Another Post Relating to the Apology Section

Towards the end of Chapter 1, one of Lakoff’s themes that stuck out to me most was that of gray area in language. It’s developing everywhere. Meaning gets lost in the Bermuda Triangle between the speaker and the interpreter. The definition of news is floating around somewhere between what we think we should read and what we actually want to read. If I have to use third person for self-reference, than who am “I”—really—and why am “I” so unreliable? I know how poor, indefinite Alice felt.

In addition, apologies seem to have entered a huge gray area. This was the part I enjoyed most about Chapter 1. Rather than trying to find the right words to construct a true, heartfelt apology, it seems that a lot of what we hear is trying to seem apologetic, while really avoids actually apologizing (The “Sorry your cat got stepped on” apology).

Lakoff’s discussion of apologies was interesting because it revealed the psychology beneath the words we choose. Whether we’re trying to dodge it, semi-apologize, or un-apologize, how we say it says a lot about our thoughts on ourselves, our actions, beliefs, and mistakes.

If you ask me, an apology should be so good that the only response required would be, “You had me at ‘hello.’” Obviously, this is not very realistic. But there has to be guidelines out there for the somewhat-decent apology, because as Christina points out, most of what we hear generally sounds like a passive aggressive, “I’m sorry you feel that way” (with the emphasis on you, because clearly none of it was my fault).

Maybe the concept of the apology also possesses a “special mystique,” and people can’t relate anymore to what it is to truly feel sorry for causing harm to another. So they wheedle their apologies down until it’s nothing but gray area.

And, to close, let’s all enjoy the imagery Lakoff uses when she describes language as “just puffs of air.” :)

Surely, if nothing else is, that is worthy of a damn punctuational smiley face.