?... Got it!... Maire, you asked Tony why he hadn‘t a life<br />
of his own... That‘s it...<br />
Dan... Please.<br />
It‘s okay, Maire... that‘s it, Richard... Why does that effect me so?<br />
Perhaps you don‘t have a life of your own.<br />
Have I, Maire?<br />
Yes! Oh yes you have, Dan... Of all the men I know...<br />
Hhh... You‘re very sweet, Maire... So, Richard, why should that remark affect me<br />
like this?<br />
I don‘t know... I don‘t know enough about the circumstances... You really have to<br />
think this out for yourself, you know.<br />
So you won‘t help me?<br />
I can‘t.<br />
De you have a life of your own, Richard?<br />
Yes.<br />
You‘re certain of that, aren‘t you?... How do you know?<br />
Because I say I have.<br />
Richard, you are very inconsiderate. Why don‘t you help Dan?<br />
In what way, Maire?<br />
No... Maire, wait. I think I knew what Richard is getting at... It‘s all a question or<br />
assertion, isn‘t it, Richard? I mean, my asserting what is the case.<br />
I‘m not sure. I said it only in answer to your question. I don‘t know if it is true.<br />
But truth is an assertion, surely.<br />
Maybe... But you could also assert wrongly and make a fool of yourself.<br />
Then how can you know what is true?<br />
By reflection... obviously... That means that the truth is always in the past...<br />
Yes!... But truth and bel<strong>ie</strong>f are not the same thing...<br />
Coffee anyone?<br />
What?... Oh. Yes, Elizabeth... There are cups and...<br />
We found them. Tony is bringing them in.<br />
There are some biscuits somewhere... No, Maire. I‘m okay. Let me up... Did you<br />
find biscuits, Tony?<br />
No... But I wasn‘t looking for them.<br />
I‘ll get them.<br />
Is he okay?<br />
Oh yes. Talking philosophy with Richard... Wouldn‘t you know.<br />
Did you help him, Dick?<br />
He doesn‘t need my help.<br />
Don‘t be modest, Richard...<br />
What did you say?<br />
About knowing the truth... Wasn‘t that it, Richard?... I think Dan is just as<br />
shocked by Charlotte‘s mother‘s death as Charlotte is.<br />
But why has she switched off on him?<br />
373
Perhaps her shock is the greater... You would expect that...<br />
Here we are... more brandy?... Here...<br />
I won‘t be able to cycle down after this.<br />
I‘ll run you both down, Maire... Don‘t worry... Now... Don‘t you agree, Richard,<br />
that truth and bel<strong>ie</strong>f are different? I mean, a bel<strong>ie</strong>f can remain in the realm of faith, but<br />
some bel<strong>ie</strong>fs can be confirmed.<br />
What if a truth contradicted a faith? If it had no foundation in existing bel<strong>ie</strong>fs?<br />
Fair enough... But what‘s the point?<br />
You mean empirical truth, Dick?<br />
No. That should be called a fact. A fact could contradict all bel<strong>ie</strong>f... But how<br />
could it be called a truth then? You could only say that it was a fact or an event... No.<br />
Truth seems to be a kind of assertion similar to bel<strong>ie</strong>f.<br />
Yes. I thought that.<br />
Hardly, Tony... Some facts are true.<br />
Such as?<br />
The fact of gravity, for instance.<br />
Oh, that is a natural law, Dan. I thought we were talking about the truth of our<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>fs.<br />
No, wait... Gravity in a sense is a bel<strong>ie</strong>f...<br />
Are you serious, Richard?<br />
Gravity never appears in itself. Even Newton knew that. He gave a mathematical<br />
description of its effects only. He thought only God knew what it actually was... But the<br />
point really is that there are other theor<strong>ie</strong>s of gravity... Aristotle‘s and now Einstein‘s...<br />
It‘s a fact that gravity pulls, pushes or presses things down to earth. But if you say what<br />
that fact is, then you are giving a theory...<br />
But the theory is confirmed by the fact, Richard.<br />
Yes. But the theory is not gravity itself. It does not even say everything about it...<br />
To think that the theory is true of gravity, that gravity is actually like that, invokes a bel<strong>ie</strong>f<br />
that bridges the discrepancy between the theory and gravity itself.<br />
Discrepancy...<br />
What is it, Dan?<br />
Oh nothing like that, Maire... Stop watching me so closely. I‘m okay now...<br />
You‘re saying that we can never say what a thing is like? In itself, I mean.<br />
Yes. Even the word gravity itself impl<strong>ie</strong>s a theory rather than anything in the<br />
world.<br />
Then there is no truth?... We only assert bel<strong>ie</strong>fs, is that it?<br />
They are not just bel<strong>ie</strong>fs... We act on them. That‘s the difference between the<br />
cleric and the anchorite in the story. The cleric is looking for truths. His bel<strong>ie</strong>fs become<br />
dogmas. But the anchorite acts on his assertions... But they are not the same kind of<br />
assertions. The cleric‘s assertions give him authority over others. They put limits on other<br />
men, subordinating their actions to his dogma. For the cleric, only a god can act, a god<br />
that is also defined by his dogmas... But the anchorite‘s assertions arise from his own<br />
actions and are returned to them. They require a personal commitment...<br />
Hew can he know he is right?<br />
374
I‘m not sure he can... not in the way the cleric knows... or whatever you call it...<br />
he is right... You see, the anchorite starts from his own actions and returns to them. His<br />
assertions are no more than bel<strong>ie</strong>fs... necessarily, they are assertions after all. But he<br />
claim‘s to return to his actions, to go beyond his assertions...<br />
Does he?... What do you think?<br />
I‘m not sure... It is a solution, you know... Whatever theorising or bel<strong>ie</strong>ving... or<br />
speaking about them... we do, we are always in action. That‘s fundamental... I think it is<br />
significant that the anchorite speaks about making only one assertion... holding one<br />
bel<strong>ie</strong>f... And it is about a certainty, too... About death... Yes, It could be that. The<br />
assertion is made about a certainty. Perhaps it is the recognition of a truth... the only<br />
truth...<br />
You mean death, Richard? Isn‘t that morbid?<br />
But the anchorite says that to recognise the inevitability of death gives you your<br />
life... I think there is sense in that, Maire.<br />
A kind of rebirth, Dick?<br />
No. That‘s too obviously theological. It would expose it to other theological<br />
assertions... more like an awakening... becoming aware... of what is already the case... It‘s<br />
not a gift. It‘s there already.<br />
But why are you so hesitant, Richard? You told me that you made such a decision.<br />
Did he?... When?<br />
No, Elizabeth... I only responded to your question... At that moment, it seemed as<br />
though I had made a decision then... About choosing to write, Maire... But I did feel<br />
then... I was twenty... that writing would make my death worthwhile...<br />
And your life?<br />
I don‘t know. There‘s no standard...<br />
What about Christ, for instance?<br />
Christ? But he lived in order to d<strong>ie</strong>... A martyr or sacrifice, if you will.<br />
But he d<strong>ie</strong>d so others might live.<br />
That‘s a bel<strong>ie</strong>f, Maire... That is not intrinsic to Christ‘s life... only to his death for<br />
others... For me, anyway, it‘s a contradiction to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve that one d<strong>ie</strong>s in order to live.<br />
Death must always be before us... You can never put it behind you.<br />
You can never put it behind you?... Richard, this deciding about the death of<br />
others... My parents... You say it does not put the deaths behind me... I think I thought it<br />
did... That‘s what I want Lotty to do... And she refuses...<br />
Dan.<br />
Maire?... What?<br />
Don‘t be se downhearted...<br />
Making a fool of myself...<br />
What?<br />
That‘s the phrase that comes to mind... You said it too, Richard... So the deaths of<br />
others... My parents and Lotty‘s mother, for instance... They always remain before us too?<br />
My father‘s does... But even so... We can‘t act towards their deaths... only our<br />
own... ..<br />
Then what about the deaths of others, Richard?<br />
375
They are their own deaths... But what do we suffer?... I think we can only suffer<br />
because they did not make their deaths worthwhile... I mean as far as we are concerned.<br />
I don‘t understand you.<br />
He means because they didn‘t understand what his anchorite did, Dan... Is that the<br />
message of your book, Richard? A new philosophy of death?<br />
I‘m not sure it‘s original, Maire... I didn‘t try to be original... No. It has something<br />
to do with love, I think.<br />
Hey! That‘s it... He became aware of death when he fell in love... When he was<br />
twenty... Isn‘t that right, Richard?<br />
I think this is different, Elizabeth... I mean because they couldn‘t love us enough.<br />
But isn‘t that what happened to you anyway?... Isn‘t that right, Tony?<br />
Dick might be talking about something else, Elizabeth... Aren‘t you, Dick?<br />
Yes... This... Love is a kind of identification. But two distinct individuals can<br />
never be identical... They can‘t be one person. They cannot take on one another‘s deaths,<br />
if they did they would d<strong>ie</strong> together...<br />
That can happen.<br />
Perhaps... In the love myths... Tristan and Isolde, Romeo and Jul<strong>ie</strong>t... The deaths<br />
were based on misunderstandings. The men d<strong>ie</strong>d because they couldn‘t face the deaths of<br />
the women and then the women d<strong>ie</strong> because they can‘t live without the men... Their<br />
deaths are not for one another, they are because of one another... They remain distinct<br />
individuals...<br />
Are you saying that we cannot love one another enough to overcome death?<br />
That‘s what it seems to mean, Maire... If one commits suicide because of the<br />
other‘s death, it means that the couple acted towards the death of one of them only, not<br />
towards the deaths of both, which would be impossible anyway... they are not likely to d<strong>ie</strong><br />
at the same moment... But the one who commits suicide cannot act towards his own<br />
death... In some way he has fooled himself... or herself...<br />
But isn‘t it a deep love?<br />
It might be, Maire... But it is also an abandonment of the self... That‘s what bel<strong>ie</strong>f<br />
is, in any case.<br />
What should he do then?... Live in misery ever after?<br />
That would seem to be the price of love... But the point is that individual men and<br />
women remain distinct and individual because of their deaths... They cannot reach<br />
identity with one another, because their deaths are their own and remain their own no<br />
matter what else they might want.<br />
Discrepancy... So we can do nothing but suffer afterwards? Anything else... Like<br />
my decision about my parents... is an illusion.<br />
Don‘t say that, Dan... It helped you enormously. I saw that for myself.<br />
It did, Maire... It did then. But what has happened now?<br />
Nothing. It is another death, Charlotte‘s mother.<br />
No... It wasn‘t because of that that I broke down... It was because...<br />
Dan.<br />
No. It was because I felt suddenly that my decision has done no good... I had<br />
fooled myself.<br />
You didn‘t, Dan...<br />
376
Maire, you want me to be happy... No. I thank you for that... But you want me to<br />
be happy at any price...<br />
Dan!<br />
Think about it, Maire... .You said once that you would give anything to make me<br />
happy... Don‘t you remember?... We were in a trendy pub near Ballsbridge. You were the<br />
nearest to being drunk that I ever saw.<br />
Drunk, Dan? That I would like to see.<br />
I wasn‘t drunk, Tony... Did I say that, Dan?... Perhaps I did. But you knew what I<br />
meant. I wanted you to get over your misery. I wanted that above all else.<br />
Exactly... That‘s what I mean... But, Richard, you seemed to think it was the right<br />
thing to do... Making that kind of decision, I mean...<br />
Yes, I did.<br />
Then why should I suddenly feel it was totally useless?... And I did. The<br />
Fleetwood Mac album suddenly brought it all back to me... You see, I suddenly saw that I<br />
had not escaped the misery I bel<strong>ie</strong>ved the decision had released me from.<br />
But you said it wasn‘t the music... Isn‘t that right?<br />
That‘s right, Dan... It was something I did... When I told Tony that he hadn‘t a life<br />
of his own... Dan!<br />
That‘s it, isn‘t it, Richard?... I decided about my parents‘ deaths but not about my<br />
own?<br />
They would be different kinds of decisions... Though I suspect that...<br />
Yes!... Sorry... The decision should be about my own death, isn‘t that it? Then the<br />
deaths of my parents would be resolved by that decision... And all the other deaths I may<br />
have to suffer?... And it is only when I decide about my own death that I will have my<br />
own life, isn‘t that so?... That‘s what I have to do, isn‘t it? Decide about my own death?<br />
Act towards it as your anchorite says?<br />
Well... He is only a character in a story. His teaching is only...<br />
Wait a moment now... Richard, he is an anchorite. Is he a solitary because he acts<br />
towards his death?... Is that the result of his decision?<br />
Maire...<br />
No, Dan... I can see it. If he acts towards his own death, then he cannot love. He<br />
must live in total isolation... Isn‘t that right, Richard?... Do you see that, Dan?... But is it<br />
possible to live like that, Richard? I don‘t think it is... it‘s a kind of suicide.<br />
Is it, Richard?<br />
The ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain asked him something like that. He had told the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain that he<br />
could act towards his death and yet remain ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain. Then the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain asks him why he<br />
lives as a hermit... He says first of all that the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain can remain ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain because he<br />
wants to be ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain... So it would seem that to act towards your death obliges you to<br />
also find out how you want to live your life. Conversely, it might be that if you discover<br />
how you want to live your life, you automatically begin to act towards your death...<br />
As in your case?... As you told Liz.<br />
I did decide to write. My death was only a kind of background to that. A kind of<br />
value, if you like, or a measure of value, perhaps... But the anchorite did it the other way<br />
round. He had been a poet... He tells the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain this... One day he realises with<br />
complete certainty that he will d<strong>ie</strong>... It is because of that realisation that he decided to<br />
377
leave the world and become a hermit. He had lived in a wood for several years, until he<br />
dreamed of a place in the west, where a line of four lakes lead up from the coast to a<br />
hidden hanging valley formed by the steep slopes of three high mountains... He is going<br />
in search of this place at the time of my story...<br />
But why did he go off on his own, Richard? Why didn‘t he remain a poet?<br />
Well, he says he is not a mystic. He is not looking for a revealed truth or anything<br />
like that... That‘s because he wants to forget knowledge, no doubt... He says that his<br />
desire to be pure act led him there...<br />
What does that mean?<br />
I‘m not sure... I wrote that because that is what came... I don‘t think I can go<br />
beyond that... In language, I mean.<br />
But that is a mysticism!<br />
Wait, Maire... Why does he tell the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain to go on being a ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain. Why<br />
wouldn‘t he want to go off on his own and become pure act?<br />
Perhaps because the ch<strong>ie</strong>ftain came to it through realising his vocation... The<br />
anchorite did ask him if he wanted to be the leader of his people, and he said he did.<br />
Would that be enough, Richard?<br />
Is it enough in your case? To be a writer?<br />
No... Of course not... Where is the toilet?<br />
Oh... Upstairs... At the back, to the right.<br />
Excuse me...<br />
There‘s still some wine... Tony? Elizabeth... Here you are, Maire. Get you sloshed<br />
tonight.<br />
You will not, Dan,<br />
Might forget yourself, eh?... We could have an orgy...<br />
With you, Tony? When did you last have an orgy?<br />
Or you?<br />
Are you okay, Elizabeth? I‘ve hardly spoken to you this evening.<br />
Sure, Dan... It‘s fine... Sure is an interesting evening.<br />
Now you know what they mean about the mad Irish.<br />
Hey no... It really is interesting. Never heard anyone at home talking about death...<br />
They just forget it?<br />
Don‘t want to know, Tony.<br />
But this will hardly help your research, will it?<br />
What‘s it on?<br />
Rousseau... Is it still sexual relations?<br />
Kind of... But what you‘ve all said about love and death... Maybe I‘ll check out<br />
what Rousseau thought about death.<br />
Elizabeth has a theory... And I think it is an original one... That Rousseau couldn‘t<br />
explain how his noble savage could have sexual satisfaction. He would have to enter into<br />
relations with another human, which would restrict his natural isolation... That‘s it, isn‘t<br />
it, Elizabeth?... So in order to maintain this fundamental part of his theory, he treats<br />
woman as a natural object, like a fruit tree, by means of which his man could take his<br />
satisfaction when he felt inclined. The woman‘s feelings or desires are ignored... Do you<br />
think then the death may have influenced Rousseau‘s account, Elizabeth?<br />
378
fruit...<br />
I don‘t know... It‘s an idea I‘ll check out.<br />
Good... I think it is worth looking into... At least Richard‘s theory has borne some<br />
What about you, Dan? Have you learned anything from it?<br />
Me?... Ah, Richard. You found it without any trouble?<br />
Yes. The light was on.<br />
Some more wine?... We might as well finish this... Elizabeth is going to follow<br />
your idea about death up. She thinks it might explain Rousseau‘s chauvinistic attitude to<br />
women... Will it?<br />
I don‘t know Rousseau‘s theory.<br />
He thought women should he passive objects of man‘s pleasure.<br />
