But what do you really mean? (or, Subtext)

I’ve been watching, on the netflix, this British (E4, not BBC) show, Skins. 

It’s a drama in which a bunch of teens are having sex and drinking and using drugs, plus occasional outbursts of violence and other criminal activities.

Some time ago I watched the first few seasons, and a few days ago I started watching the 3rd season. Toward the end of this season there’s an episode in which several characters get upset when they find out that somebody they like had sex with somebody else and didn’t tell them about it. Basically, their lies and stupid behaviors were revealed and everyone was upset. It reminds me of a lot of sitcoms, except on this show, it’s not supposed to be funny.

I’ve written about stupidity and lying on TV shows before. It occurs to me that this is sort of connected to another topic.

Subtext.

I feel like I’ve written about subtext before, but maybe not.

Subtext is what a character is thinking or what they really mean as opposed to what they are saying.

As a writer of plays and musicals, I rarely think about subtext. My characters tend to say what they’re thinking. I’m sure that has everything to do with how I feel people should be in real life. Just say what you mean.

I want to think that people are honest with me. I’m honest with them. However, I’ve learned that most people aren’t honest. Sometimes that makes me sad, sometimes it makes me angry, sometimes it makes me not want to deal with people.

I don’t mean that people are constantly trying to deceive everyone about everything. Maybe some people are, but mostly no. Certainly some people may lie out of embarrassment about some stupid thing they did. But I mostly mean that people will lie to spare your feelings all the damn time.

Seriously, I would rather know the truth up front. Sure, it might hurt my feelings a little. But I really do want to believe you, so when I figure out that you’re lying, not only are my feelings hurt, but now I think of you as a liar. Now maybe I have less respect for you than I would if you’d’ve just been honest.

Unfortunately, this has contributed to my cynicism about people. I never used to do this, but now sometimes I’ll wonder if someone is telling the truth or if they’re lying to avoid “conflict”. And that keeps me at a distance. It’s hard for me to want to be closer if I’m always suspicious of you.

Having studied psychology, I’m aware that may be deeper psychological issues involved with “lying”. But when I’m thinking about psychological motivations, I tend to think that people are either unable to see the truth or just unwilling to deal with it, not that they’re consciously lying. Actually, I think I’m pretty good at getting a feel for a person when I talk with them a bit, maybe seeing through to what’s really going on. 

I had a roommate who called it “leap-frogging”. Maybe not the most accurate term, but he meant that I sometimes jump over all the little points between A and Z, or maybe I see A, B, & C, and then I’m ready for Z. He also suggested that I “use my power for good instead of evil”. I think he thought I was kind of evil. Of course, he was an extremely repressed Christian-type, who regularly prayed a lot and felt guilty after having (reportedly bad) sex with his girlfriend.

I had, for a while in college, thought I might become a counselor. My degree is actually in psychology.

Anyway, maybe my thinking about, or lack of understanding of, or lack of engaging in subtext in a play has been wrong. I’ve often felt like subtext was a lot like lying. But maybe it’s more like having an unconscious psychological issue—maybe something repressed, that you can’t accept, you can’t say out loud or even to yourself. 

Perhaps I should, in the future, craft characters that are all “crazy”. I don’t necessarily  mean the clinically, diagnosably, put-‘em-in-the-nuthouse kind of crazy. Just the everyday, lying-to-themselves, actually-believing-the-bullshit-they’re-saying kind of crazy.