Through the Prism

After passing through the prism, each refraction contains some pure essence of the light, but only an incomplete part. We will always experience some aspect of reality, of the Truth, but only from our perspectives as they are colored by who and where we are. Others will know a different color and none will see the whole, complete light. These are my musings from my particular refraction.


How May I Pronoun You?

How do you say "He talks too much" in Porphyrian? I asked hastily, trying to distract Abdo from his misery. I hazarded a guess, no doubt butchering the pronunciation.

Abdo gave me the expected fish-eye, but for an unexpected reason: Wrong gender. You use cosmic neuter for a stranger.

I glanced at Rodya; he leaned to one side and spat on the ground. He's not a stranger anymore. If ever anyone embodied naive masculine, surely Rodya--

You use cosmic neuter for a stranger, Abdo insisted. And he's a stranger until you've asked, "How may I pronoun you?"

But you told me cosmic neuter was the gender of gods and eggplant, I protested, unsure why I was arguing with a native speaker about his own language.

People may choose it, said Abdo. But it's polite for strangers. You may be almost sure he's not an eggplant, but he might still be some agent of the gods.

 ~ from Shadow Scale by Rachel Hartman


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