Hey, wait, Dan. That‘s Rousseau‘s theory. I reckon he was afraid of women...<br />
That‘s different... He has no theory of death... I want to find out his attitude to death. It<br />
might explain why he was afraid of us.<br />
You said it was because he was impotent.<br />
But why was he impotent?... Why are men so impotent?<br />
Men?<br />
Hh-hh.<br />
Is that your personal interest in Rousseau? You mentioned a boyfr<strong>ie</strong>nd back home.<br />
Dan, don‘t be so personal. Don‘t forget you are Liz‘s supervisor.<br />
Sure... I‘m curious... Okay, Elizabeth, I won‘t pry. But you did say that<br />
SUNDAY<br />
all men are impotent... Why impotence? Rousseau isn‘t unique.<br />
A lot of men are like him?<br />
Sure... At least in the States... Oh. It‘s all a con, Doctor White...<br />
Dan...<br />
Sure, Dan... Habit, I guess.<br />
But why is that a sign of impotence, Elizabeth?<br />
They‘re afraid of women.<br />
So you‘ve said... Why are they afraid of women?<br />
Dan.<br />
Mmm?<br />
Don‘t he unfair.<br />
Unfair, Maire? I‘m just curious to know what Elizabeth means.<br />
You‘re being disingenuous... It‘s unfair of you to take that attitude. You are...<br />
Hey, Maire, you don‘t have to stand up for me. Like I said, men are afraid of us...<br />
Dan?... Touché, Liz...<br />
379
At this point, Maire, the man is expected to prove he is not afraid of you... Isn‘t<br />
that right, Elizabeth?... Rape?... But that only proves his weakness, doesn‘t it?... So what<br />
is he afraid of?<br />
Stop it, Dan.<br />
No, Maire. Let Elizabeth speak for herself.<br />
You‘re upsetting her... Liz, don‘t pay too much attention to his bantering... Liz!<br />
Excuse me...<br />
There! Why do you have to be so cruel, Dan? She‘s so much younger than you.<br />
She brought the subject up.<br />
But don‘t you see she doesn‘t know what she is saying... Don‘t you know what is<br />
wrong with her?... I‘ll go and see if she is alright. I am disappointed, Dan, You have<br />
always seemed to be a gentleman...<br />
There‘s still some wine... Tony? Richard?... Oh here, Let‘s finish it...<br />
She‘s sweet on you, Dan. Why did you invite her here of all places? And Maire...<br />
Your fan club?<br />
Are you jealous, Tony?<br />
Not jealous of you. But I resent your arrogance... You did take advantage of her.<br />
Then you miss the point... or points, rather.<br />
Tell me.<br />
Okay. One. I‘m the only man... as such... that she knows... up to now... here. And<br />
studying in Europe is romantic. You can see that... the kilt and all that... Now two. If she<br />
has a personal interest in what she is researching, then only to the extent that she explores<br />
that interest also, will her work be of value. So I force a crisis. She won‘t come to my<br />
office again to spend an hour talking off the top of her head... And three. As a protofeminist,<br />
she is righteous. She speaks the gospel and doesn‘t expect to be contradicted...<br />
There you are... What do you think, Richard?... Richard, what do you think? I‘m curious.<br />
Nothing, really.<br />
Are you on her side too?... Well?<br />
Dan, don‘t start in on Dick now... What‘s wrong with you? I‘ve never seen you<br />
behave like this before.<br />
Like what, Tony?<br />
This arrogance. It‘s not you, as Maire noticed.<br />
But she can‘t be allowed to fool herself... You tackle Maire about that all the time,<br />
don‘t you?<br />
But Maire should know better. Liz is still fairly young, you know. She‘s probably<br />
still a virgin.<br />
You‘re really determined to make me feel guilty, aren‘t you?... Well, aren‘t you?<br />
Actually, I think we should push along... What do you say, Dick? It‘s after<br />
twelve...<br />
Good idea.<br />
Oh, very well...<br />
Thanks for the drink and that, Dan... It‘s a pity Charley is not well...<br />
You‘re welcome... Sorry it was such a scrappy evening, Richard... Perhaps<br />
another time when you are in Dublin again... You‘ll tell me, Tony, won‘t you?... The<br />
situation here can only get better...<br />
380
Sure... Take it easy anyway.<br />
I‘ll walk out with you... It‘s a pity we didn‘t get to talk more, Richard. Your<br />
theory is very interesting... This action thing, I mean, I would like to hear more about it...<br />
There isn‘t much more to it.<br />
No? I don‘t know about that. I‘m working up a theory of language that might<br />
interest you, all the same... Look, Richard, it could clarify the relationship between<br />
language and our actions... You know, consciousness...<br />
Are you going, Richard?... Tony? What happened?<br />
Nothing, Maire, It‘s late, Dick has to be up at about six or half six.<br />
How is Elizabeth?<br />
Better... Are you going to apologise?<br />
For what?<br />
Maire, Dan... Leave it be.<br />
He upset her, Tony... He should...<br />
You know as well as I do that she was trying it on. And you encouraged her...<br />
Don‘t blame Dan for all of it.<br />
I would expect you to stand up for him, Tony.<br />
I‘m not... I accused him of being arrogant a few minutes ago.<br />
He is.<br />
Do you blame me, Maire?... Oh damn, Come on... All of you... Elizabeth...<br />
Elizabeth... Elizabeth, look, I‘m not going to apologise, but I will say this... Will you try<br />
to make allowances for everything?... Not only for me but also for yourself?<br />
Sure, Dan... I guess I touched a nerve... In myself, that is...<br />
Good... How is that, Maire?<br />
That‘s the best way, Dan... Yes, isn‘t it, Liz?<br />
Richard? Tony?... Good... Will you have a night-cap?... Let‘s clear the air...<br />
Elizabeth? Maire?... Good, Let‘s sit down... Brandy?... You know, Elizabeth, it touched a<br />
nerve in all of us... Didn‘t it?... There... Your healths...<br />
And yours.<br />
Good... Maire... Are women afraid of men?<br />
Oh don‘t start again, Dan. Leave well enough alone... Please.<br />
See?... It cuts both ways... Can‘t you feel the temperature go up again?<br />
Dan, now stop it.<br />
No, I‘m being sincere now... I‘ll prove it, I‘ll be indiscreet, Maire... Do you know<br />
the last thing I said to Lotty today?<br />
Dan, you‘ve drunk too much. Don‘t say anything now that you‘ll regret tomorrow.<br />
Regret?... I don‘t think so, Maire... Two reasons, One. It will implicate you...<br />
What?<br />
Two... And I‘ve just realised this... I think this is a unique gathering. We‘ll never<br />
gather together again...<br />
Oh come on, Dan.<br />
It‘s true, Tony... Listen. Tomorrow Richard goes back to his real life in London,<br />
At Christmas Elizabeth goes back to Big Apple. Maire is planning to go to Germany<br />
soon... That is so, Maire?... And I don‘t often see you, Tony. You move in your own<br />
circle... And a fairly mysterious one at that... You see?... Now, I told Lotty that she can‘t<br />
381
e mother... Silence... Nothing to say? You could write a whole philosophy around that...<br />
Even a novel, Richard. Couldn‘t you?<br />
Why?... Why did you say that to her, Dan? It was so cruel.<br />
And to the point?... It hurt me to say it, Maire.<br />
Charlotte has always meant well, Dan. You should trust her more... She deserves<br />
that.<br />
And me?... Well?... What do you think, Elizabeth?<br />
It‘s a private matter... I don‘t think I ought to say anything.<br />
But what do you think?... Did it strike a nerve? If I were to say that to you in<br />
similar circumstances?<br />
I don‘t want to be anyone‘s mother.<br />
Too true... What do you want to be? Tarzan‘s Jane?<br />
Dan! You‘re drunk!<br />
I‘m not the only one, Maire... What if I were to say it to you, Maire?<br />
You won‘t get that chance.<br />
Too true, too... But you would laugh at me, wouldn‘t you?... Wouldn‘t you,<br />
Maire... Okay, don‘t answer... Tony?<br />
Lay off, Dan.<br />
Sure. You‘ve got a mother... Richard?<br />
I‘ve got a mother too.<br />
Ha!... Okay, I asked for that... But seriously, Richard, you‘re seeing it from the<br />
outside.<br />
What do you want me to say? I don‘t know what you‘re getting at.<br />
Men and women... What do you think? Why are they afraid of one another?<br />
I don‘t know.<br />
Are you afraid of women?<br />
Yes.<br />
What?... Do you mean that?<br />
Yes I do.<br />
What do you think of that, Maire?<br />
Richard is candid, anyway.<br />
And you, then?<br />
What about yourself, Dan?<br />
Why are you afraid, Richard?<br />
They always remain a threat, Elizabeth.<br />
That story of yours, Dick. The one about the French woman... Mother was<br />
absolutely livid with you about it... Did I ever tell you that?<br />
No.<br />
What is it about?<br />
The man meets a French woman by chance, Maire. He goes back to her room, She<br />
laughs at him because he is self-conscious and he rapes her... Isn‘t that it, Dick?<br />
He becomes self-conscious because she expects him to merely serve her. She<br />
turns into an object for him. But he can‘t make love to an object... A statue or image of a<br />
woman. She laughs at him and calls him a clown...<br />
Scorn...<br />
382
Yes, Scorn... So he has to act. He separates the object that has been presented to<br />
him from the woman inside... She didn‘t realise that a man is free with respect to an<br />
object. He can do what he likes...<br />
Ugh...<br />
She is hurt afterwards because she wasn‘t an object to herself. In her enduring<br />
vanity, she thought he had taken advantage of her body... And he is hurt afterwards<br />
because what she had offered him left a void in him.<br />
She was wrong to laugh at him?<br />
Obviously that‘s how she always behaved with men, Maire... She made them<br />
serve her body. She scorned him because he couldn‘t do that... That forced him to act.<br />
What he did was unexpected. He didn‘t submit to her. Instead, he tr<strong>ie</strong>d to reach the<br />
woman herself through her body... She had not considered the possibility.<br />
Not just rape, Richard?<br />
No, Dan... She gave her body to him... He took what she offered. But he used it<br />
for his own ends.<br />
That happened to you? I can hear it in your voice.<br />
Yes.<br />
And that is the threat, Richard?<br />
A woman might scorn a man for a situation she helped to create... Women can<br />
have such a low opinion of men, Elizabeth.<br />
Is that why you were violent?<br />
Oh no... He was trying to get in contact with the woman behind the body... It<br />
wasn‘t out of anger or malice.<br />
But you said you... the character... did what he liked with her.<br />
He felt free, yes, Maire... But he wanted contact with her herself... The kind of<br />
freedom he exper<strong>ie</strong>nced was intolerable, You see, he had been given it... It was a<br />
profound rejection of him as a man. The woman withdrew and left him with an object, a<br />
thing, instead... He sought to escape that isolation... being alone with a thing... by forcing<br />
the woman to come back to him. He used the object, her body, to ach<strong>ie</strong>ve that end.<br />
And he failed?<br />
Yes, of course. They didn‘t understand one another. She saw him as a means to<br />
what she regarded as a natural end. But he tr<strong>ie</strong>d to make her an end in herself. She was in<br />
a way already free and she was used to men submitting to her freedom... He had come to<br />
the stage of seeking his freedom, but he thought someone else would give it to him. He<br />
sought his freedom in her, in the spontaneity of their coming together... What he<br />
discovered was that no one gives you your freedom. Nor can you take it from someone<br />
else...<br />
But you said he was free with her body.<br />
With an object...<br />
While he wanted to be free with the woman?<br />
Yes.<br />
She refused him, then? Is that why he felt rejected?<br />
No, Elizabeth. I think it is deeper than that... A relation is a limitation on freedom.<br />
She could not relate to him freely, but he didn‘t understand that.<br />
So he was at fault, Richard?<br />
383
Of course, Maire... He was ignorant. He didn‘t know he was already free...<br />
But you said he was seeking his freedom, Dick.<br />
Yes. He thought he had to look for it. He didn‘t know that you are always free...<br />
It‘s the fundamental condition of life.<br />
Even animals?<br />
Yes... It‘s not a question of conditioning. It is the act that is free... All life is<br />
ultimately unconditioned with respect to action.<br />
I don‘t understand, Richard...<br />
There‘s always something in an act that absolutely eludes the actor...<br />
Dan?<br />
What is it that eludes us, Richard?<br />
I don‘t know... It completely eludes us,<br />
You mean it then... But how can you know that?<br />
There‘s always something missing... That‘s how we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce it.<br />
You mean time?<br />
No. Time is only an aspect of action... As duration, I mean...<br />
Cause and effect, then, Dick?<br />
There‘s more than one action there... No... How can I put it?... I don‘t mean that<br />
an act is incomplete at any instant. I‘m talking about a complete act... Like lifting this<br />
glass... There‘s something in that act that I cannot grasp. I know there is something I<br />
cannot know because I exper<strong>ie</strong>nce that failure of knowledge...<br />
Go on, Richard,<br />
Well, I think I can say that in one respect anyway any act is an irruption into an<br />
existing state of affairs, which modif<strong>ie</strong>s, however minutely, that state... But that state is<br />
actually composed of a multitude of ongoing acts, so that my act irrupts what is a<br />
manifold of irruption. Even so, my act modif<strong>ie</strong>s that manifold... You can see that any act<br />
is free in that way, that it has effects because it is an act outside of the effects I intend... I<br />
raise the glass in order to drink. The glass is complete as far as I am concerned. But the<br />
act of raising the glass modif<strong>ie</strong>s the set of my body, which modif<strong>ie</strong>s the balance of stress<br />
in my chair. At the same time, the act modif<strong>ie</strong>s how you are all disposed towards me. The<br />
balance of your bod<strong>ie</strong>s adjust, your eyes move, your minds note the event...<br />
But that is not what you mean?<br />
Not entirely, Dan... Perhaps it is also a matter of understanding... Is the act of<br />
lifting this glass in fact a single isolated and complete action? I don‘t mean in terms of<br />
cause and effect... I might raise it because I want to drink... No. Is it an isolated act? Is my<br />
presence in your home the act, and the raising of this glass just part of that act? Or is the<br />
slight adjustment in the pressure of one of my fingers a distinct act within the act of<br />
lifting the glass? Or the tilt of the brandy in the glass?...<br />
So you are saying we arbitrarily classify actions?<br />
That is secondary... But if what we call an act... like raising the glass... dissolves<br />
into a manifold of subsidiary acts, how can we say that raising this glass is an act, when it<br />
is many acts? But those subsidiary acts themselves dissolve into sub-subsidiary acts...<br />
All the way down to the nuclear level?<br />
But no complete act is observable there, either,<br />
That‘s true... Then there are no acts?<br />
384
The trouble is that there are... I raise this glass.<br />
You mean we call them acts?<br />
More. We invent them...<br />
What?<br />
Wait, Maire... Go on, Richard.<br />
I don‘t mean we arbitrarily decide to say that this is an act... Or that we are<br />
foolishly enough to do so... All life disposes itself in relation to the manifold in terms of<br />
act. You could say that life is such a disposition... But the point is that... I‘ll call it<br />
reality... that reality in itself might be very different to how we are disposed towards it...<br />
You mean that what we call actions mightn‘t actually be actions? Is that it, Dick?<br />
Not quite, Tony... Our disposition towards reality are acts... unavoidably so,<br />
because we are life. But from the other side, as it were, they may not appear as acts...<br />
What would they he then, Richard?<br />
I don‘t know, Elizabeth... Maybe a vast continuum.<br />
Something like a process?<br />
No. More like a f<strong>ie</strong>ld... It‘s hard to say... Impossible, actually... But you see, don‘t<br />
you, that by examining act you end up with that v<strong>ie</strong>w?<br />
And that is what eludes us?<br />
Yes...<br />
But what has that to do with freedom, Richard?<br />
Two things, Elizabeth, I‘ve said that there can be no freedom in relations. That‘s<br />
because relations modify... That‘s why I think we are not free with respect to one<br />
another... Or the world... But we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce ourselves as free... At least we can if we<br />
choose to... This freedom must be outside all relations we hold. But life... if it is a<br />
disposition of act-ness... is thoroughly embedded in relations... so this freedom must arise<br />
outside that disposition... in something like the continuum or f<strong>ie</strong>ld I mentioned...<br />
Wait now, Richard. Quantam physicists say that what l<strong>ie</strong>s underneath all action is<br />
indeterminacy... Chance... Is that what you call freedom?<br />
I‘m not sure... Isn‘t this indeterminacy to do with observation? That they cannot<br />
measure everything that happens at that level?... It is the indeterminacy of our knowledge<br />
not the indeterminacy of events there... But that is not my point. I‘m saying that down to<br />
the most microscopic level what we choose to call an act dissolves into subsidiary acts...<br />
We haven‘t isolated a complete act yet... Do you see what I mean?<br />
Ah... Chance is not important?<br />
There are chance elements in any act. Even in raising this glass... There is no need<br />
to descend to sub-atomic particles.<br />
Oh... I thought you were saying that at this level reality appeared as some kind of<br />
f<strong>ie</strong>ld.<br />
No, Dan. With new instruments it might be possible to uncover even more minute<br />
levels of act... No, It‘s the endless dissolution of acts into subsidiary acts... That... And<br />
our exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of freedom.<br />
So it‘s because we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce freedom that you say that reality is some kind of<br />
f<strong>ie</strong>ld?<br />
That and the fact that acts are not unit<strong>ie</strong>s.<br />
My head is reeling. The two of you are beginning to go in circles.<br />
385
of...<br />
Have some more brandy, Tony.<br />
Thanks... Anyone else?... Come on, Maire. You‘ll need it... Liz?<br />
Sure.<br />
Enjoying yourself?<br />
