Subtext and stale biscuits say a lot about your relationship

http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/jan/30/subtext-stale-biscuits-relationship

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One of the lessons that I teach my creative writing students is the importance of subtext – what is really being said, as opposed to what is apparently being said. One can learn about this by, for instance, reading great movie scripts – in Casablanca, nearly everything is implied rather than stated directly. Or you can simply look at your own relationship with your partner.

No dialogue is so couched in subtext as that of people in long-term relationships. This is inevitable because one learns to be careful since, over time, certain “hot buttons” are established, which, if pressed, are liable to set off fireworks. So one tiptoes around certain subjects and yet can’t quite leave them alone.

How subtext is smuggled in will vary from couple to couple. The partner who isn’t getting enough sex mentions to their partner that they are going to bed. “Sleep well,” says the partner. “Inevitably,” replies the frustrated party. The habitual drinker who is off to the pub again might have his farewell met with: “See you when they throw you out.” Both these examples essentially avoid the matter that needs to be addressed without issuing a direct challenge. If the habit becomes ingrained, you can start to deliver such remarks without knowing you are doing it. Deniability is key here – the recipient of the cryptic comment can ask outright what their partner is “really saying”. But the partner may not admit this, even to themselves.

Subtext is not just a matter of speech. It is lodged within action (known in fiction as “showing, not telling”). Sitting that extra inch away from you on the sofa after a row is subtext. Giving your partner the stale biscuit and taking the fresh one yourself is subtext. Everything is saying something more than is being said – or not said. We are symbolic creatures and the spoken word is only one arrangement of symbols – and not necessarily the most important one.

Subtext is treacherous because it can often be imagined. A classic example of this is the response to “You’ve lost weight”– “So what are you really saying. That I was fat?” Understanding, or at least acknowledging, these codes will help lead to a happier relationship. But there is a built-in resistance to doing the necessary work. Because subtext, while often inevitable, is also highly functional for the passive-aggressive personality (which I suspect most of us possess to some degree). Direct communication is much trickier than subtextual communication because you have to have a conversation about the issues raised, at the time they are raised – because the meanings are overt rather than covert.

Hidden meanings can be multiple. Let’s say your partner is going out with someone and they have gone to unusual lengths to doll themselves up. If you say, “You look uncharacteristically gorgeous”, you may be insulting your partner on three levels – that they don’t look gorgeous usually, that they are taking you for granted by making a special effort on behalf of their friend (whereas they wouldn’t for you), and that you don’t trust them to have a platonic friendship without flirting.

A relationship can easily descend into this kind of guerrilla communication. No couple can avoid this kind of exchange occasionally, but a healthy relationship shrugs off such remarks off as accidental (or possibly, well meaning). Failing that, the matter alluded to will be confronted directly, enabling the possibility of discussion, and hopefully, resolution.

Some degree of subtext is inevitable. It can be conscious or unconscious, deliberate or accidental, even elegant and clever. Some of the time it is harmless. Some of the time it is brutal. But either way, acknowledging it as a force in a relationship can only help to enable what is perhaps the most important thing in any union – emotional honesty.

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