24 everything simpler—for the liar—than it really is, or ought to be. In lying to others we end up lying to ourselves. We deny the importance of an event, or a per- son, and thus deprive ourselves of a part of our lives. Or we use one piece of the past or present to screen out another. Thus we lose faith even with our own lives. The unconscious wants truth, as the body does. The complexity and fecundity of dreams come from the complexity and fecundity of the un- conscious struggling to fulfill that desire. The complexity and fecundity of poetry come from the same struggle. L e e P T e ¥ O R Y Y An honorable human relationship —that is, one in which two people have the right to use the word “love” —is a process, delicate, violent, often terrifying to both persons involved, a pro- cess of refining the truths they can tell each other. It is important to do this because it breaks down human self-delusion and isolation. It is important to do this because in so doing we do justice to our own complexity. It is important to do this because we can count on so few people to go that hard way with us. CONPROP RPN PRIV RNV | come back to the question of women’s honor. Truthfulness has not been considered important for women, as long as we have remained physi- cally faithful to a man, or chaste. We have been expected to lie with our bodies: to bleach, redden, unkink or curl our hair, pluck eyebrows, shave armpits, wear padding in vari- ous places or lace ourselves, take little steps, glaze finger and toe nails, wear clothes that emphasize our helplessness. We have been required to tell different lies at different times, depending on what the men of the time needed to hear. The Victorian wife or the white southern lady, who were expected to have no sensuality, to “lie still”; the twentieth- century “free” woman who is expected to fake orgasms. We have had the truth of our bodies withheld from us or distorted; we have been kept in ignorance of our most intimate places. Our in- stincts have been punished: clitorectomies for “lustful” nuns or for “difficult” wives. It has been difficult, too, to know the lies of our com- plicity from the lies we believed. The lie of the “happy marriage,” of domesticity —we have been complicit, have acted out the fiction of a well-lived life, until the day we testify in court of rapes, beatings, psychic cruel- ties, public and private humiliations. Patriarchal lying has manipulated women both through falsehood and through silence. Facts we needed have been withheld from us. False witness has been borne against us. And so we must take seriously the question of truthfulness between women, truthfulness among women. As we cease to lie with our bodies, as we cease to take on faith what men have said about us, is a truly womanly idea of honor in the making? ORGP DA Women have been forced to lie, for survival, to men. How to unlearn this among other women? “Women have always lied to each other.” “Women have always whispered the truth to each other.” Both of these axioms are true. “Women have always been divided against each other.” “Women have always been in secret collusion.” Both of these axioms are true. In the struggle for survival we tell lies. To bos- ses, to prison guards, the police, men who have power over us, who legally own us and our children, lovers who need us as proof of their manhood. There is a danger run by all powerless people: that we forget we are lying, or that lying be- comes a weapon we carry over into relation- ships with people who do not have power over us. RGP IPNG PRV NP RN RPN | want to reiterate that when we talk about women and honor, or women and lying, we speak within the context of male lying, the lies of the powerful, the lie as a false source of power. Women have to think whether we want, in our relationships with each other, the kind of power that can be obtained through lying. Women have been driven mad, “gaslighted,” for centuries by the refutation of our experience and our instincts in a culture which validates only male experience. The truth of our bodies and our minds has been mystified to us. We therefore have a primary obligation to each other: not to undermine each other’s sense of