This is great.<br />
The European indulgence?... If it isn‘t counting the number of angels on the head<br />
This is not the same, Tony.<br />
Isn‘t it, Maire? It sounds very metaphysical to me,<br />
Well, it‘s not... Is it, Dan?<br />
No, I don‘t think so... But it does remind me of something I‘ve been working on...<br />
Richard, do you know anything about Frege and his theory of meaning?<br />
No, I‘ve never heard of him.<br />
No? Anyway, he argued that reason was the container, as it were, of all thought. I<br />
discovered that no relations could exist between reason and thought, or between thoughts,<br />
for that matter... or even between thought and language... The reason for this, I worked<br />
out, is because Frege in a sense was playing with words. All the terms he used to define<br />
the rational had in effect the same meaning... They pointed to the same thing, which in<br />
itself couldn‘t actually be named... I call this unnameable thing identity. It‘s what every<br />
meaning points to, but without being able to say what it is... I‘ve worked out a theory of<br />
language as an ensemble of sets of what I call equivalent meaning. For instance the term<br />
Dublin and the statement the city on the Liffey are equivalent in meaning. They mean the<br />
same thing. But to say what this meaning is you have to use one of the terms... or another<br />
one of equivalent meaning, like the capital of the Republic of Ireland... But it is clear that<br />
all these equivalent meanings point to some meaning which is the same for all the terms,<br />
but which cannot be reduced to any one of the terms... But there is no use pointing out the<br />
window at the city. It only becomes another equivalent meaning, a reflection of the words<br />
we use to refer to it... You seem to be doing that. You are using language to point towards<br />
some unnameable thing, freedom or this f<strong>ie</strong>ld of reality... Would you agree?<br />
I‘m not sure. I see what you mean about language pointing beyond itself... I<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce that every time I write... But I‘m not sure it points towards some kind of<br />
meaning only... We bring something to language. We use it to give accounts of our<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce... I‘m trying to explore exper<strong>ie</strong>nce by means of language.<br />
Yes. I call that the practical use of language... But I would argue that you cannot<br />
escape language. That what we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is intelligible only because we have the words<br />
to signify it...<br />
Escape language?... Perhaps it‘s different for me, I choose to write. In that sense I<br />
enter language. But I‘m not trapped within language... I am outside language to start with.<br />
How? What else is there?<br />
Freedom... Ah. I see what you mean... When I try to say so?<br />
Yes.<br />
So when I talk about freedom, I‘m playing with words?<br />
If I ask you what you mean by freedom, for instance, your answer will always be<br />
an equivalent statement.<br />
386
But Richard is talking about an exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, Dan. He‘s pointing to something<br />
inside us, not in our heads.<br />
But to say what it is, Maire...<br />
That‘s not important, Dan... If you had no language you would still be free... Isn‘t<br />
that right, Richard? Like an animal or a tree?<br />
Yes... I use language to maintain my awareness of my freedom.<br />
But that doesn‘t mean it is true, Maire... Does it, Richard?<br />
No... It‘s a kind of conviction then.<br />
A bel<strong>ie</strong>f, Dick?<br />
When I try to put it into words, Tony... to tell you about it, I can only tell you<br />
about my freedom. I can‘t tell you about yours.<br />
But everybody could use the same word, Richard, or some equivalent.<br />
But words alone couldn‘t make someone aware of his or her freedom, Dan.<br />
But they could point towards it?<br />
Did I do that tonight?<br />
Paul called it incoherence... Remember?<br />
You mean he gave himself away, Maire?<br />
Perhaps, Dan... And perhaps you called it discrepancy.<br />
Discrepancy?<br />
And Liz cr<strong>ie</strong>d... And Tony and Richard were on the point of going.<br />
What about you, Maire?<br />
They are all rejections, you know.<br />
What did Maire reject then, Tony?<br />
She refused to be your mother, Dan.<br />
Tony!<br />
It‘s true... Don‘t you remember, Maire?... Dan? You said you were going to be<br />
indiscreet, but that it would implicate all of us... You said you refused to let Charley be<br />
your mother...<br />
Not my mother, Tony... Mother... She wants to be her own mother, so that she<br />
could go on bel<strong>ie</strong>ving she‘s alive...<br />
Is that what she is doing upstairs?<br />
Something like that, Maire,<br />
Oughtn‘t you stop her?<br />
Who am I to stop her?... You are right, Richard. Everyone does have his or her<br />
own freedom.<br />
But rejection, Dan... Is it always so negative, Richard? How else? Freedom is for<br />
itself. It can‘t relate to anything else...<br />
Exactly like Frege‘s Reason, Richard...<br />
But you said that was an abstraction, Dan... Freedom is not an abstraction.<br />
I know, Maire... What was Frege trying to say then?... Not just him, but the whole<br />
rationalist tradition... Would you say that freedom involves knowledge, Richard?<br />
If the anchorite is right, Dan, it doesn‘t.<br />
But is there any connection between reason and freedom?<br />
387
Except in terms of our awareness of our freedom, I can‘t see any. I mean, our<br />
knowledge of freedom is not some kind of absolute knowledge in itself... You could<br />
forget you were free, but I would say you continue to be free anyway.<br />
And freedom is isolation, Richard?<br />
Yes. If you could be totally free you would be totally isolated.<br />
Like God?<br />
No theology, Tony, please.<br />
God can‘t be totally free if he holds a relation with us, Tony... He couldn‘t be<br />
more free than we are.<br />
Jesus!... Sorry... Are you serious, Dick?<br />
That‘s how it seems to me... If God is totally free, then he is irrelevant as far as we<br />
are concerned,<br />
And if not, he is much like us?<br />
In that respect anyway.<br />
What do you think of that, Dan?<br />
Unless he is or it is the f<strong>ie</strong>ld you talk of, Richard.<br />
Then we can‘t know him... Knowledge impl<strong>ie</strong>s a relation anyway.<br />
Hey! That means we can‘t know our freedom, Richard. Otherwise it wouldn‘t be<br />
our freedom... We would have a relation with it.<br />
I didn‘t say we knew our freedom directly, Elizabeth... I said we discover it in<br />
what we sense is missing...<br />
And it shows its presence in rejection?... Wait... Your anchorite rejects<br />
everything... That‘s his freedom, isn‘t it?<br />
Yes... Yes.<br />
I get it now... So that is why you say the recognition of the inevitability of our<br />
death gives us our freedom.<br />
But how, Dan?... How does that happen, Richard?<br />
I‘m not sure, I haven‘t thought it through, Maire... In the story it is said that the<br />
recognition of death releases us to life... That is action... The anchorite seems to be<br />
seeking pure action... outside the distraction of knowledge...<br />
You said it was the act that was free, Richard.<br />
I know, Dan... The act is free because it dissolves into something like... No... I<br />
couldn‘t say anything about the anchorite‘s idea of act in the novel... Yet I felt he was<br />
somehow right...<br />
Here, have another tot, Richard... There‘s no need to push it, you know... What<br />
you‘ve said already is fascinating... I mean, you‘ve shown us something of what freedom<br />
is.<br />
But how did you know, Dan? I mean when you said you would implicate all of us.<br />
I didn‘t, Elizabeth...<br />
Hey, wait a minute, all of you... We‘ve got that wrong... Dick and I were going to<br />
leave because of Dan‘s treatment of Liz... And she broke down because of that... The<br />
business of the mother thing came afterwards...<br />
Are you sure?<br />
No. Tony‘s right... Isn‘t that right, Liz?<br />
Yes. But I had forgotten.<br />
388
Then it‘s all wrong... Dick... Hey, Dick. Look...<br />
Wait a moment... Why did Dan behave like that?<br />
He wanted Liz to tell him why men are afraid of women... She couldn‘t...<br />
Why couldn‘t you, Elizabeth?<br />
I don‘t know, Dan... I just welled up when I tr<strong>ie</strong>d to answer.<br />
What do you think now?<br />
Huh... I don‘t know... I can‘t think... All this liquor...<br />
Impotence, Liz?<br />
No, wait, Tony... You‘re beginning to do what I did... Elizabeth, I impl<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
afterwards that you really wanted to generate that kind of reaction... Remember? I called<br />
you Tarzan‘s Jane...<br />
And that brought up Dick‘s story...<br />
Which in fact was about precisely that kind of reaction...<br />
But why did you say that what you told us about Charley would implicate us,<br />
Dan?<br />
Don‘t you remember?... He asked Liz why men were afraid of women again...<br />
Then he told us what he had said to Charlotte... Dan, you were trying to tell us why men<br />
were afraid of women... That‘s why you said it would implicate us...<br />
What were you afraid of, Dan?... Is it because you thought Charley wanted to be<br />
your mother?<br />
Not my mother, I told you... Yes. My mother, but only incidentally... I was afraid<br />
of something else she wanted to do...<br />
Ah...<br />
What is it, Tony?<br />
She wants to convince herself that her mother is not dead... That ‘ s it, Dan!... She<br />
refused to recognise death.<br />
But that was someone else‘s death, Tony. Richard said that that wasn‘t the point.<br />
But death itself, Maire...<br />
No... Hold on... It‘s not as simple as that... Lotty thinks Alice is damned.<br />
What?<br />
There are reasons, bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me... She wants to save her mother from damnation.<br />
Oh Christ, Dan. Where did she get that idea from?<br />
A nightmare she had...<br />
About the accident? Did you...<br />
No.<br />
But why would she think her mother is damned, Dan? I met her... She seemed a<br />
good woman.<br />
She was, Maire... But... Lotty may think that is not enough.<br />
If goodness is not enough, then what is?... Dan, where did Charlotte get the idea<br />
from? She never struck me as being... well, religious in that way.<br />
Something to do with idolatry... She read some things in the Bible... She opened it<br />
at random... you know... They had to do with the sin of worshipping a false god.<br />
Dan... Why did you let her do that? She must have been pretty desperate.<br />
I didn‘t know what it would lead to, Tony... They were remarkably coherent... I<br />
mean, considering how she chose them.<br />
389
that.<br />
mean.<br />
I suppose if you opened the Bible anywhere you‘d find a passage on sin... It‘s like<br />
These were quite specific verses, Maire...<br />
What are you going to do?... Perhaps you should speak to Paul... It‘s his area, I<br />
I‘m not sure I should interfere... No, Maire... I know it is pretty drastic...<br />
Damnation... But it is Lotty‘s pain after all. I‘m regarding it as her way of dealing with it.<br />
Oh Dan, how can you sit here with us like that, when you know Charlotte is<br />
upstairs suffering so gr<strong>ie</strong>vously?<br />
It is her suffering... Maire, if it hadn‘t been damnation it would be some other<br />
idea... It‘s better then driving herself mad trying to wish her mother back to life.<br />
You must feel very helpless, Dan... No wonder you broke down earl<strong>ie</strong>r...<br />
She told me to leave her alone... It took me a while to understand her.<br />
Then your remark about her wanting to be mother... That was a jibe?<br />
It must have been, Maire... I will apologise to her when this is all over...<br />
You should... She‘s very good to you, Dan... I think she saved you, you know.<br />
After the crash?... Yes... She did give me something to hold on to... I should<br />
remember that... Now. Will we have something to eat?... I for one am hungry.<br />
Perhaps we should go... Liz?... It‘s late now, Dan.<br />
Whatever you say, Maire.<br />
But eat first, Maire... Liz?... You, Tony?... Richard?... What‘s wrong with<br />
Richard?<br />
He‘s on a loop, I think.<br />
I‘ll make some sandwiches...<br />
No. I‘ll help.<br />
Let‘s all go into the kitchen... Help ourselves... Dick!... Come into the kitchen...<br />
Food... Bring your drink...<br />
Here... Help yourselves... I‘ll carve the rest of that chicken... Oh. Remind me to<br />
feed Brian, will you.<br />
He‘s asleep.<br />
He‘s been very good tonight, Dan... Not a murmur.<br />
He is a very good boy, Maire...<br />
You do love him, Dan... I‘m so glad.<br />
When I called Orla, to give her the cheque for her mother, she thought I<br />
was calling her for herself. She lit up and I saw her as transparent. She was totally<br />
open to me, without reservation. I‘m glad there was the cheque: it didn‘t stop her,<br />
but it prevented what passed between us from being impossible. She would not<br />
have been able to say what she did otherwise; the words, and the feeling, would<br />
have engulfed her — they would have become absurd in her self-consciousness,<br />
I can see now that she was the innocence on the other side of the mountain<br />
from the scouts in the bus — did I appear like that to her (at forty)? Shining,<br />
390
transparent too? She closed the circle: I saw the beginning of woman in her: the<br />
whole straining desire to unite, to open and enclose, saying: Will you let me love<br />
you?<br />
Ooooh!<br />
Uh?... Hello... Brian?... You want to get up, do you?... Come on then... Hup...<br />
Dick... Oh... Dan, Brian‘s awake.<br />
Is he?... I‘d better go... Ah Richard... Was he crying?<br />
No... He wanted to get up... I thought I‘d bring him out.<br />
Thanks... Thanks, Richard... I‘m glad you like him.<br />
Who wouldn‘t... Hey.<br />
Give him your finger... He‘ll grip it... That‘s it...<br />
Some grip.<br />
I‘ve lifted him that way... They have very strong hands... Look at him smile...<br />
Come on, both of you. Have something to eat...<br />
You really are quite fatherly, Richard... One wouldn‘t have thought so.<br />
Why, Maire? Because he‘s a writer? An artist?<br />
Oh no... They can make very good fathers... I thought Richard might find it<br />
demeaning.<br />
Well, he obviously doesn‘t... You got out of your loop, Dick?<br />
Oh yes...<br />
Is he heavy?... I‘ll have a bottle for him in a moment.<br />
When you‘re ready, Dan,<br />
What did you discover, Dick?<br />
I‘ve worked the novel out of my system.<br />
How?<br />
The anchorite‘s act... It‘s like being lost in thought. Except he‘s thinking of<br />
nothing... He does nothing.<br />
So it leads to nothing... Are you sorry you wrote it, Richard?<br />
No, Maire...<br />
What will you write about next, Richard?<br />
I don‘t know, Elizabeth.<br />
You should write about Dublin, Dick.<br />
There‘s no story.<br />
Joyce really ruined it for everybody, didn‘t he?<br />
Yes. He showed there wasn‘t much to write about.<br />
Ha!... I didn‘t expect that, Richard... I‘ll take Brian now... Come on, old son...<br />
What do you mean?<br />
Well, if you have to borrow a plot from Homer, the detail from kabbalistic<br />
symbolism, and the ideology from Aquinas, it can‘t be much of a city to write about.<br />
But he‘s regarded as the greatest modern writer, Richard.<br />
Goes to show you, Elizabeth... what modern writing is.<br />
391
Paul didn‘t like it.<br />
He has his Spirit anyway... Will you make some tea, Maire... Clear our heads.<br />
By the way, Dick... A funny thing. You remember we thought we all rejected what<br />
Dan said to Charley about her not being mother. Liz broke down, you and I were on the<br />
point of going, and so on.<br />
Yes.<br />
Well, we got it wrong... Liz broke down and you and I were going because of<br />
Dan‘s behaviour. Remember?... Because Liz said men were afraid of women?<br />
Yes.<br />
Maire didn‘t reject that... That had to do with the mother thing... Do you see? We<br />
lumped the two things together.<br />
And?<br />
That weakens the whole argument about freedom.<br />
So what?... I mean what if you were wrong? You didn‘t think so at the time.<br />
But we got the facts wrong, Richard.<br />
But the story you made of it fitted, Maire...<br />
I don‘t understand you. I mean we jumped to a wrong conclusion, surely.<br />
But you did react to Dan‘s treatment of Liz, Maire.<br />
That‘s true... But why did we bel<strong>ie</strong>ve it all had to do with Dan and Charlotte as<br />
mother?<br />
Because you preferred to speak of rejection of that rather than in the case of Liz...<br />
Displacement.<br />
But why? I mean, Dan and Liz made up.<br />
Not that... Dan asked a question... Then he said something which you took up as<br />
the answer to that question.<br />
You mean men are afraid of their mothers?<br />
It wasn‘t the real answer, Tony. It was an acceptable answer... That‘s why you<br />
focused on it.<br />
Come on, Dick... What is the answer then? Your story?<br />
Is it, Elizabeth?<br />
I don‘t want to be raped.<br />
What then?<br />
Why are men impotent, Elizabeth?<br />
Oh don‘t start again, Dan. Why should she know the answer? She‘s only twentytwo.<br />
She said it, Maire. She must know what she is talking about.<br />
Perhaps she is a virgin. Are you, Liz?... Nothing to be ashamed of, you know.<br />
I reckon so.<br />
But not for the want of trying, no doubt.<br />
Oh Tony!... Do you always have to be so vulgar?<br />
Sorry, Maire... I forgot... As I said, it‘s nothing to he ashamed of.<br />
Oh shut up!<br />
It‘s okay, old son...<br />
I‘m sorry, Dan... Did I upset Brian?<br />
No... It‘s not really sexual, sure it‘s not, Richard?<br />
392
I don‘t think so... It‘s not just women, though they sometimes hear the brunt of it.<br />
And it‘s true for women also, Dick?<br />
I‘d say so.<br />
What is it, then?<br />
Something we can imagine but can‘t make real.<br />
You mean a phantasy?<br />
Not really... We can make it seem real. Look at the world around us... The whole<br />
thing. We invented that.<br />
And what is wrong with that, Richard?<br />
It‘s not real. Is that it?<br />
Yes. It‘s not real.<br />
What is real, then?<br />
What it is we try to make real...<br />
You mean freedom?<br />
No... It is our answer to our freedom... That‘s why we simultaneously try to make<br />
it real and reject it as an illusion.<br />
Dear God, but you make it complicated, Richard.<br />
