Persistence of Vision by John Varley Read Free Book Online Page B

think of what else they might have done.
    Spanking grown people is :. really unheard of, you know, though that didn't occur to me until long after it had happened. It seemed so natural when it was going on that the thought couldn't even enter my mind that this was a weird situation to be in.
    They did something like this with the children, but not as long or as hard. Responsibility was lighter for the younger : ~a ones. The adults were willing to put up with an occasional bruise or scraped knee while the children learned.
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    [2/17/2004 11:43:30 AM]
    file:///G|/rah/John%20Varley%20-%20Persistence%20Of%20Vision.txt But when you reached what they thought of as adulthood-_ r which was whenever a majority of the adults thought you . had or when you assumed the privilege yourself-that's when the spanking really got serious.
    They had a harsher punishment, reserved for repeated or malicious offenses. They had not had to invoke it often. It consisted of being sent to Coventry. No one would touch you a for a specified period of time. By the time I heard of it, it sounded like a very tough penalty. I didn't need it explained to me.
    I don't know how to explain it, but the spanking was administered in such a loving way that I didn't feel violated. ;~ This hurts me as much as it hurts you. I'm doing this for your own good. I love you, that's why I'm spanking you They made me understand those old clich8a by their Page 19

    actions.
    When it was over, we all cried together. But it soon turned to happiness. I embraced Scar and we told each other how sorry we were that it had happened. We talked to each other-made love if you like-and I kissed her knee and helped her dress it.
    We spent the rest of the day together, easing the pain.
    As I became more fluent in handtalk, "the scales fell from my eyes." Daily, I would discover a new layer of meaning that had eluded me before; it was like peeling the skin of an onion to find a new skin beneath it. Each time I thought I was at the core, only to find that there was another layer I could not yet see.
    I had thought that learning handtalk was the key to communication with them. Not so.
    Handtalk was baby talk. For a long time I was a baby who could not even say goo-goo clearly.
    Imagine my surprise when, having learned to say it, I found that there were syntax, conjunctions, parts of speech, nouns, verbs, tense, agreement, and the subjunctive mood. I was wading in a tide pool at the edge of the Pacific Ocean.
    By handtalk I mean the International Manual Alphabet. Anyone can learn it in a few hours or days. But when you talk to someone in speech, do you spell each word? Do you read each letter as you read this? No, you grasp words as entities, hear groups of sounds and see groups of letters as a gestalt full of meaning.
    Everyone at Keller had an absorbing interest in language. They each knew several languages-spoken languages-and could read and spell them fluently.
    While still children they had understood the fact that handtalk was a way for deaf-blind people to talk to outsiders. Among themselves it was much too cumbersone. It was like Morse Code: useful when you're limited to on-off modes of information transmission, but not the preferred mode. Their ways of speaking to each other were much closer to our type of written or verbal communication, , and-dare I say it?-better.
    I discovered this slowly, first by seeing that though I could spell rapidly with my hands, it took much longer for me to say something than it took anyone else. It could not be explained by differences in dexterity. So I asked to be taught their shorthand speech. I plunged in, this time taught by everyone, not just Pink.
    It was hard. They could say any word in any language with no more than two moving hand positions. I knew this was a project for years, not days. You learn the alphabet and you have all the tools you need to spell any word that exists.