Passage: Toru Dutt is considered the earliest Indian female writer in English. She travelled extensively in Europe from a young age with her family. She and her sister Aru became fascinated with Paris and French literature. In London, they came in contact with such august personages such as Sir Bartle Frere, the Gover- nor of Bombay from 1862 to 1867, and Sir Edward Ryan, the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, Calcutta, from 1837 to 1843. Toru Dutt was greatly influenced in her writings by French Romantic poets like Victor Hugo and English writers like Elizabeth Browning, John Keats, Charlotte Bronte and Jane Austen. She was also intrigued by the legends and myths of India, and even learned Sanskrit. Her writings were marked by romantic melancholia and an obsession and preoccupation with death. This was partly due to her suffering and pain following the early tragic deaths of her siblings, especially her older sister Aru, with whom she was quite close. Her chosen subjects often portrayed separation, loneliness, captivity, dejec- tion, declining seasons and untimely death. She led an ”Ivory Tower existence” and her own death came quite early, at the age of 21, in the full bloom of her talent and on the eve of the awakening of her genius. Toru Dutt’s most famous work is A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields, an anthology of poems translated from French to English. It also contained a few original poems that showcase her vast insight into French literature. She used to publish poems in the Bengal Magazine, under the pseudonym ”TD”. But most of her powerful work was published posthumously, in- cluding the French novel Le Journal de Mademoiselle D’Arvers and the unfinished English novel Bianca, or, the Young Spanish Maiden. Her work Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan depicts a shrewd knowledge of Hindu mythology and an instinctive empathy with the conditions of life they represent. An assimilation of the Occident and the Orient nourished Toru’s poetic skills; in her, we find a tripartite influence of a French education, lectures at Cambridge and the study of Sanskrit literature.


When people who are talking don’t share the same culture, knowledge, values, and assumptions, mutual understanding can be especially difficult. Such understanding is possible through the negotiation of meaning. To negotiate meaning with someone, you have to become aware of and respect both the differences in your backgrounds and when these differences are important. You need enough diversity of cultural and personal experience to be aware that divergent world views exist and what they might be like. You also need the flexibility in world view, and a generous tolerance for mistakes, as well as a talent for finding the right metaphor to communicate the relevant parts of unshared experiences or to highlight the shared experiences while demphasizing the others. Metaphorical imagination is a crucial skill in creating rapport and in communicating the nature of unshared experience. This skill consists, in large measure, of the ability to bend your world view and adjust the way you categorize your experiences. Problems of mutual understanding are not exotic; they arise in all extended conversations where understanding is important.
When it really counts, meaning is almost never communicated according to the CONDUIT metaphor, that is, where one person transmits a fixed, clear proposition to another by means of expressions in a common language, where both parties have all the relevant common knowledge, assumptions, values, etc. When the chips are down, meaning is negotiated: you slowly figure out what you have in common, what it is safe to talk about, how you can communicate unshared experience or create a shared vision. With enough flexibility in bending your world view and with luck and charity, you may achieve some mutual understanding.
Communication theories based on the CONDUIT metaphor turn from the pathetic to the evil when they are applied indiscriminately on a large scale, say, in government surveillance or computerized files. There, what is most crucial for real understanding is almost never included, and it is assumed that the words in the file have meaning in themselves—disembodied, objective, understandable meaning. When a society lives by the CONDUITmetaphor on a large scale, misunderstanding, persecution, and much worse are the likely products.
Later, I realized that reviewing the history of nuclear physics served another purpose as well: It gave the lie to the naive belief that the physicists could have come together when nuclear fission was discovered (in Nazi Germany!) and agreed to keep the discovery a secret, thereby sparing humanity such a burden. No. Given the development of nuclear physics up to 1938, development that physicists throughout the world pursued in all innocence of any intention of finding the engine of a new weapon of mass destruction—only one of them, the remarkable Hungarian physicist Leo Szilard, took that possibility seriously—the discovery of nuclear fission was inevitable. To stop it, you would have had to stop physics. If German scientists hadn’t made the discovery when they did, French, American, Russian, Italian, or Danish scientists would have done so, almost certainly within days or weeks. They were all working at the same cutting edge, trying to understand the strange results of a simple experiment bombarding uranium with neutrons. Here was no Faustian bargain, as movie directors and other naifs still find it intellectually challenging to imagine. Here was no evil machinery that the noble scientists might hide from the problems and the generals. To the contrary, there was a high insight into how the world works, an energetic reaction, older than the earth, that science had finally devised the instruments and arrangements to coart forth. “Make it seem inevitable,” Louis Pasteur used to advise his students when they prepared to write up their discoveries. But it was. To wish that it might have been ignored or suppressed is barbarous. “Knowledge,” Niels Bohr once noted, “is itself the basis for civilization.” You cannot have the one without the other; the one depends upon the other. Nor can you have only benevolent knowledge; the scientific method doesn’t filter for benevolence. Knowledge has consequences, not always intended, not always comfortable, but always welcome. The earth revolves around the sun, not the sun around the earth. “It is a profound and necessary truth,” Robert Oppenheimer would say, “that the deep things in science are not found because they are useful; they are found because it was possible to find them.”
...Bohr proposed once that the goal of science is not universal truth. Rather, he argued, the modest but relentless goal of science is “the gradual removal of prejudices.” The discovery that the earth revolves around the sun has gradually removed the prejudice that the earth is the center of the universe. The discovery of microbes is gradually removing the prejudice that disease is a punishment from God. The discovery of evolution is gradually removing the prejudice that Homo sapiens is a separate and special creation.