It‘s not, Maire... You could call it love... Elizabeth?<br />
A fr<strong>ie</strong>nd of mine in New York... He‘s studying to be a rabbi... He told me that the<br />
veins on the penis form an image of the Tree of Life with the serpent coiled around its<br />
base... He said that‘s where the idea comes from...<br />
You saw it?<br />
Yes... Sure... He told me to remember always that the woman picked the fruit and<br />
bruised the head of the serpent...<br />
Nice image... She got herself slung out of the Garden... The man too.<br />
Is that true?<br />
You can always check, Tony.<br />
Jesus.<br />
I‘ll tell you something else, Richard, Elizabeth... I was <strong>stone</strong>d once... It came to<br />
me that a woman‘s breast represents a living heart... You know, soft and alive... It struck<br />
me afterwards that that explains the erotic symbolism of the dove... Have you ever seen<br />
the Italian religious paintings where the doves have exaggerated puffed-up breasts?...<br />
What is so symbolic of life as the pulse of a bird held in the hand?<br />
There you are now, Maire... Are you mollif<strong>ie</strong>d?<br />
Please, Tony... I think we should go, Dan, It‘s after three... You won‘t get much<br />
sleep, Richard.<br />
I‘ll sleep on the train to London.<br />
If you wait till I‘m finished with Brian I‘ll run the two of you down.<br />
I‘ll drive them over, Dan... It‘s not far. Save you having to go out this late.<br />
Our bikes...<br />
Put them in the hoot, Liz... There‘s some rope... I‘ll do it now.<br />
I‘ll help you...<br />
Okay...<br />
393
Well, Richard... It‘s a pity you are off tomorrow... Can you put it back a day?... I<br />
thought perhaps you would come to dinner tomorrow... or rather today... Would you<br />
come, Dan? And Charlotte of course.<br />
I think I‘ll he too crashed, Maire.<br />
Richard?<br />
Thank you... But I‘ve already stayed a day over...<br />
His girlfr<strong>ie</strong>nd will be worr<strong>ie</strong>d about him, Maire... You know.<br />
Oh... I see... Perhaps the next time you come...<br />
Psst... Come on, you two... We‘re off, Dan. Thanks for everything...<br />
Yes.<br />
Are you going out to Dalkey?<br />
Dalkey?... Oh that... Yes. If the weather is clear... I‘ll ring you during the week.<br />
Yes. Do that... Take care now... Don‘t worry about it... I‘ll handle everything.<br />
Thanks.<br />
And look, Dan, Go down to Renvyle next weekend... No. Do that... Take Charley.<br />
The rest will help you both... I‘ll drop the keys over... So long now... Don‘t be long,<br />
Maire... So long, kiddo...<br />
Are you alright, Dan?<br />
Sure, Maire... I‘ll take Brian up after I change him... I‘ll leave this mess till the<br />
morning.<br />
Be pat<strong>ie</strong>nt with Charlotte, won‘t you?<br />
I am... Go on now. They are all waiting.<br />
Will you let me kiss you?<br />
Oh Maire. You really...<br />
Will you?<br />
Yes... Come on... I‘m t<strong>ie</strong>d down with Brian...<br />
There... Dan... Look at me... If you ever want me for anything... No matter where I<br />
am...<br />
Maire.<br />
It‘s not against Charlotte... Don‘t think that. Please... I can‘t help it, Dan,<br />
Oh Maire... I‘m sorry... I really am... But this is the way it is.<br />
I know, Dan. I accept that... But if you ever need me... I mean that... Anything... I<br />
really do love you above all else... Goodnight, Brian... Sleep well, dearest...<br />
Take care, Maire...<br />
About time, Maire... If Charley ever catches on to you...<br />
Shut up and drive, Tony... You really ought to do something instead of talking all<br />
the time.<br />
... the mining towns... You know, beard and long hair... After V<strong>ie</strong>tnam, I<br />
suppose... But they hated students. But Chuck is a big guy...<br />
You two okay in the back?... Richard?... Liz?<br />
Sure.<br />
Grand...<br />
Dick will never be able to tear himself away from the place... Will he, Maire?<br />
Oh, he insists on going in the morning.<br />
You too... How do you do it, Dick?... I know... He plays hard to get, Maire...<br />
394
... States is like that... Go out of the big cit<strong>ie</strong>s and it‘s primitive... We were<br />
travelling over from Saint Louis... Mother had given a course there... We collected her...<br />
Stopped for lunch in a small town... The guy came over and praised mother for her pretty<br />
daughters... my sister and I... Then daddy came in... he had been parking the car... The<br />
guy looked at him, then at us, and walked off, muttering fucking yids...<br />
I didn‘t know that kind of thing can still happen in America, Liz...<br />
Sure, Maire... Other places you wouldn‘t want to be an Irish Catholic or Irish at<br />
all...<br />
I suppose it‘s big enough to disperse the different ethnic groups... Not like here.<br />
But you all get on so well down here, Tony.<br />
Only at a certain level, Liz... Community of interests... Where to now?... Liz?<br />
I‘m not sure... Maire?<br />
Around the Green to the right, Tony... Go straight on...<br />
It‘s a pity you‘re going tomorrow, Richard... I sure would have liked to talk to you<br />
some more...<br />
Follow the road around to the left... Liz, will you come up... It‘s too late to knock<br />
up the hostel.<br />
Sure... Thanks...<br />
Here, Tony... No... You needn‘t drive in...<br />
Walk you up, though, Maire. You never know... Come on, you two. Home... Oh,<br />
the bikes...<br />
Will you be back before Christmas?<br />
I don‘t know... But it has been nice meeting you, Elizabeth... I hope you get the<br />
Masters.<br />
Oh sure... Dan will see to that...<br />
Liz?<br />
Coming, Maire... Goodbye, Richard.<br />
Goodbye, Elizabeth... Have fun.<br />
Huh... I try, bel<strong>ie</strong>ve me... So long.<br />
Goodbye, Richard... I really enjoyed meeting you... Will you let us know when<br />
you come over again?<br />
Tony can tell you.<br />
Tony?<br />
Oh yes... I‘ll put it in the Irish Times.<br />
Goodnight, then...<br />
Goodnight...<br />
Hey, come on... I‘m absolutely jacked... You enjoyed yourself?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good... God, but we can talk, can‘t we? I can‘t remember the half of it... It‘s not<br />
far from here... We‘ll go through... Wait... Ah yes... We can go up Fosters Avenue and<br />
Mount Annville... You liked Dan?<br />
After a while... Yes.<br />
He‘s a bit like that... Hermetic... But I thought he‘d had it tonight... He went like<br />
that the other night too... Knocked his drink over. Then he began to talk about his<br />
395
childhood... They really bottle it up... Massive tension... I let it all trail out behind me...<br />
Like a cloud of glory... What about you?<br />
I use it up and throw it away...<br />
Do you? I wouldn‘t have...<br />
But it keeps bouncing back...<br />
Ha! That‘s more like you... At least you try to get rid of it... They liked your book.<br />
But will they buy it?<br />
Don‘t be cynical, Dick... They did like it... Look at the stir it created... That‘s a<br />
good sign.<br />
You really enjoyed that... As provocative as ever...<br />
Stir them up, Dick... Notice they never got around to talking about the old student<br />
days?... That‘s become a pain. I hate living in the past...<br />
How did you stir them up before?<br />
Oh that... I‘m bored with that... Stupid thomist catechism... When I think of it,<br />
Dick... I must have been off my head... You were taught by a religious order, weren‘t<br />
you?<br />
Christian Brothers... But mostly lay teachers.<br />
Lucky you... We had the whole thomist shit morning noon and night... They were<br />
so sure of themselves, Dick... And I really bel<strong>ie</strong>ved them... Oh... This is where Charley...<br />
Dan‘s wife lived... Along here somewhere... Nice houses... She had her twenty-first<br />
there... Pity you didn‘t meet her, Dick... I like her... Funny though...<br />
What?<br />
What Dan said about the woman‘s breast...<br />
Why?<br />
His mother was a big woman... You know... Like my mother... But Charley is so<br />
thin... Small breasted, I mean... You‘d wonder... And since she‘s cut her hair she looks<br />
even more boyish...<br />
It was only an idea, Tony... You know, an image... He didn‘t like what Elizabeth<br />
said.<br />
You think so?... Might be, alright. I saw the way he was looking at her... She‘s<br />
prominent... Like Maire herself... No. It‘s bloody strange... Just down here now... Maire<br />
has always been crazy about Dan... That‘s obvious, isn‘t it?<br />
Yes... And him?<br />
There you are... She‘s a catholic... But that doesn‘t stop them... I never understood<br />
why he marr<strong>ie</strong>d Charley... much as I like her... and not Maire... I mean, Maire‘s just as<br />
loaded... If not more... Charley is prett<strong>ie</strong>r... Her mouth is heavenly... Do you think that‘s<br />
it?<br />
I don‘t know... Maybe... I didn‘t meet her.<br />
Your women were always beautiful too... Remember Margaret?... Ooops...<br />
No harm done.<br />
I used to dream about her, you know.<br />
Warum nicht?<br />
Here we are... We‘ll go qu<strong>ie</strong>tly. If mother wakes she‘ll want to feed us... Come on,<br />
I‘ll get your bag... I‘ll show you your room... How‘s your head?<br />
Surprisingly clear.<br />
396
Light‘s on... Good... Look. She left sandwiches... Do you want some?<br />
No... I‘ll have them in the morning.<br />
No trouble... We‘ll fix a real breakfast... In here... Now. You just crash out... I‘ll<br />
call you...<br />
Tony... Look, you don‘t have to get up... I‘ll get a taxi down the road...<br />
Come on, Dick. I said I‘d drive you out.<br />
It‘s too late... I didn‘t think we‘d be so late... It‘s after four... Leave me an alarm...<br />
No. I mean it... You‘ll be wrecked tomorrow, as it is... By the way, what about the threat<br />
to Dan?<br />
What threat?... Oh that... Don‘t worry about that, Dick... I‘ll make some enquir<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
tomorrow... later today... That MacShane couldn‘t be in on that sort of thing... Are you<br />
sure? About getting out to Dun Laoghaire?<br />
Yes, I‘m sure... I‘ll be fine...<br />
Well then... It was nice seeing you again, you know... I hope you enjoyed yourself.<br />
I did... Thanks for everything... Take care of yourself, Tony.<br />
You too... And good luck with the novel...<br />
Yes... Sleep well...<br />
The failure of Frege‘s endeavour is a particularly instructive instance of<br />
the inevitable failure of such reflection in general. The failure of reflection is<br />
ramif<strong>ie</strong>d. It occurs because the nature of language is misunderstood. Language is<br />
in essence the articulation, that is, the communication, of meaning between human<br />
beings. But language is more usually regarded as a system of reference subordinated<br />
to actuality. Here articulation is understood as a syntactical imitation of<br />
actuality. Subjects act on objects; subjects possess attributes, as parts to wholes. In<br />
reflection, this misunderstanding obliges theologians and philosophers to seek<br />
referents for the fruits of their reflection. Thus theology and philosophy are<br />
inevitably ontolog<strong>ie</strong>s. Given the misunderstanding of the nature of language, it is<br />
not surprising that the abiding problems in these disciplines have to do with categor<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
of actuality, with presence and the mode of presence. Thus there are the<br />
problems of being, substance, essence, completeness, considered as referring to an<br />
actual presence. Complementing this, there are the problems of existence, reality,<br />
materialism and idealism, that is, the problem of the mode of presence in actuality<br />
of being, etc.<br />
The assumption underlying this mistaken v<strong>ie</strong>w of language is that actuality<br />
is anterior to language. Language is possible only because actuality exists, already<br />
articulated in terms of relations of possession and action. Thus, notwithstanding<br />
the fact that theology and philosophy create their subject-matters by refining the<br />
practical operations of ordinary language, theologians and philosophers always<br />
assume that they, too, are referring to an already articulated actuality, though they<br />
readily admit that this actuality is a refinement of ordinary actuality, either<br />
transcendent or abstract. However, it is obvious that in ordinary language use the<br />
397
problems of actuality are practical problems. This is not necessarily clear to<br />
ordinary language users, because for them language remains purely a system of<br />
reference. It never becomes the object of reflection. In practical matters, language<br />
is always accompan<strong>ie</strong>d by action in the world. This means that actual presence<br />
and mode of presence is always encountered in action. Problems of actuality are<br />
always problems in the world, and are resolved by practical action in the world.<br />
In terms of human practice, then, language remains an instrument of<br />
reference determined mediately by actuality but immediately by human intention<br />
and actions. Because of this, practical language does not fail. It can he used<br />
wrongly and falsely of course, but it can be corrected either through more precise<br />
knowledge of referents or through the outcome of human practice such language<br />
instigates. The insoluble problems of theology and philosophy arise because their<br />
reflections have no relations with human practice in the world. Thus their actuality<br />
is not the human practical actuality, but an abstracted analogy of that actuality<br />
considered as a pure actuality-for-itself, real or ideal.<br />
The analogical nature of this pure actuality arises not from the ‗real‘<br />
content of human practical actuality, for the pure actuality is posited as its reality,<br />
but from the structure of the human language which is assumed to refer to<br />
practical actuality. This means that the problems encountered in theological and<br />
philosophical reflection cannot be resolved by practical human action in the<br />
world, because these problems do not refer to practical actuality. But because<br />
theologians and philosophers must assume, in conformity with the common<br />
misunderstanding of language, that the linguistic formulations which express<br />
these problems have referents, it is impossible for them to see that what appear to<br />
be problems of a refined actuality are in effect problems produced by the<br />
assumption which underl<strong>ie</strong>s their reflection, that is, that language is a system of<br />
reference subordinated to actuality, as such. Now, the enduring recalcitrance of<br />
these problems have often led philosophers and theologians to argue that one of<br />
the main barr<strong>ie</strong>rs to resolving them l<strong>ie</strong>s in the limitations of ordinary language.<br />
Thus, when philosophers come to reflect on language, it is never undertaken as an<br />
end in itself: to solve the problem of language would not in itself resolve the<br />
problems of pure actuality, it would only provide a tool for further investigation.<br />
The language problem is distinct from the problems of pure actuality, and its<br />
resolution would serve only to provide philosophers with improved access to pure<br />
actuality.<br />
It is significant that the inadequacy of ordinary language is seen to be not<br />
in object-reference but in relation-reference, that is, in logic or inference. This, of<br />
course, only reflects the mistaken assumption that language is a system of<br />
reference to actual objects which articulates the relations of and between objects.<br />
But the philosophical investigation of language, from the perspective of a posited<br />
pure actuality, in itself exposes this erroneous v<strong>ie</strong>w of language. If objects are<br />
fully expressed in language, how then could there be any inadequacy in the<br />
expression of relations? If there is such an inadequacy, then how can objects be<br />
referred to in language? If they can appear in linguistic form under such<br />
conditions, they do not appear as references, for that is impossible, but as the<br />
398
objects-in-themselves. Thus a name is the object: only in this way could an object<br />
appear in a statement which inadequately refers to the relations of the object. Thus<br />
the object appears only at the level of meaning, not of reference.<br />
Thus, while philosophers necessarily — through their misunderstanding of<br />
language — assume that language is only partially inadequate, that it can express<br />
objects but not all relations (i.e. presence and modes of presence), it is obvious<br />
that language can only be either totally adequate or totally inadequate. Either it<br />
can express both objects and relations fully or it cannot. If it cannot, then language<br />
fails completely, so that nothing can be said. If it can, then language does not fail,<br />
so that everything can be said. This means that language is the final determinant<br />
of intelligibility.<br />
On the basis of the mistaken v<strong>ie</strong>w of language as a system of reference<br />
subordinated to actuality this leads to the conclusion that language either fully<br />
refers to actuality or it does not do so at all. Now, it is accepted that at the level of<br />
human practice language is efficacious, Therefore, at that level, language fully<br />
refers to actuality, that is, it can conform to actuality. If it is said to fail at the level<br />
of philosophical or theological reflection, one can only say that this failure is total.<br />
But the failure here is not the failure of language: it simply means that there is no<br />
actuality at this level to which language can refer. This conclusion is unavoidable<br />
because it would be impossible to explain how language is adequate to one area of<br />
actuality but not adequate to another. It would be impossible to explain because<br />
language is assumed to be a system of reference to actuality, that is, that actuality<br />
determines language. Either actuality determines language or it does not. Once<br />
again, there can be no partial determination by actuality.<br />
This means that on the mistaken v<strong>ie</strong>w of language as a system of reference<br />
language is a total system. It is total insofar as it is determined by the content of<br />
actuality and total insofar as it can express that determination, Now, on the<br />
practical level this is the case. Language does not fail, therefore it is entirely<br />
