“That’s called existential angst, or dread, and is as a rule only a stage on
the way to new consciousness.”
“I think I need a break from the course.”
“Are there that many frogs in the garden at the moment?”
Sophie started to laugh. Alberto continued: “I think it would be better to
persevere. Happy birthday, by the way. We must complete the course by
Midsummer Eve. It’s our last chance.”
“Our last chance for what?”
“Are you sitting comfortably? We’re going to have to spend some time
on this, you understand.”
“I’m sitting down.”
“You remember Descartes?”
“I think, therefore I am?”
“With regard to our own methodical doubt, we are right now starting from
scratch. We don’t even know whether we think. It may turn out that we are
thoughts, and that is quite different from thinking. We have good reason to
believe that we have merely been invented by Hilde’s father as a kind of
birthday diversion for the major’s daughter from Lillesand. Do you see?”
“Yes . . .”
“But therein also lies a built-in contradiction. If we are fictive, we have no
right to ‘believe’ anything at all. In which case this whole telephone
conversation is purely imaginary.”
“And we haven’t the tiniest bit of free will because it’s the major who
plans everything we say and do. So we can just as well hang up now.”
“No, now you’re oversimplifying things.”
“Explain it, then.”
“Would you claim that people plan everything they dream? It may be that
Hilde’s father knows everything we do. It may be just as difficult to escape his
omniscience as it is to run away from your own shadow. However— and this
is where I have begun to devise a plan—it is not certain that the major has
already decided on everything that is to happen. He may not decide before
the very last minute—that is to say, in the moment of creation. Precisely at
such moments we may possibly have an initiative of our own which guides
what we say and do. Such an initiative would naturally constitute extremely
weak impulses compared to the major’s heavy artillery. We are very likely
defenseless against intrusive external forces such as talking dogs, messages
in bananas, and thunderstorms booked in advance. But we cannot rule out
our stubbornness, however weak it may be.”
“How could that be possible?”
“The major naturally knows everything about our little world, but that
doesn’t mean he is all powerful. At any rate we must try to live as if he is not.”
“I think I see where you’re going with this.”
“The trick would be if we could manage to do something all on our
own—something the major would not be able to discover.”
“How can we do that if we don’t even exist?”
“Who said we don’t exist? The question is not whether we are, but what
we are and who we are. Even if it turns out that we are merely impulses in the
major’s dual personality, that need not take our little bit of existence away
from us.”
“Or our free will?”