I remember reporting to the friends what I’d heard the old lady say, and wondering who it was she was faulting for being a sodomizing pig. I immediately assumed she was engaged in imaginary commerce with some nasty phantasm, one that she had derived either from her immediate present or some point in her past. Perhaps she saw someone walk by who looked to her like he deserved the epithet. Or perhaps she was speaking to some ghost of a traumatic past that had broken through her addled psychic defenses. In either case, the presumption was that she was engaged in a direct dialogue. But then it hit me that perhaps there was no imaginary interlocutor and therefore no dialogue. Maybe in the breakdown of her defenses something else broke through: not a phantasm but indirect discourse, the so-called “order-word” in its aspect of pure death sentence…
October 22, 2011
Monomania east of Adelaide: 2
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