adequate. But on the level of reflection, this is not the case. Either it can only<br />
express insoluble problems concerning a pure actuality, or else it is inadequate for<br />
expressing relations of objects in pure actuality. Thus, language appears to be total<br />
on the level of practice but not total on the level of reflection.<br />
Now, language can be total at the level of practice because it is a system of<br />
arbitrary designation, that is, it is never called upon to perform what it says. If a<br />
formulation is wrong or false, it can be corrected by human actions: either<br />
linguistically by means of correct reference or performatively by means of human<br />
action, that is, by the failure of action and the recognition of that failure. But at the<br />
level of reflection, language cannot be regarded as a system of arbitrary<br />
designation because it cannot be tested in practice. Hence it must always be<br />
performative, it must be both formulation and practice. Thus, reflective utterance<br />
does not refer to a pure actuality, it is in itself the pure actuality. Considered as a<br />
system of reference, language must fail at the level of reflection, because there are<br />
no referents at this level.<br />
In practical terms, the failure of reflection has no effect on human practice.<br />
This is because practically, human action ultimately determines ordinary language<br />
399
use, it is the performance and judgment of language. Nevertheless, the failure of<br />
reflection does, or should, expose the error in the common v<strong>ie</strong>w of language as a<br />
system of reference. It indicates that the totality of language does not reside in<br />
reference. Statements can be formulated which are performative. If language were<br />
only a system of reference, then this would be impossible. But once language is<br />
seen to be primarily a system of communication, then the concept of performative<br />
statements can be understood, though it is a mistaken concept. Communication is<br />
the conveyance of meaning; as such it is a practice. Meaning resides in statements<br />
as equivalent meaning, not as reference. Meaning is neither true nor false: it is<br />
positivity as opposed to absence, A statement is meaningful if the auditor grasps it<br />
as meaningful. The statement ‗God is eternal‘ cannot be tested by reference or in<br />
human practice, yet its meaning can he grasped. It is also meaningful regardless of<br />
whether it is judged to be true or false. Even so, meaning is not an actuality.<br />
Communication is a practice, but it is the act of conveyance, not the meaning<br />
conveyed, which is the practice here. Language is never performative.<br />
This is not to say that meaning is the foundation of language to the<br />
exclusion of reference: it is only to say that meaning is primary. Meaning can be<br />
grasped without reference, but a reference that is meaningless is not a reference.<br />
However, meaning makes possible the arbitrariness of designation. It is the<br />
coherence which underl<strong>ie</strong>s the non-performative nature of language. It makes<br />
possible statements which are wrong or false, because it allows them to be<br />
communicated without necessarily revealing their incorrectness or falsity. Even<br />
so, meaning is not the total-ness of language. The total-ness of language resides in<br />
its relation to practice, in the utter plasticity of its designations as they bear upon<br />
practice. Thus, the totality of language is the world that language gives to human<br />
practice, a dialectical, undetermined, and completely malleable system of<br />
designation that l<strong>ie</strong>s between meaning and reference. Practically, language is used<br />
as a system of designation determined by reference. But linguistically, language is<br />
a system of designation made possible by meaning, that is, by communication.<br />
That communication or meaning is primary, in terms of language itself, is<br />
indicated by the fact that as a reference system, designation is arbitrary, utilisable<br />
as a totalisation at any instance, but not in fact a totality, because references are<br />
not abiding — the human world changes. But this totalisation is only possible<br />
because as a meaning-system statements are complete. Meaning can only be<br />
instanced. It appears in the statement at the moment of utterance only. But<br />
meaning survives its instantaneous presence because meaning in language is<br />
always equivalent meaning. Thus the meaning I utter appears in my auditor as<br />
equivalent meaning, not the meaning I conveyed. Communication is an act of<br />
translation. Thus meaning cannot he judged, for meaning is always equivalent. If a<br />
man states that his utterance has not been understood, the problem of meaning<br />
here can be thrashed out only in terms of equivalent meaning, by saying ‗I thought<br />
you meant —‘ and ‗No. What I meant was —’.<br />
In this sense, a meaningful statement is unique, but it is meaningful only in<br />
terms of statements which convey equivalent meaning. It is this fact that makes<br />
possible the totality of language. It also demonstrates the limitation of language.<br />
400
you?<br />
Statements of reference always remain singularit<strong>ie</strong>s, but they are not unique. Such<br />
statements designate elements of actuality as signs reflecting these statements,<br />
Such statements are repeatable, and are used as serial identifications and<br />
articulations of their referents, Thus the statement ‗The house is blue‘ is both an<br />
identification of a particular referent, which is a sign reflecting the statement, and<br />
an articulation — it refers to a relation. But at the level of meaning, each utterance<br />
of the statement is unique, and relates to each other utterance as equivalence.<br />
However, this fact need never become apparent at the practical level,<br />
because meaning and reference remain undistinguished. But the statement is<br />
meaningful even where, as in the present case, there is no referent. Here the<br />
meaningfulness of the statement ‗The house is blue‘ survives from reading to<br />
reading as equivalence. Furthermore, to say what the meaning of the statement is<br />
would lead to the utterance of statements of equivalent meaning. These<br />
considerations are only commonplace extensions of the more obvious example of<br />
the survival of meaning in translation given above, where all the tokens of<br />
communication are changed, as in the translation of the statement into Chinese.<br />
Lotty! You‘re up... How are you, sweetheart?<br />
I‘m fine, Dan... What time is it?<br />
About one... Yes, Quarter past...<br />
Where is Brian?<br />
Inside. Asleep... Where I can keep an eye on him.<br />
Has he been fed?<br />
Yes...<br />
Good... I‘ll have a bath... Are we going to Dalkey?<br />
Yes... Yes. When you are ready.<br />
I won‘t be long... Did you have a nice party?<br />
They were sorry you weren‘t able to he there.<br />
You are pale, Dan... What time did it end?<br />
About three.<br />
Your hand... Are you cold?... The sun is shining.<br />
No.<br />
You had a lot to drink.<br />
Not too much... Are you better?<br />
Better? For the moment... You said it will come back from time to time, didn‘t<br />
I was so worr<strong>ie</strong>d about you, Lotty.<br />
I told you not to, Dan... Oh, Dan... You look so pale. Have you been writing this<br />
morning?<br />
Yes, I‘m trying to finish it today... This part... We had such an interesting<br />
discussion last night, you know...<br />
401
Dan. The Bible... You said you opened it after the crash... What did it tell you?<br />
Can you remember?<br />
I‘ll always remember that, Lotty... It was psalm thirty five... Wait, I‘ll read it to<br />
you... Here... The second verse... Take hold of sh<strong>ie</strong>ld and buckler, and rise for my help...<br />
Why do you ask?<br />
Yes... And that is what you have done, Dan?... Since then?<br />
Do what, Lotty?... I don‘t follow you.<br />
Fight your way to God... Dan. There is so much confusion...<br />
What do you mean? Fight my way to God?... Wherever did you get that idea,<br />
Lotty?<br />
That‘s what it says... isn‘t it?<br />
No... It‘s David calling on God to come and help him... Lotty, why are you so<br />
intent?<br />
It‘s so confusing, Dan... I tr<strong>ie</strong>d so hard, you know. But it was so confusing...<br />
I know... When I first read it my heart leaped... It did, Lotty... I thought it was a<br />
call to me... From God, I mean... But the context... It‘s the other way round...<br />
Poor Dan... You must have been awfully let down.<br />
No... I had done it out of curiosity... I didn‘t let myself depend on it.<br />
Are you sure?... When you read it to me... It seemed so apt, Dan... But now you<br />
say it doesn‘t mean what it seems to mean... perhaps that‘s better... I couldn‘t fathom...<br />
Lotty... I told you not to take it so much to heart... It‘s pure chance... I told you.<br />
Coincidence.<br />
I remember. But it made me think so much, Dan... But it was so confusing. I<br />
couldn‘t understand, Dan. I couldn‘t understand it.<br />
Oh Lotty... Please, sweetheart. Don‘t press it so.<br />
I know... I‘m sorry... No. I decided. It is only a confusion... You are right... I have<br />
resolved to avoid confusion in future... I will try to do what you said I should, I will try to<br />
accept that mother is dead... As you have done... But when the pain comes back, Dan...<br />
Will I be able to withstand the confusion?<br />
I will help you, Lotty... You will let me help you, won‘t you? I hate to see you<br />
suffer so, sweetheart.<br />
Yes... If I don‘t... Like yesterday... Will you insist?<br />
Yes.<br />
Good... Thank you, darling... How is Brian?<br />
He‘s in very good form. He enjoyed the visitors last night...<br />
Good... I hope he won‘t be marked by this.<br />
He doesn‘t seem to be.<br />
I hope so... I‘ll bathe... Then we can have lunch before we go out... The sun is<br />
shining... Has it rained?<br />
There was a shower around nine... But it has been bright since... I‘m glad you‘re<br />
better, Lotty.<br />
But you are very tired... You ought to rest now.<br />
No... Later... I‘ll try to finish this while you are bathing...<br />
402
The basic error of the theologians and philosophers can now be isolated.<br />
Going beyond the practical use of language as a system of reference, they fall into<br />
the trap — because they assume that the language of reflection they articulate<br />
must have actual reference — of regarding meaning as an actuality purif<strong>ie</strong>d of<br />
contingency or arbitrariness. In doing so, they come to treat meaning as though it<br />
were performative, that is, that meaning is in some way a practical articulation,<br />
but language cannot be performative, nor is meaning in itself a practice. Meaning<br />
is grasped in instances, in particular statements, and is articulated only as<br />
equivalence, that is, in other statements of equivalent meaning. This means that<br />
the reflection of theologians and philosophers has two moments. The first is<br />
assertion. What is said to be the case beyond the area of practical human activity<br />
is a matter of assertion, What is asserted is not meaning – meaning impl<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
nothing about actuality or truth or falsity — but certain statements. However,<br />
these statements are not coherent because they are meaningful, but because they<br />
appear to refer to a refined actuality. There is a vicious circle evident here. What<br />
theologians and philosophers are in fact seeking to assert — though they are not<br />
aware of it — is meaning itself, which of course cannot be asserted. What they do<br />
assert, from the perspective of language as the means of communication, is the<br />
truth of the meanings of certain statements, assertions which, as meanings, in<br />
themselves are not judgeable.<br />
The second moment is the elaboration of inference from these assertions.<br />
These are presented as proofs, implications, even injunctions to practice. But<br />
given the nature of the core statements – that they are assertions of truth of<br />
meanings – it is obvious that these elaborations are no more than the generation of<br />
statements conveying meaning equivalent to the core statements. Logic is<br />
analytical; it is the generation of equivalent meaning.<br />
Thus theology and philosophy are disguised rhetorics. They are disguised<br />
because they do not admit to being techniques of persuasion – persuading auditors<br />
that their assertions are true — but rather pose as systems of reference. They differ<br />
from rhetoric itself in disguising the nature of their practice. Rhetoric, on the other<br />
hand, is an undisguised practice of persuasion, which deliberately generates<br />
equivalent meaning to practical ends, to guide human actions. Rhetoric derives its<br />
power in the first place from the fact that it recognises that it exploits the nature of<br />
meaning in language. Secondly, it grasps that designation is arbitrary: the human<br />
world can be made to take on any form whatsoever. Thus actions which are<br />
painful and debilitating can be made to appear attractive, and actions which are<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nced as enjoyable and enhancing can be made to appear tainted. Situations<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nced as dreary can be made seem bright, and the transitory made seem<br />
permanent. This is possible because ostensible referents in actuality are signs of<br />
equivalent meaning of the statements of reference. That is, the meanings of these<br />
statements are translated on to actuality.<br />
In rhetoric, reflection upon language serves its proper end. Here reflection<br />
focuses on equivalent meaning and arbitrary designation, the only aspects of<br />
403
language that can be articulated, meaning as communication and designation as<br />
reference. The difference between the reflections of theologians and philosophers,<br />
and those of rhetoricians, then, is this. The theologians and philosophers seek to<br />
make meaning and designation ends in themselves, to make them perform as<br />
actuality. The rhetoricians seek only to exploit the utter plasticity of meaning and<br />
designation in order to manipulate human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of actuality. On one hand,<br />
equivalent meaning can be generated in an overwhelming profusion (there is no<br />
economy in language): this is the art of simile and metaphor. On the other, the<br />
designations which arise in this endless generation of equivalent meaning can act<br />
freely as references to actuality, because designation is ultimately arbitrary.<br />
Theologians and philosophers seek to fix designation as performance, to make a<br />
limited number of statements authoritative, to define meaning by means of a few<br />
particular statements — to hide the fact that such statements convey equivalent<br />
meaning only. They seek to define an essence, the essential world. the essential<br />
knowledge, the essential man, and to assert it as actuality-in-itself, as reality or<br />
ideality, and to transform action into ritual, to turn what is unique instance into<br />
truth.<br />
Of course, such an endeavour is bound always to fail. The insoluble<br />
problems of theology and philosophy are the internal indications of this. Language<br />
cannot be performative, it does not make actuality: it only makes the human<br />
world. Designation refers to actuality only to the extent that referents become<br />
signs of meaning equivalent to the designation. Thus the human world is that<br />
system of signif<strong>ie</strong>d referents. But the human world is not a totality, it is not fixed,<br />
once and for all. It is a totalisation, an instance which accords with human<br />
intention at any moment. Such totalisations can be intended as sweepingly<br />
complete, by means of designations such as ‗The universe – ‘, or particular, by<br />
designating an individual event ‗The dog runs‘. Each is a totalisation: the whole<br />
human world appears in each at that instance.<br />
This is possible for two reasons. On one hand, the equivalent meaning<br />
conveyed by a given statement is complete: meaning can only be instanced. Any<br />
attempt to infer an essence leads only to the generation of statements of equivalent<br />
meaning. On the other hand, designation is arbitrary, not performative. It does not<br />
touch actuality; it cannot affect actuality. But it can lay signification upon actuality:<br />
it isolates a part of that continuum for particular human purposes. It is here<br />
that language is practically efficacious. Signif<strong>ie</strong>d, actuality becomes an object for<br />
human action: in a sense it becomes an artefact — it is made by humans, albeit by<br />
means of language. But language also disposes human towards actuality, in the<br />
guise of the human world. It motivates, signals operations, and acknowledges<br />
completion of human action.<br />
This is the f<strong>ie</strong>ld of rhetoric. All practical use of language is ultimately<br />
rhetorical, because meaning can only be instanced and designation is arbitrary.<br />
There are no essences. To isolate an essence in actuality is like isolating free<br />
meaning: any attempt to refer to it leads, in the latter case, to the generation of<br />
further statements of equivalent meaning, and in the former case, to further<br />
arbitrary designations. Language does not leak. It always remains language, that<br />
404
is, equivalent meaning and arbitrary designation. Even so, language creates the<br />
human world. As designation, though it refers to a simulacrum, it indicates objects<br />
and events – it situates man. As communication, it disposes the action of men<br />
towards that world.<br />
Rhetoric is efficacious because, unlike theology and philosophy, which<br />
seek to assert essential designations, it remains a system of communication.<br />
Designation is secondary: in rhetoric the human world is totalised in instances for<br />
particular purposes, purposes which are in themselves contingent. The human<br />
world is newly created with each new utterance. Thus, rhetoric operates through<br />
meaning. This is not always immediately evident, because rhetoric presents itself<br />
as judgment. It always states or impl<strong>ie</strong>s what is the case: it appears always to<br />
