In his essay "Writing for the Theatre" Harold Pinter writes about talking and silence.
There are two silences. One when no word is spoken. The other when perhaps a torrent of language is being employed...The speech we hear is an indication of that which we don't hear. It is a necessary avoidance, a violent, sly, anguished or mocking smoke screen which keeps the other in its place...One way of looking at speech is to say that it is a constant stratagem to cover nakedness.
I thought about this while writing Saint John of Las Vegas. At one point John surrenders to his gambling demons, in a minimart. Embarrassed, he launches into a tirade. Instead of saying "I can't believe how weak I am" he says (to the counter girl):
You gotta be lucky...luc-ky...are you lucky? That’s a dumb question. I know you are. I can feel you...no, not like that, I mean you feel lucky, it feels lucky...in here...whew! But it is hot...does that bother you? That they keep it hot in here? Maybe it’s good for the food...keeps it fresh...although you’d think it’d be better cold...for freshness. (beat) Fresh-ness.
