Chapter 4 – Truth and Lies
The next day, Nutt asked to be shown how to make lockpicks. Nothing wrong with that, Nutt reasoned – knowledge was all well and good, but he also wanted to learn practical skills – that was another way of gaining worth. He watched, fascinated, as the men demonstrated the skill to him. It might be tricky, Nutt thought, as he carefully observed what they were doing, but not exceptionally difficult, once one knew how to do it. And, besides, what harm could there be in making lockpicks? It was a skill, after all, and knowing how to create a lockpick might come in useful later – it was not as if he intended to do anything bad with the knowledge – he probably would not use it to pick a specific lock. Probably.
Of course, at some level he knew that he was lying to himself – he wanted to find out what was in the chained book. But he nevertheless insisted to himself that he merely wanted to find out how to make lockpicks in order to acquire that skill, thereby obtaining worth.
Actually making them had not been too difficult, he mused, as he examined his work a while later. The lockpicks were a little crude, he had to admit, but it had been his first attempt at making them, after all, and finesse could come with practice. For the moment, he just wanted to find out if they were effective.
He was musing thusly, as he wandered down the corridor, and nearly bumped into Ladyship. She smiled at him for a moment, but then this smile turned into a frown, when she saw his expression, "You seem troubled, Nutt," she said.
Nutt quickly placed the lockpicks in his pocket. It was not as if he had done anything wrong in making them, he told himself quickly, but he had other questions to ask Ladyship right now. "I have been reading books of love poetry," he said, truthfully enough, "it fascinates and confuses me. Much of what is in it is not, strictly speaking, truthful."
"Ah, you have encountered metaphors," said Ladyship, seemingly relieved that it was only this that was bothering him, "poetic licence, and similes. Comparing women to a summer's day, to a flower, and the like, no doubt?"
"Yes, that sort of thing," said Nutt, "these are lies, surely, yet the poetry, it seems, has an essence of another kind of truth."
"Hmm," said Ladyship, "metaphors are not lies, not exactly, but they are ways of writing, and speaking, that are not, strictly speaking, literally true. It is all in the reason for the writing. A lady might be compared to a summer's day, or a flower, because she is beautiful, like a summer's day or a flower, although she is unlike either in other ways." She stared at Nutt for slightly too long for his comfort, before continuing, "Lies are untruths spoken with the intention of deception; but metaphors, similes, and poetic language generally, are carefully chosen words, used to evoke emotions and feelings, rather than these being used as a form of deception."
"I am still not sure that I understand," Nutt admitted.
"Well, it might be worth your time discussing this further with Mrs Healstether," said Ladyship dismissively, "she is more attuned to such uses of language than am I. In any case, do not let it bother you unduly. Poetry is not something that is worth spending a great deal of time thinking about; it is mere frivolity, although it can be a useful tutorial in the art of vocabulary, scansion rhythm, and affect, as a means to an end. All love poems essentially have the same aim, when written by men to women: to get the young lady to take all her clothes off," she said.
Nutt frowned slightly upon hearing that. So, comparing a lady to a summer's day could make her clothes fall off? Well, that was interesting, he supposed, as it sounded like some kind of conjuring trick. Still, he decided that it would be best not to try this with Ladyship or Mrs Healstether – he liked them both; but was not sure that they would appreciate it if he were to read poetry to them, only for their clothes to then fall to the floor.
"It is like comparing the vastness of outer space to that of the ocean," continued Ladyship, using another example to help to clarify the nature of metaphors, "the ocean and outer space are both huge, potentially dangerous, largely unexplored, containing beauty and adventure. So, it is a good metaphor – but, like all metaphors, should not be taken too far. As I said before, Mrs Healstether might be able to explain this concept better than I can. Regardless, was there anything else that you wanted to discuss with me?" she added.
Don't ask about the chained book! Nutt told himself. Unfortunately, his curiosity about this book prevented him from taking his own advice, "There is a book in the library, in chains and a padlock," he said, "I want to know more about what is inside this book."
Ladyship frowned for a moment, and then waved her hands dismissively, "Do not concern yourself with that," she said, with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes, "and do not attempt to break the lock or the chains, and do not read that book," she added, just a bit too quickly for Nutt's liking.
"But this book…" Nutt began, wishing, now, that he had not mentioned it, especially as it seemed that he was unable to stop himself from enquiring about it further.
Ladyship narrowed her eyes, "You will not read that book," she insisted.
"But…" Nutt began again.
"You will promise me that you will not read that book!" Ladyship demanded.
Nutt gulped. Ladyship could be quite scary when she was angry. She might be a Black Ribboner, but she was still a vampire. He was fairly sure that it was not a good idea to anger a vampire, "Yes," he said meekly.
"You promise that you will not look at that book?" Ladyship added, in softer tones this time.
"Yes, I promise," said Nutt.
Ladyship smiled, "Good, thank you," she said, sounding relieved.