assert a positivity. But it is not an essential positivity, it is merely an instance,<br />
arbitrary and dispositional. What prevents rhetoric, and language itself, from<br />
dissolving into a pure instant-ness is meaning. Meaning is that which bridges<br />
translation, that is, communication. What is uttered here appears there as<br />
equivalent meaning. It is grasped prior to judgment, and rhetoric operates to<br />
dispose this grasping of meaning towards particular judgments, that is, it disposes<br />
human action towards specific ends. Such disposing is possible only because each<br />
instance of meaning is complete. This is not to say it is a totality: meaning is what<br />
is grasped once and for all in a meaningful statement, it is not the coherence of the<br />
parts of the statement. Nor is it totalisation, for it is not in itself the designation; it<br />
is not reference. To dispose human action at the point of grasping meaning, rather<br />
than at the point of witnessing to designation, is to give a secure basis for that<br />
action. It is usually bel<strong>ie</strong>ved that man acts as a language of reference is assumed to<br />
articulate, as a subject acting on objects. But from the perspective of arbitrary<br />
designation, such human action for or on actuality is impossible. It is designation<br />
which creates the signs in the human world, actual referents do not call up<br />
representational signs. To act for or on the human world, as a subject acting on<br />
objects, would be to enter a hall of mirrors; such action would be ecstatic,<br />
ritualistic or obsessive. Human action, then, does not follow a reference-system;<br />
action is not in itself an articulation.<br />
Action is disposed at the point of grasping meaning because action is in<br />
one respect similar to meaning: it too is an instance complete in itself. But it<br />
differs from meaning in not being equivalent. An act is finally unique. It is beyond<br />
language. But action can be disposed at the point of grasping meaning because the<br />
completeness of one<br />
Dan?<br />
405
CULTURE AND TRUTH<br />
Dan<strong>ie</strong>l White<br />
406
I want to begin this paper by asking what may appear to be a somewhat oblique question: Can<br />
ideas have histor<strong>ie</strong>s? But as you will see, answering this question will bring us very quickly to the heart of<br />
the subject I wish to discuss: the nature of truth in culture.<br />
Now, there are two elements in the question. The first is ‗history‘; the second is ‗ideas‘. I propose<br />
answering the question by means of an examination of these topics.<br />
What is history? The commonsense notion is that history is the past, that it is behind us, either<br />
superior or inferior to the present; that it can account for the present; that it serves as a laboratory for testing<br />
political, social and cultural values. Aesthetically, it is the focus of powerful feelings, of nostalgia and<br />
regret, of vindication, loss and hatred. But when the source of ‗history‘, that is, our knowledge of the past, is<br />
examined, some unusual features become apparent: historiography is an entirely linguistic activity;<br />
moreover, only the historian presumes to use language to refer to actual worlds which by definition cannot<br />
be perceived. This means that the worlds presented by historians, the historical worlds, are in fact ‗present‘<br />
worlds. Strictly speaking, there are no ‗past‘ worlds, no actual histor<strong>ie</strong>s, only elaborate images built upon<br />
our exper<strong>ie</strong>nces of memory and behind-ness, our sense of loss or fulfilment, and on our need for complete<br />
models of human life and the var<strong>ie</strong>t<strong>ie</strong>s of human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce. In studying ‗history‘ we do not return to the<br />
past, nor do we call up earl<strong>ie</strong>r ages. Instead, we elaborate images of different worlds, different people, and<br />
different events. In other words, the activity of the historian is very similar to that of the novelist, except, of<br />
course, that we bel<strong>ie</strong>ve the events, people and soc<strong>ie</strong>t<strong>ie</strong>s created by the historians were once actual, while<br />
those of the novelist are essentially imaginative.<br />
What are ideas? Generally, ideas are the intellectual principles we hold to be valuable, this value<br />
being expressed by our commitment to these ideas. They form the basis of our culture. In them we find our<br />
standards of morality and aesthetics, and support for our bel<strong>ie</strong>fs and hopes. Two things are to be noticed<br />
about these ideas. In the first place, they come to us from the past. This is important in our evaluation of<br />
them. Their survival through the testing of many generations is for us an index of their truthfulness, as well<br />
as a legitimating of our allegiance to them. But in coming to us from the past, aren‘t they then historical,<br />
part of our history, and so present to us in the same way that the rest of ‗history‘ is? It might be repl<strong>ie</strong>d here<br />
that, unlike the people and events of the past, ideas have material embodiments surviving from the past. For<br />
instance, Greek aesthetics live for us in classical architecture, art-work and literature, and religious<br />
principles are enshrined in churches and ceremon<strong>ie</strong>s which survive from many periods of the past. But this<br />
is to miss the fact that we witness to these remains in the present: we do not travel back in time. The<br />
material world, as in the case of the imaged worlds, is always only present to us. Even so, it is not a<br />
coincidence that our respect for these surviving artefacts is part of our respect for the ideas which these<br />
remains embody. In other words, it is the ideas which direct our attention to the artefacts, not vice versa.<br />
Now, not alone are these ideas historical, they are, obviously, also linguistic, which is the second thing<br />
about them I want to note. They are conveyed to us in language; they are articulated, adapted and<br />
commended by means of language.<br />
Given these fundamental correspondences between cultural ideas and history, it would seem that,<br />
strictly, ideas cannot have histor<strong>ie</strong>s. Instead, as in the case of the work of historians, we elaborate images of<br />
these ideas expressed in different languages or different idioms. But while this clarif<strong>ie</strong>d perspective does not<br />
seriously diminish the value of historiography — the needs history satisf<strong>ie</strong>s can be satisf<strong>ie</strong>d by ‗historical‘<br />
images — it raises serious questions about the status of cultural ideas. Consider the implications of saying<br />
that our culture has no history, that is, that referring to the past in cultural matters is at least an error, at<br />
worst an illusion. For instance, who then is responsible for our culture? Where is the source of its values?<br />
How can it be legitimised? But most serious of all questions: How can we know that our culture is true?<br />
The question of the truth of culture is the most serious question because if it cannot be answered, if<br />
we cannot say not only how we know that our culture is true but also what this truth is, we will not find<br />
answers to the other questions. Conversely, as I will show, in answering this question about truth, we will at<br />
the same time answer the other questions.<br />
To begin with, the area of enquiry must be clearly defined. While the problem is a cultural one, the<br />
answer cannot be found in culture itself, because the question of the truthfulness of our cultural ideas at the<br />
same time questions the truthfulness of our cultural practices, for these practices, as I will show, are<br />
reflections of our ideas. We must therefore undertake our enquir<strong>ie</strong>s at a more fundamental level. Now, it<br />
will be recalled that I indicated two elements in historiography and cultural ideas: the claim to historicity<br />
and their basis in language. It was the denial of the claim to historicity that raised the question about the<br />
truthfulness of our ideas, but this does not seem to affect the role of language, which remains the medium<br />
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for conveying images. It would seem, then, that language is neutral with respect to how we ‗see‘, that is,<br />
image, history and ideas. But is language neutral with respect to the truthfulness of these images?<br />
In the case of historiography, truth, as such, is not a crucial issue, for the historian works from<br />
documentary evidence which, where the truthfulness of historiography is questioned, can be examined and<br />
augmented by other historians. In other words, the source of truth for historians, their primary sources, need<br />
not in themselves be true in order that the truth about them be discovered. But this is not the case with<br />
cultural ideas, and for two reasons. First, while cultural artefacts and literary sources surviving from the past<br />
might be used as evidence to support ideas, the status of these sources differs from that of historical<br />
evidence. Historical evidence is the content of historiography, but cultural survivals remain always<br />
reflections of cultural ideas: that is, while historiography is always only reference to surviving artefacts,<br />
their documentary sources, culture is ultimately a matter of ideas, not of artefacts or practices. (To argue<br />
that the interpretation of these sources is a significant part of the truthfulness of historiography is to bring<br />
history under the heading of culture, for what is then at issue is not the material sources but the ideas which<br />
inform the interpretation.) The second reason has to do with the peculiar nature of cultural ideas, that they<br />
remain unchanged down through the centur<strong>ie</strong>s. Thus they appear self-referential: if, as I am claiming, the<br />
truth of cultural ideas cannot be found in history or present practice, then these ideas must carry their truth<br />
— it must somehow be ‗written‘ in them. This suggests that their truth must l<strong>ie</strong> in some capacity of the<br />
language that conveys them.<br />
What is language? The commonsense v<strong>ie</strong>w is that language is expression in a mode of designation.<br />
Here signs are arbitrary: their sound and shape can vary without rules in a general linguistic sense. Within<br />
particular languages broad rules apply, but nothing beyond the conventions of a particular language can be<br />
deduced from these rules. This means that the physical articulation of a language has no bearing on its<br />
semantic structure: that structure could be used correctly if every sound and letter were changed. The text in<br />
itself determines nothing in the articulation of a language: it is merely a convention.<br />
In linguistic expression or articulation, signs are arrayed according to syntactical and semantic<br />
rules. These rules do not determine language-use, rather they permit it. The syntactical rules of one<br />
language need not apply in another. Thus syntactical rules in themselves are arbitrary, and are effective only<br />
as conventions. The purpose of syntactical rules is to order relations among words considered as signs. The<br />
correctness of syntax can be judged at the level of syntax, but this will not guarantee semantic correctness.<br />
Thus, ‗The dog runs.‘ and ‗The dog speaks.‘ are both syntactically correct, but only one of them is<br />
meaningful. Within any language, syntactical rules are general, simple — they do not admit to exceptions<br />
— and are appl<strong>ie</strong>d mechanically, precisely because they are fixed.<br />
Semantic rules are very different. They are universal, that is, they are the same in all languages. As<br />
rules permitting connections to be made between names and relations, subjects and predicates, they indicate<br />
in all languages the same lists of subjects and their attributes. Thus while the two sentences above could<br />
appear in different syntactical forms in different languages, the judgement as to meaningfulness could be the<br />
same. Semantic rules do not admit to exceptions, but they do allow for the creation of new attributes. Thus<br />
while the statement ‗The dog fl<strong>ie</strong>s.‘ is strictly meaningless, it can be meaningful in a modern context, if the<br />
dog is carr<strong>ie</strong>d in an aircraft. For this reason, semantic rules are not appl<strong>ie</strong>d mechanically, but they are<br />
usually appl<strong>ie</strong>d unreflectively. This is because semantic rules are tested by reference to established lists of<br />
attributes. Such lists are not conventional, but they are usually limited in range by conventions of speech<br />
habits, interests and environment. (Note that while ‗attribute‘ is usually taken to indicate the qualification of<br />
a noun, it is clear that predications of a subject are also in a sense attributions: predication must also be<br />
appropriate.)<br />
Semantic rules, then, allow the articulation of appropriate relations. But they do not determine such<br />
articulation. There is no semantic rule to tell us which attribute should relate to a subject in a specific<br />
statement, only rules to tell us which attributes can or cannot be related to a subject in any statement<br />
whatsoever. This is because relations, and their articulation, are grounded in the exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of the actual<br />
world. That is to say, relations in language arise because of man‘s interest in and use of the actual world.<br />
There are two possible determinants here: the actual world and human intention.<br />
Does the external world determine language-use? If it did, wouldn‘t all the events, down to quite<br />
miniscule details, occurring in the world in association with the given action, be included in the referencestatement?<br />
If this doesn‘t happen then one would need to know how it is possible for the world to select<br />
aspects of the action for inclusion in the statement and omit others. Perhaps particular actions or subjects<br />
themselves undertake such discrimination. Can a dog determine how we shall speak of it? Or can ‗running‘<br />
408
determine that we now state that it — ‗running‘ – is being instanced in the dog? If discrimination is not<br />
undertaken by the particulars referred to in our statements, then what undertakes it? Is there a central faculty<br />
of discrimination in the external world, which simultaneously and unceasingly determines all the statements<br />
of billions of human beings? This is surely improbable.<br />
Is human intention the determinant? While it can be said that human beings undertake the semantic<br />
discrimination and selection necessary to produce statements, human intention does not appear in these<br />
statements. The most obvious example is the capacity of human beings to l<strong>ie</strong>: they can misrepresent their<br />
actions and intentions in language. In effect, they can hide their intentions ‗behind‘ language. Furthermore,<br />
they can misrepresent the world. It is possible to present statements that have no actual referents. Again, this<br />
fact of non-reference will not appear in such statements. Now, if the l<strong>ie</strong> does not appear in statements, then<br />
the corollary is that the truth does not appear in statements either. That is, the intention to tell the truth or<br />
make true reference does not appear in statements. The assertion ‗This statement is true.‘ does not make the<br />
statement true. The assertion of truth remains an assertion. Even the products of the most rigorous logical or<br />
forensic analysis are not in themselves true: they remain linguistic statements outside human assertion.<br />
If language-use is not determined from outside by either human intention or the external world, it<br />
must then be determined from within. In order to isolate the determinant it would be well to ask what the<br />
purpose of determination in language is. The primary purpose of language is to communicate. And in order<br />
to communicate, statements must be meaningful. What is determined, then, is meaningfulness. But what<br />
determines meaning? I have already indicated the three elements that govern language-use: signification,<br />
syntax and semantics. But these elements only permit language-use, they do not determine it. There is only<br />
one element remaining, meaning: it seems that meaning determines meaning.<br />
It is clear that untrue statements possess meaning: they can be communicated; and it is also clear<br />
that the meaningfulness of a statement is not in itself the truth of that statement. Nor is it the reference value<br />
or accuracy of a statement. This means that the meaningfulness of a statement is independent of human<br />
intention and of the external world. In that case, meaning must be a purely linguistic phenomenon, arising in<br />
language and always situated in language. Meaning is not put into statements, as though language were<br />
meaningless until meaning is added. Correct within certain permissive tolerances, syntactic and semantic,<br />
meaningful statements are simply meaningful. Nor does meaning ‗leak‘ out of language. The<br />
meaningfulness of a statement does not put meaning into the actual world, nor does it reflect a meaning in<br />
human intention. The actual world and human intention can be made meaningful only by turning them into<br />
signs. But, even so, signification has no immediate effect on either the actual world or on human intention:<br />
meaning does not change what they are intrinsically. This can be seen in the context of human action, where<br />
a meaningful communication can have an effect which combines intention and actuality. To say ‗I am<br />
watching the sun set.‘ while one is looking out a window is not to turn an action into a statement. The<br />
physical activity involved does not appear in the statement; it is only designated by signs. Thus a human act<br />
is meaningful to the extent that it is made into the sign-equivalent of a meaningful statement, but the act<br />
itself is not a sign activity, that is, linguistic articulation.<br />
Moreover, even in communication meaning remains self-referential. Questions about the meaning<br />
