More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
While telling them all the minute details, the gym teacher smiled shyly; Sasha understood immeditately why Group B seemed so happy, especially the girls.
That day Sasha missed her first gym class. She simply could not remain among the crowds, even at the gym, even with such a lovely teacher as Dima Dimych. Besides, Group A needed some time without her. They needed to discuss her in her absence. She understood perfectly well.
Sasha thought that Mom had changed as well: she seemed more cheerful, more relaxed, happier . . . less intelligent?
The first glance did not deceive her: the new exercises were similar to the old ones, but were substantially more complex. Multilevel transformation of entities, infinitely abstract, that sometimes formed a circle, sometimes compressed to a single point, but always seemed ready at any moment to break through and rip apart the fabric of visualized reality; if these were somebody else’s thoughts, they were so decidedly inhuman that Sasha was simply scared to imagine a brain naturally capable of producing these chimeras.
“We will do it one more time,” Portnov promised coldly. “Get ready.” “I worked on it . . .” “I am still hoping to see the result of that effort. You have one minute. Leave the room and try to concentrate.”
“‘What’s in a name? that which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet.’ In other words, the essence of an object does not change depending on its name. This is a common misconception, not unlike the ‘world is flat’ belief. By verbally identifying an object, by giving it a name, we alter it. And at the same time we prevent it from changing. A name is like a forked stick that we use to hold a snake on the ground.”
She opened the Textual Module and started reading from the beginning, from paragraph one. Repetition is the master of skill. No one had said she could not repeat things.
The institute was encased in a thick layer of informational insulation, and in two years Sasha had had plenty of chances to be sure of that. A protective layer of stable living conditions, coupled with tangible provincial mediocrity.
