Babel-17

by Samuel R. Delany

“The word you four times, yes? Still nothing unclear, and you means nothing.” She sighed. “That’s because I was using the word phatically—ritually, without regard for its real meaning…as a figure of speech. Look, I asked you a question that you couldn’t answer.” The Butcher frowned. “See, you have to know what they mean to make sense out of what I just said. The best way to learn a language is by listening to it. So listen. When you”—she pointed to him—“said to me,” and she pointed to herself, “Knowing what ships to destroy, and ships are destroyed. Now to go down the Dragon’s Tongue, Jebel go down the Dragon’s Tongue, twice the fist—” she touched his left hand—“banged the chest.” She raised his hand to his chest. The skin was cool and smooth under her palm. “The fist was trying to tell something. And if you had used the word ‘I,’ you wouldn’t have had to use your fist. What you wanted to say was: ‘You knew what ships to destroy, and I destroyed the ships. You want to go down the Dragon’s Tongue; I will get Jebel down the Dragon’s Tongue.’ ” The Butcher frowned. “Yes, the fist to tell something.” “Don’t you see? Sometimes you want to say things, and you’re missing an idea to make them with, and missing a word to make the idea with. In the beginning was the word. That’s how somebody tried to explain it once. Until something is named, it doesn’t exist. And it’s something the brain needs to have exist, otherwise you wouldn’t have to beat your chest, or strike your fist on you...