Second opinion

IT IS by no means unusual for words to change their meanings over time; and in Orwellian Newspeak, words come to mean the opposite of what they tradi- tionally meant. There is a complete divorce between the denotation and con- notation of common abstract words such as love and truth. But we in (or is it on?) Airstrip One are already abundantly familiar with the principles of Newspeak; and we need no Big Brother to impose them upon us. We do it for ourselves.

Take the word social as an example. In almost all its modern uses it actually means antisocial: for example, antisocial security, antisocial services, antisocial workers, antisocial housing, antisocial justice. Social means either psychopathic or giving aid and succour to psychopaths.

The sheer antisociability of the English, now that they have been grant- ed the freedom to behave as they choose, unfettered by either custom or law, still surprises me, I must confess. I should not have believed it had I not seen it — every day, year in, year out.

A young woman, aged 20, came to the casualty department last week with her scalp split open. Before arrival, she had managed to palm off her six-year-old son on a sister.

`Baseball bat?' I asked.

`No, broom handle,' she replied.

You could have knocked me down with a red-hot poker or machete.

`Boyfriend?' I continued.

`Yes, but he doesn't live with me.'

She burst into tears.

`He keeps seeing other women,' she sobbed.

`But of course he's jealous and posses- sive?'

`Yes.'

`He doesn't allow you out on your own, he searches your things, he doesn't like you to use the telephone, and he asks where you've been if you're five minutes late?'

`Yes.'

`Criminal record?'

`Armed robbery.'

`Drugs?'

`Used to.'

`Drink?'

`Sometimes.'

`Beats you?'

`Yes, often.'

`Attended hospital before?'

`Yes, he gashed my head open.'

`Your mother says serves you right, you've made your bed and now you lie on it, I never liked him from the begin- ning?'

`Yes.'

`He says he's sorry and it won't happen again?'

`Yes.'

`And you believe him, of course. Natu- rally, he's got children?'

`Two, maybe three.'

`What kind of man has two, maybe three children?' `I don't know.'

`And he's suggested you have a child by him?'

`Yes, I've always wanted a daughter for my son.'

`Did you ask him why he wants a child?'

`Yes, he said he'd never had a proper family. He said it would be something new for him.'

`You mean, he's never abandoned a proper family before, only isolated women and their children?'

`I suppose so.'

`Are you going to have a child by him?'

`I'm thinking about it.'

`What will life be like afterwards?' `What do you mean?'

Will he support his daughter in any way?'

`I don't know.'

`Surely he'll just bring a toy or some clothes now and again so that he can have sex with you or so that you'll give him a meal. He's not going to waste his money on his offspring, is he?'

`No.'

`Does he support any of his other chil- dren?'

`He takes them clothes sometimes.'

`So do you think it would be a good idea for you to have his child?'

`It's not because I want him as a father, it's just that I've always wanted a daughter.'

Judge not, that ye be not judgmental.

Theodore Dalrymple