From Strindberg's "The Ghost Sonata"
Took a break from Strindberg's "more strictly" autobiographical stuff (still have The Son of a Servant to read) to read a few plays. I started with The Ghost Sonata . Excerpt: COLONEL. Shall we make conversation? HUMMEL . [Speaking slowly and with frequent pauses ] Talk of the weather, which we know all about? Ask on another's state of health, which we know just as well? I prefer silence. Then thoughts become audible, and we can see the past. Silence can hide nothing -- but words can. I read the other day that the differentiation of languages had its origin in the tribal secrets hidden from outsiders. This means that every language is a code,...