of a statement lead always to the generation of statements of equivalent meaning, either a single statement<br />
or a group of statements which explains, defines or elaborates the meaning of the original statement. (Notice<br />
that only statements can be meaningful, that is, can be communicated effectively. A subject in itself is not<br />
meaningful; it must always be articulated, that is, possess relations.)<br />
Meaning has two characteristics. One, meaning only appears in signification. To discover meaning<br />
is to discover signs. Two, the meaning of statements is fixed. All explications of the meaning of a statement<br />
will retain the meaning of that statement. This is the case even where the meaning is explicated by means of<br />
logical symbolism, reference to the actual world, or translation into other languages. The symbols used in<br />
explication can differ totally from the signs in the statement, but they will remain signs and convey an<br />
equivalent meaning. But it is obvious that there is a sense in which an equivalent statement is another signsystem<br />
is different from the original statement. How then is meaning retained? We might say that meaning<br />
is retained because the translator of the statement can recognise the equivalence of the original statement to<br />
the translated version. But such an equivalence of the original statement cannot always be detailed in terms<br />
of the respective system of signs. Word order, the physical appearance of the signs can differ greatly — as<br />
between, say, English and Chinese — to the extent that no equivalence other than the meaning itself exists.<br />
This suggests that while meaning always appears as signification, it is not t<strong>ie</strong>d to any particular set of signs.<br />
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More, in certain circumstances, as in the case of translation between very different sign-systems, meaning<br />
appears, to only for an instant, to float free of signification altogether.<br />
However, this freedom of meaning from signification can be seen in a more general phenomenon.<br />
Where does the meaning which establishes a set of equivalent statements reside? Not in any given statement<br />
of the set, for no statement of the set conveys the meaning of the set in a more full or complete way, for then<br />
the equivalent statements would not be equivalent. This being the case, then the relation between meaning<br />
and signification becomes problematical. It is obvious that in any of the equivalent statements the meaning<br />
is conveyed in signification. And to explicate the meaning of the set of equivalent statements is to convey<br />
meaning in signification. Even to answer the question such sets of equivalent statements raises — ‗What is<br />
the meaning common to this set of equivalent statements?‘ — is to choose from the equivalent statements or<br />
to generate a new — but equivalent — statement. That is, any attempt to answer the question involves<br />
signification.<br />
Yet — that such a question is possible impl<strong>ie</strong>s that some notion of a meaning common to all<br />
statements of the set is possible. And though this common meaning can only be expressed in signification,<br />
by means of equivalent statements, it would seem that at some level of abstraction from particular instances<br />
of signification, the notion of a common meaning can be grasped. If only in a vague way — which can only<br />
be expressed (signif<strong>ie</strong>d) in the form of a general question which avoids instancing (signifying) the meaning<br />
about which the question is asked — meaning appears to float free of signification. Thus the situation here<br />
is similar to that noticed in the case of the translation of statements. It shows that by simply attempting to<br />
compare two equivalent statements expressed in similar signs, syntax and language raises the question of<br />
common meaning.<br />
(It should be noted at this point that language can be used in ordinary circumstances without this<br />
question of free meaning arising. This is because we receive our language complete with sets of equivalents,<br />
together with semantic rule for their use and comparison, and the syntactical techniques for generating new<br />
equivalent statements.)<br />
It is clear that the question ‗What is the meaning common to a set of equivalent statements?‘<br />
cannot be answered, for any answer (signification) would reduce the commonality to a particular instance.<br />
But while the common meaning in itself cannot be expressed, it is clear that any one of the statements of the<br />
set is intrinsically the paradigm of all the other statements of the set. Thus the common ‗linear‘ model of the<br />
paradox called ‗Frege‘s paradox‘ is not a true image of the nature of meaning. Instead of an ‗eternal flight<br />
of meaning‘ leading endlessly (and futilely) from one instance of signification to another, it is rather the<br />
case of a two-axes structure: a circle of signif<strong>ie</strong>d meaning — a set of equivalent statements — as a<br />
horizontal axis, and a vertical axis of free meaning, which though it can be expressed only indirectly in the<br />
form of a general question, cannot itself be signif<strong>ie</strong>d. There is no paradox here: it is an indication of the<br />
boundary of language as a practical instrument of communication.<br />
Furthermore, this condition of equivalence is a dialectical one. Practically, the meaning of a<br />
statement is complete as complete as is appropriate to an instrument of communication. The meaning here is<br />
the signification and requires no reference beyond itself. But no statement is a unique statement of meaning,<br />
for when we receive our language we receive sets of equivalent statements, not paradigmatic or definitive<br />
statements. This is the dialectical condition of equivalence: a statement is meaningful in itself, but at the<br />
same time its meaning can only be grasped by means of equivalent statements. Thus a meaningful statement<br />
is simultaneously complete and incomplete. Put otherwise, a meaningful statement is complete but it is not<br />
unique. There are two points here. One: it appears now that the quite ordinary, and frequently asked,<br />
question ‗What is the meaning of this statement?‘ or ‗What is the meaning of A?‘ is ultimately, like the<br />
general question about common meaning, a question about free meaning, and which therefore, strictly,<br />
cannot be answered. And two, though we cannot formulate a unique statement, we can nevertheless grasp<br />
the uniqueness that l<strong>ie</strong>s behind language. This means that we cannot tell all that we know.<br />
Language, then, is a collection of incomplete, and incompleteable, sets of equivalent statements.<br />
The use of these equivalent sets is governed permissively by rules, syntactical and semantic, and by the<br />
practical concerns of language-users. The only constant in language is meaning. Syntactical and semantic<br />
rules can vary and change, and the practical ends which language can serve are, as I will show later,<br />
discontinuous. But the constant in language is not this or that meaning. While a set of equivalent statements<br />
could be endlessly expanded, thus conveying endlessly the meaning common to that set, a whole set could<br />
become redundant in practical terms — though never in terms of syntax or semantics, there never could be<br />
the situation where a given meaning could no longer be expressed in language — and the meaning common<br />
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to that set could disappear from use. As well as this, changes in semantics could change the common<br />
meaning of a set, or could split or even splinter the set, so that where there had been one set there would<br />
now be two or more sets, each with a different common meaning.<br />
The question that arises now, of course, is : ‗What is meaning?‘ One answer is: ‗Meaning is what<br />
language conveys,‘ But this is only a formal definition of communication, that is, practical language-use.<br />
Another answer is to define meaning in terms of semantics: ‗Meaning is an instance of semantic order.‘ But<br />
the effect here is to subordinate an instance to an abstraction which had been drawn posteriorly from such<br />
instances. It is true that equivalent statements are not drawn from meaning as such, because any instance of<br />
meaning is complete as that particular statement, but are generated by reference to semantic rules of<br />
equivalence, that there are synonyms for subjects and attributes. But it is the meaning of the original<br />
statement that determines what the semantic equivalences are and the resulting equivalent statement is tested<br />
by reference to that meaning. Thus the meaning of any statement is in the first instance that meaning, which<br />
is its completeness, and secondly statements of equivalent meaning, which is its incompleteness. In that<br />
case, the question can only be a question about meaning of the form ‗What is the meaning of A?‘,<br />
specifically, ‗What is the meaning of meaning?‘ But as I have shown above, except by the generation of<br />
equivalent statements, it is impossible to answer this question.<br />
However, there is one exceptional feature to this question. In the case of all other questions<br />
concerning the meaning of statements, the meaning common to the respective sets of equivalent statements<br />
can be grasped vaguely as something independent of the statements. In the case of the above question this<br />
seems to be impossible, for the question seems to be unique. This uniqueness can be indicated in several<br />
ways. In the first place, the question is a constant or eternal question: so long as there is language the<br />
question can be asked, which is not necessarily true of any other set of equivalent statements. Secondly, the<br />
question is tautological, such that, strictly, the question cannot be asked unless the answer is already known.<br />
Thirdly, the question is not about a commonality, but about a particularity, precisely because it is both a<br />
tautological and eternal question.<br />
Now, if the question is reformulated in the following way it becomes possible to push the veil back<br />
a little further. To ask ‗What is the meaning of meaning?‘ appears to be of the form ‗ is the meaning<br />
common to the set of equivalent statements(‗meaning‘, etc)?‘ But the question is tautological, so it can be<br />
reformulated thus:<br />
‗What is the set (‗meaning‘, etc) of the set (‗meaning‘, etc )?<br />
But this is a shortened version of the question:<br />
‗What is the meaning common to the set (‗meaning‘, etc) of the meaning common to the set<br />
(‗meaning‘, etc)?‘<br />
We can reduce this again to another short form:<br />
‗What is the meaning common to common-meaning?‘<br />
There is a h<strong>ie</strong>rarchy here. Questions about the meaning common to sets of equivalent statements<br />
lead one to grasp the free meaning of these sets, and to exemplify this free meaning by means of one or<br />
other of the equivalent statements. But the question about the meaning common to ‗common-meaning‘ leads<br />
one to examples of free meaning itself. One is led to equivalent meaning, of course, but this time to the<br />
equivalent-meaning of the set of common-meanings of sets of equivalent statements. Thus, while the<br />
question ‗What is the meaning of meaning?‘ does not lead one to grasp the free meaning of the set<br />
(‗meaning‘, etc), because it is tautological, as other uses of the formula ‗What is the meaning of A?‘ do, but<br />
restricts one to the level of equivalence, this level is supra-linguistic the equivalence here is not that<br />
pertaining necessarily to signification, but is instead an equivalence among the free meanings which float<br />
free of linguistic equivalence. Thus:<br />
meaning of meaning free or common meaning signif<strong>ie</strong>d sets of<br />
equivalent statements<br />
Even so, this diagram notwithstanding, the free meaning of meaning cannot be grasped. One falls<br />
either to the level of the equivalence of common meanings, as vaguely grasped free meanings, or to a<br />
tautology. One is tempted to say that, therefore, meaning has no identity in itself, that meaning exists only in<br />
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other statements at the level of equivalence (signification) or vaguely grasped free meaning that cannot be<br />
signif<strong>ie</strong>d. But there seems to be no problem in discussing the free or common meanings of sets of equivalent<br />
statements, even though these identit<strong>ie</strong>s cannot be signif<strong>ie</strong>d and can only appear in the form of general<br />
questions. On an analogy with this, one can say that while the question of the meaning of meaning cannot<br />
even be grasped as the other questions can, nonetheless the possibility of the question — that it can be<br />
asked — indicates that there is something to which it refers, even if we cannot grasp it. All that can be said<br />
at this stage is that the question ‗What is the meaning of meaning?‘ is a unique question; if it is empty as a<br />
tautology, it is also an eternal question and one about a particularity.<br />
It seems, therefore, that while there cannot be a unique statement, there is at least one unique<br />
question. A question, moreover, that marks the extreme limit of our understanding of language.<br />
The commonsense v<strong>ie</strong>w of language, as a system of reference subordinated to actuality, is<br />
conditioned by this elusiveness of meaning. The transparency of language permits us to bel<strong>ie</strong>ve in the<br />
reality of an externality filled with self-expressive space, time, direction, objects and events. But it has been<br />
shown that language is about externality only to the extent that the actual is designated. And because<br />
language-use is ultimately not determined by actuality – so that language is free with respect to the world –<br />
such designation is arbitrary. This means that actuality is not self-expressive, that is, not meaningful in<br />
itself: the referent of a noun, say, is not an object represented by the word; it is a mirror-sign which reflects<br />
an earl<strong>ie</strong>r use of the noun. Actuality is meaningful only because language can be meaningful; in effect, our<br />
practical designations translate meaning to externality — not to actuality itself, but to the signification we<br />
lay upon it. Thus it is language that provides the coherence of our exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of actuality. It gives us our<br />
practical world: a dialectical, undetermined and completely malleable system of designation that l<strong>ie</strong>s<br />
between meaningfulness on one hand and unknowable actuality on the other. Practically, language is used<br />
as arbitrary designation determined by human intention. But linguistically, language is a system of<br />
designation made possible by meaning, that is, communication. Here communication or meaning is primary<br />
because, though human intention determines the designation in statements, designation is arbitrary.<br />
Moreover, because designation is arbitrary, our world is not a totality – designation is not abiding, the<br />
human world is always changing. Instead, the world appears in each instance of language-use as a<br />
totalisation. Such totalisations are possible only because meaningful statements are in themselves complete.<br />
What makes possible our sense of continuity in our world is the fact that, unlike designation, meaning<br />
survives its instantaneous presence in a statement because it is always equivalent meaning. The externality<br />
we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce is a network of equivalences, present to us in any instance of communication and continuous<br />
because of the latency of equivalent meaning.<br />
The fundamental misunderstanding in our attitude to cultural ideas can be indicated from the<br />
perspective of the analysis of meaning I have given. To begin with, to the extent that we hold the<br />
commonsense v<strong>ie</strong>w of language we assume that our ideas refer to an externality already ordered and<br />
meaningful in itself. Thus we speak of beauty, goodness, God, hope and truth as though they were objects<br />
distinct from the words articulated. But, for reasons to do with the nature of human action, which I will<br />
discuss later, we find ourselves forced to go further and treat our ideas as something like Platonic Ideas, The<br />
Good, The Beautiful, The True, and so on. We might escape the illusion of an objectif<strong>ie</strong>d externality here,<br />
but we cannot avoid the myths of being and existence, so that the effect is to reproduce objectivity in our<br />
thought, now refined as Idealism. Given this situation, it is no wonder that on the one hand our cultural<br />
ideas appear to be changeless and on the other that our cultural practice always appears in the mode of<br />
tragic failure.<br />
There are two points here. One. Cultural practice always fails because at the level of Idealism<br />
language cannot be regarded as a system of arbitrary designation, and as such cannot be tested in the human<br />
world, hence our ideas must be performative, they must be what they say, that is, because they cannot refer<br />
to the human world, they must themselves be their own worlds, pure self-referential objects. Two. Even so,<br />
though our cultural ideas cannot be tested in human practice, they can be grasped as meaningful statements.<br />
Such statements can be regarded as performative because meaning resides in statements as equivalence, not<br />
as description, so that meaning of itself does not draw attention to the world. Moreover, meaning is neither<br />
true nor false; it is presence as opposed to absence, meaningfulness as opposed to meaninglessness. It is<br />
because a meaningful statement is in itself complete, and is communicated as such, that cultural ideas, taken<br />
in isolation, can be made to appear simultaneously reference and referent. It is the completeness of a<br />
meaningful statement that permits the illusion that such a statement is self- referential.<br />
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The nature of the truth of our cultural ideas can be understood now. They appear compellingly true<br />
because our world always fails them. Thus they appear to us changeless — Platonic Ideas which express<br />
