Showing results for "Benjamin" in History & Philosophy

Whether it’s brusque, convincing, fraught with emotion, or dripping with innuendo, language is fundamentally a tool for conveying meaning - a uniquely human magic trick in which you vibrate your vocal cords to make your innermost thoughts pop up in someone else’s mind. You can use it to talk about all sorts of things - from your new labradoodle puppy to the expansive gardens at Versailles, from Roger Federer’s backhand to things that don’t exist at all, like flying pigs.

Nearly everyone swears - whether it's over a few too many drinks, in reaction to a stubbed toe, or in flagrante delicto. And yet we sit idly by as words are banned from television and censored in books. We insist that people excise profanity from their vocabularies, and we punish children for yelling the very same dirty words that we'll mutter in relief seconds after they fall asleep. Swearing, it seems, is an intimate part of us that we have decided to selectively deny.

C'è chi si indispettisce, c'è chi si esalta e c'è invece chi si rende conto, come il giovane Heisenberg durante la sua tormentata convalescenza a Helgoland, che probabilmente il traguardo è proprio questo: smettere di ascoltare il mondo come lo si è ascoltato fino a quel momento e avventurarsi verso una forma di comprensione assolutamente nuova. Per quanto terrore possa, a tratti, ispirare. È la via che ha preferito Benjamín Labatut, ricostruendo alcune scene che hanno deciso la nascita della scienza moderna.