The Totems of Abydos - By John Norman Page 0,75

wish, and there is no measuring rod or standard internal to the organism with which to appraise these subsequently produced human artifacts. For example, those of the home world, the behavioral engineers, and such, seem to suppose that everyone would choose to produce the same engineered products as themselves, but that is certainly not necessarily the case. It would be just as easy, it seems, if what they believe is true, to produce populations with values quite other than those which they approve, indeed, populations with quite diverse, and perhaps even antithetical, sets of values. Moreover, there would seem to be, from their point of view, no more justification for one of these value sets than for another, except perhaps that one might be found distasteful to them, given their values, as theirs might be found distasteful to others, given their values. It is as easy to fill the hollow body with venom as it is syrup. It is as easy to write cruelty and terror upon the blank tablet as platitudes and nursery rhymes.”

“Go on,” said Brenner.

“I was curious about men,” she said. “I wondered what it would be, to be touched by them, to be held in their arms, to serve them, to have to obey them, to be owned by them.”

“Such are forbidden feminine impulses,” said Brenner, shocked.

“‘Feminine’ in the old sense,” she said.

“Yes,” agreed Brenner. ‘Feminine’ in the new sense meant, in effect, what ‘masculine’ used to mean in the old sense. On the other hand, as would be expected, ‘masculine’ on the home world now meant, in effect, what ‘feminine’ used to mean, in the old sense. These linguistic alterations were portions of the conditioning programs through which children were forced. To be sure, as we have suggested, these linguistic “reforms,” despite their political expedience, had not been successful. People tended to find new words for the old things. People, on the whole, continued to fit language to reality rather than reality to language. In such matters, reality continued to have the last word, so to speak.

“And forbidden, of course,” she said, “because they are very real.”

“Else there would be no point in disparaging such impulses, or attempting to prohibit them,” said Brenner.

“Precisely,” she said.

“But surely you are an unusual woman,” said Brenner, “that you would have such disgusting and terrible attitudes, or needs, or impulses.”

“Why are they disgusting or terrible?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Brenner. Once again, he didn’t. Once again, it seemed, something had spoken from him, which was not him. “But undoubtedly,” he said, “you are almost unique.”

“But why then the pervasiveness of the denunciations, all the social care taken to deny, or, if that is unsuccessful, to frustrate, suppress, and thwart such impulses?”

“I do not know,” said Brenner.

“I am sure they are widespread,” she said. “To be sure, most women live in terror of them, in fear of them. They are taught to pretend that such things, deep and meaningful within them, do not exist, or, if they sense them in themselves, that they must be ashamed of themselves, for being what they are. So the women think they are alone, and each feels isolated and miserable.”

“You think there are others like you?”

“Of course!” she said.

“Why then do we not hear more of this?” asked Brenner.

“Surely you do not mean in the media, which is controlled by the parties, by the establishments?”

“No,” he said.

“Many women fear to express these things,” she said, “and even those in whom they are recurrent and powerful, not just latent and insinuative, lurking in the shadows. Indeed, these things are so fearful to many that they attempt to prohibit them from even reaching consciousness, and they must do so in distorted ways, in mistakes of the tongue and pen, in recurrent images and thoughts, and, of course, in dreams, those doors to half-kept secrets.”

“How came you to contract?” asked Brenner.

“I made the mistake, if mistake it was,” she said, “of speaking of these things privately to certain friends, or those I thought were friends. I was reported to the local morality board. I should have denied everything, I suppose, but I did not. Rather I sought advice and counsel. I was given a stern scolding, and warning. Later, when I again appeared before the board, as was required, as I had been placed on probation, I was remanded to therapy, and, months later, by a higher board, to institutionalization. I tried to cure myself, but could not. Perhaps I should have pretended to be cured,

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