themselves on a plane above our world. But what in fact we do is confuse meaning and truth: we seek to<br />
assert the meaning of a statement as the truth of that statement. But meaning in itself cannot be asserted, nor<br />
can it be judged, for meaningful statements are simply meaningful, not, in terms of meaning, true or false.<br />
Further, because of this error, our evaluations, elaborations and proofs of these ideas are not matters of<br />
truth, but merely the generation of equivalent statements. Logic is analytical; it is the generation of<br />
equivalent statements.<br />
Even so, our cultural ideas are assertions, and as such they are rhetorical in disguise. They are<br />
disguised because they pose as statements of reference, when they are simply persuasive. Rhetoric is the<br />
practice of persuasion, which deliberately generates meaning to practical ends, to guide human actions. It<br />
operates through equivalent meaning and arbitrary designation, the only aspects of language that can be<br />
articulated: meaning as communication and designation as reference. Rhetoric exploits the utter plasticity of<br />
meaning and designation — the human world can be made to take on any form whatsoever — in order to<br />
manipulate human exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of actuality. On one hand, equivalent meaning can be generated in an<br />
overwhelming profusion (there is no economy in language, no scarcity): this is the art of simile and<br />
metaphor. On the other hand, the designations which arise in this endless generation of equivalent meaning<br />
can act freely as references to actuality, because designation is ultimately arbitrary and the human world is<br />
ultimately a world of signs.<br />
Rhetoric is efficacious for two reasons. One. The human world is not a totality; it is not fixed, once<br />
and for all. It is a totalisation, an instance which accords with human intentions at any moment. Such<br />
totalisations can be sweepingly inclusive, by means of designations such as ‗the universe —‗, or particular,<br />
by designating an individual event, such as ‗The dog runs.‘. Each is a totalisation: the whole human world<br />
appears in each at that instance. This is possible because designation is arbitrary, not performative. It does<br />
not touch actuality, nor can it affect actuality. Instead, it lays signs upon actuality: it isolates parts of that<br />
continuum for particular human purposes. It is here that rhetoric is practically efficacious. Signif<strong>ie</strong>d,<br />
actuality becomes an object for human action: in a sense it becomes an artefact – it is made by humans,<br />
albeit by means of language.<br />
Two. However, as I have shown, designation is secondary; rhetoric is a system of communication,<br />
that is, it operates through meaning. This is not immediately evident, because rhetoric presents itself as<br />
judgement: it always states or impl<strong>ie</strong>s what is the case. Thus it always appears as an instance arbitrary and<br />
dispositional. But what allows rhetorical assertions to appear persuasively true, and at the same time<br />
prevents them from transcending the arena of human activity, in the way cultural ideas do, is meaning. On<br />
one hand, each instance of meaning is complete, thus in isolation this completeness can masquerade as<br />
truth. On the other, meaning is always equivalent: what is uttered here is received there as equivalence. By<br />
exploiting the dialectical nature of meaning, that is it simultaneously complete and incomplete, rhetoric<br />
gives a secure basis for human actions. For in its completeness, a meaningful statement makes possible the<br />
totalisation of the human world, freezing in this instance the arbitrariness of designation, and by the<br />
equivalence of meaning such a statement can be communicated, permitting men to act together for one<br />
another by means of this totalisation.<br />
The nature of the truth of our cultural ideas can be seen in greater detail now. Exploiting the nature<br />
of meaning and designation, the purpose of rhetoric is to motivate, direct, signal operations and<br />
acknowledge the completion of human actions. But the rhetorical intention of cultural ideas intercepts these<br />
practical ends. At the level of meaning, the cultural ideas draw attention to themselves rather than directing<br />
our attention to practical activity in the world. This is done by making the completeness of meaning which<br />
resides in any meaningful statement appear as unique. It is this sense of uniqueness, of oneness, that we<br />
mistakenly grasp as truth. Bewitched by uniqueness, we see the different formulations of these ideas<br />
generated over the centur<strong>ie</strong>s as expressions of a unique meaning, with each formulation numinous as an<br />
isolated instance of unique meaning. But it is clear what has happened here. We have selected an instance of<br />
equivalent meaning, on the basis of primordiality or authority, and made it on one level the paradigm<br />
statement of a circle of equivalent statements, and on another, supposedly higher, level, have turned this<br />
paradigm into an expression of the free meaning of the circle of equivalent meaning. That is, we have tr<strong>ie</strong>d<br />
to give expression to the free meaning that floats above equivalent meanings, which on the analysis given<br />
above is impossible, for every expression of meaning can only be equivalent meaning. Thus our claim for<br />
the truth of these ideas is false: one, particular statements are complete in their meaning, but they are not<br />
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unique; and two, meaning itself is not judgeable, it is neither true nor false, only presence as opposed to<br />
absence.<br />
In this circumstance it is obvious that designation does not signify actuality, but becomes a<br />
representation of the truth, the unique meaning, we bel<strong>ie</strong>ve our cultural ideas possess. Here designation is<br />
seen to simultaneously succeed and fail. Its success l<strong>ie</strong>s in its apparently full representation of the contents<br />
of our ideas. Thus the term ‗the good‘ in statements of our ideas is regarded as the perfect representative of<br />
the Ideal ‗The Good‘, a kind of transparent symbol which permits the symbolised object to appear immediately<br />
in the utterance. But designation is not representation, it is signification, where the designated ‗object‘<br />
becomes a sign. Of course, designation is a closed system, of signs reflecting signs, a world of mirrors. But<br />
while practical designation enables human activity in actuality, our ideal cultural designation remains a<br />
purely formal affair. In practical terms, ideal designation is a system of self-reference, where, for instance,<br />
the term ‗the good‘ rises as designation only to point back to itself. In effect, designation becomes<br />
performance, the sign becomes an object. The failure of such designation is unavoidable. Not intended to<br />
enable human action, any human activity that is undertaken on account of these ideas must always fail. On<br />
one hand, the creation of artefacts for our ideas to represent is not required; our ideas represent themselves.<br />
On the other, in practical terms, to seek in any case to find objects where there are only signs is to<br />
misunderstand the human world. The failure here is the terrible error of bel<strong>ie</strong>ving, one, that there are objects<br />
in the human world, and two, that we are subjects who can act on or towards such objects, for here we enter<br />
a hall of mirrors, where in a trap of self-reflection action becomes ecstatic, ritualistic or obsessive. In effect,<br />
our ideas attempt to designate essences. But to try to isolate an essence in actuality, ideally or practically, is<br />
like trying to isolate free meaning: any attempt to refer to it leads, in the latter case, to the generation of<br />
statements of equivalence, and in the former case, to further arbitrary designations. Language does not leak:<br />
it always remains language, that is, equivalent meaning and arbitrary designation; it represents neither truth<br />
nor objects.<br />
The existence of cultural ideas indicates a deep need in us. We seek to grasp and fix as eternal and<br />
unchanging our exper<strong>ie</strong>nce as a totality. Of course, statements can be formulated which designate a totality;<br />
after all, designation is arbitrary and meaning is complete in instance. But such statements are in themselves<br />
only totalisations, practically of use in directing human action. The mistake we make is in forgetting this, in<br />
treating the designation in our ideas as representation and the instance of meaningfulness as truth. But we<br />
betray our intuition of this where no attempt is made to actualise these ideas, where our preoccupation with<br />
these ideas remains a literary activity giving an abstract aesthetic pleasure. But there are others who attempt<br />
to actualise them, founders of religions, moral tyrants, neurotic artists, whose efforts consistently fail. And<br />
there are those who bel<strong>ie</strong>ve in these attempts at actualisations: those who submit themselves to dogmas, who<br />
narrow their lives, and those who turn art into fetish; that is, all those who subordinate their actions to ideas,<br />
who fail to understand that designation serves actions, not vice versa.<br />
By considering the nature of human action we can see further into why we have such a need for<br />
totalit<strong>ie</strong>s. Because it is by means of rhetorical assertion that we undertake action, we can understand human<br />
action only in terms of rhetoric, for it is rhetoric, that is, language, which makes human action possible. To<br />
some extent our understanding of our actions is like our understanding of actuality itself: we can read only<br />
the signs we have laid upon our actions. But because action is performance, we designate actions in terms of<br />
their completeness. Thus actions are always posteriorly defined, and the repetition of an action is formally<br />
an equivalent of a previously defined action. Notice that this differs from the case of meaning. There is a<br />
primordial action, while there cannot be primordial meaning, only primordial utterance. This is because<br />
each action is unique. There are a number of points here.<br />
Because an action is defined posteriorly — an action is a ser<strong>ie</strong>s of motions which must have a final<br />
motion in order that it can be isolated as an action: thus the primordial action cannot be known until it is<br />
complete — the completeness of an action is primarily a matter of designation: that the act is thus.<br />
Designation is significance laid upon motions in actuality, which isolates certain motions as being the act,<br />
and so disregards other motions, but without contending that they are not part of the act as a constellation of<br />
motions. Thus we define lifting a chair without regard for the macro- or micro-motions which are necessary<br />
parts of the action in actuality.<br />
That designation is primary here is to be expected: an action, as such, is not a communication. We<br />
act, undertake physical motions, on actuality: there is ‗no one‘ on the other side to receive meaning in such<br />
motions, because actuality is unresponsive, inexpressive, and therefore unknown to us. This is why an<br />
action is unique. It cannot be equivalent to other actuality actions as meaning is equivalent, because<br />
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actuality cannot receive or express meaning. That is why the equivalence of repeated actions is designatory:<br />
designation is arbitrary, there can be no continuity between repeated designations; this is possible only at<br />
the level of communication, that is, meaning.<br />
It is against this uniqueness of action that we posit the uniqueness of our ideas, that is, seek to posit<br />
a unique meaning against the arbitrariness of designation which action underlines. An emphasis on human<br />
action, we feel, would expose us not only to the complete fragmentation of exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, but also put us at the<br />
mercy of an unknown and unnameable actuality. There is a sense in which we abandon ourselves in action:<br />
action is a kind of death. But to fear this necessary commitment to action — necessary because in any case<br />
we are always in action — is to misunderstand the nature of our disposition to our actions. The<br />
abandonment we exper<strong>ie</strong>nce in action is the abandonment of meaning. But we can abandon meaning<br />
without danger, because meaning for us is always equivalent meaning — we can let meaning go and take it<br />
up again as equivalence. We always do this, for meaning exists only in communication, which is a cycle of<br />
expression (letting go) and reception (taking up). Again, we can enter into action without fear, because in<br />
doing so we enter into designation, and designation is arbitrary. The designation we overlay on an action is<br />
exhausted upon completion of that action: thus we cannot get lost in designation, as designation, because it<br />
is only the signs that guide our actions. When we complete the action, exhaust the designation, we return to<br />
meaning, because it is by means of meaningful statements that we initiate action, undertake operations and<br />
signal the completion of action.<br />
Once again, this time from the perspective of action, we can see why attempts to actualise our<br />
ideas always fail. They are attempts to make meaning designatory. But designation is arbitrary and so is,<br />
like action, discontinuous, while meaning is equivalent and therefore continuous. Conceived as totalit<strong>ie</strong>s,<br />
though in fact totalisations, our ideas can only appear at the level of meaning. That means, because they<br />
cannot become designations, which would in practical terms show them to be totalisations, they must<br />
remain apart from action. But at the same time it is our perception of the nature of our actions that<br />
determines the nature we claim for our ideas. Action is determinative here because it is what we necessarily<br />
exper<strong>ie</strong>nce, we are always in action, while, as this paper shows, we have no analogical exper<strong>ie</strong>nce of our<br />
ideas, and cannot have. Now, it is the equivalence of meaning that gives us our sense of continuity, both<br />
historical continuity and interpersonal continuity, of our ideas, and it is our intuition of free meaning that<br />
gives us our sense of the uniqueness, that is, the eternality, of our ideas. But all we are doing here is<br />
mistaking elements of language itself and attributing them in a confused way to the contents of our ideas. In<br />
effect, while we make meaning designatory, we ascribe to the designations in our ideas what properly<br />
belongs to meaning as a linguistic phenomenon. Thus we simultaneously ascribe to, say, ‗the good‘, the<br />
attributes of uniqueness and continuity to produce the bel<strong>ie</strong>f that such a sign is eternal and changeless. In<br />
doing so we turn designation into self-reference: we turn a sign into both an object, that is, a referent, and a<br />
reference, making the sign at once a thing-in-itself and its own transparent symbol.<br />
Where there is the failure to understand the nature of human action, such a tendency is perhaps to<br />
be expected, and to the extent that such idealisation remains an abstraction it can do no great harm. For<br />
those who need it, it gives a sense of complete knowledge, that the human world is already a totality, so that<br />
action can be seen as superfluous or unnecessary. But there is always the temptation to actualise our ideas,<br />
that is, to make the articulation of our ideas a performance in itself. To assert a real continuity of our ideas<br />
from the past, as legitimation of those ideas, or assert their uniqueness or eternality, as the source of their<br />
value, is to fall, deliberately — in order to mislead — or through error, into a dangerous illusion. To act on<br />
the authority of such an illusion leads, as I have pointed out, to the tragedy of unavoidable failure or to the<br />
terror of self-reflection, the fetishism of objectification and ecstatic, obsessive or ritualistic behaviour.<br />
Our culture, then, is our rhetoric of living. It serves specific purposes, effective only in our actions.<br />
The past does not determine our actions, it only permits them, and we are under no burden of an ideal<br />
eternality that cannot be put into action, The present is always free — whether this is recognised or not. We<br />
make our own world — we are always totalising it — through our actions. Thus we are responsible for it at<br />
every instant. And we discharge our responsibility by understanding that an action is not the reception of<br />
meaning. On one hand, the reception of meaning is only the recognition of meaningful signs, and on the<br />
other, an action is only motions in actuality, and actuality is inexpressive, it conveys no meaning. In a sense,<br />
our actions are like questions, rather than statements or assertions, so that the success of an action appears<br />
to us as an answer. But it is important to understand that we do not receive these answers from actuality, but<br />
from the human world we overlay as signification on actuality. In this way we avoid the seductive trap of<br />
regarding action as a mere reflection of our assertions, And the fact that we can repeat actions and can come<br />
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to predict their results, that is, that we can repeat our questions and predict the answers we will receive,<br />
does not imply on one hand a ritualisation of our actions or on the other that we are proving anything about<br />
actuality, that it is of such and such a character. We only prove to ourselves that our human world holds up,<br />
that our rhetoric, our use of language, is effective, But that our world holds up does not prove it true; it<br />
indicates only that our manifold totalisations have allowed for the continuity of human actions. Thus the<br />
success of our actions is the nearest thing to what we desire as truth that is available to us, and it is by this<br />
success that we discharge our responsibility.<br />
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