“How degrading and debasing to be a slave!” I cried. “Yes, Mistress,&a
“How degrading and debasing to be a slave!” I cried. “Yes, Mistress,” said the girl, putting down her head. I thought she smiled. She had told me, I suspected, what I had wanted to hear, what I had expected to hear. “Slavery is illegal!” I cried. “Not here, Mistress,” she said. I stepped back. “Where Mistress comes from,” said the girl, “it is not illegal to own animals, is it?” “No,” I said. “Of course not.” “It is the same here,” she said. “And the slave is an animal.” “You are an animal—legally?” I asked. “Yes,” she said. “Horrifying!” I cried. “Biologically, of course,” she said, “we are all animals. Thus, in a sense, we might all be owned. It thus becomes a question as to which among these animals own and which are owned, which, so to speak, count as persons, or have standing, before the law, and which do not, which are, so to speak, the citizens or persons, and which are the animals.” “It is wrong to own human beings!” I said. “Can Mistress prove that?” she asked. “No!” I said, angrily. “How does Mistress know it?” she asked. “It is self-evident!” I said. I knew, of course, that I was so sure of this only because I had been taught, uncritically, to believe it. “If self-evidence is involved here,” she said, “it is surely self-evident that it is not wrong to own human beings. In most cultures, traditions and civilizations with which I am familiar, the right to own human beings was never questioned. To them the rectitude of the institution of slavery was self-evident.” “It denies freedom!” I said. “It denies some freedoms, and precious ones,” said the girl. “But, too, it makes others possible, and they, too, are precious.” “People simply cannot be owned!” I said, angrily. “I am owned,” she said. I did not speak. I was frightened. “My Master is Ligurious, of the city of Corcyrus,” she said. “Slavery is illegal,” I said, lamely. “Not here,” she said. -- source link
Tumblr Blog : goreanway.tumblr.com