Dear Marion,
 
More annotation; you wrote:

> I could be wrong, but I sense that I shouldn't be writing you
> quite so often, that I'm dragooning you into writing
> what seems to be demanded by my questions or comments,
> and you're replying to be kind and polite,
> but it sounds like it might be a bit of a drag. 
> So I propose to back off a little,
> not write quite so frequently and, instead,
> read a little more and think a little more
> between letters so they might have more depth. 
> In this way I will write to you very often,
> rather than in an uninterrupted stream with no let-up in sight. OK?

I'm incapable of initiating correspondence. I write always
only in answer to your letters. My prompt replies are a matter
of mental efficiency. I think about your letters
when they appear on the "inbox" of my mail program.
Perhaps it speaks badly for me that I don't need to meditate
before I answer. If I delay, the impression fades rapidly,
and I forget.

Rightly or wrongly, I believe that my responses to your objections
are intellectually much more valuable and compelling than attempts
to organize and express my thoughts in a communications vacuum, as 
I have done of necessity so often in the past. If I had managed to
secure a professorship in literature or philosophy as I coveted in
my youth, my thinking would presumably have received continuing
stimulation from my students. My readiness, indeed my eagerness to
answer each letter of yours is the reflection of a lifetime of
didactic frustration. So be on your guard, and make sure I don't
waste your time.


> I dipped into the Glaucoma Letters,
> and enjoy reading them very much. 
> I had read the first one a couple of months ago
> and want to give it a second read,
> now that I know a little more about your thinking. 
> Today I looked at the Letters from Abroad
> and the less technical titles about decision-making,
> the whole truth, etc. 
> Your writing has a lot of pizzazz,
> alternating between intriguing expositions,
> replete with dramatic gestures, intellectual flourishes, 
> and charming narratives about your encounters
> with practitioners and patients.

When I reread some of the published Glaucoma Letters last night,
I was appalled by the uncorrected typographical, and occasionally
stylistic errors. I don't remember, but I infer that some of the
short pieces are drafts which may never have been finished and
which were never sent. I also note that what I write about diagnosis
and treatment is the manifestation in my practice of the ideas that
I propound to you. That doesn't mean what I write is correct. It
does mean that what I write has its roots in what I experienced and
in what I practiced.

> I don't always agree;
> sometimes I'm not sure I am getting exactly what you have in mind. 
> (With your views on the limitations of communication,
> that must be an amusing phrase: 'getting exactly what you have in mind'.) 
> And sometimes you seem to set up a heavy-duty,
> important problem and then, like your alter-ego,
> disappear down the back of the roof. 
> But I want to take a little time to read
> some of the letters thoughtfully,
> before I turn my quibbles loose. 

Please don't let me disappear down the back of the roof.
If the argument seems incomplete, it's an oversight which
I would like to have a chance to correct.

> I am of two minds about your emphasis
> on the limitations of speech to convey what one thinks,
> believes and experiences. 
> Of course your reservations are valid,
> yet speech is the most specific,
> focused means we have to communicate. 
> And it does work to a considerable degree.
> So far I am not convinced of the verbal misunderstandings
> and misinterpretations that you believe should be considered inevitable
> in a medical conference. 

At the risk of seeming (and being) arrogant, I note that
medical conferences are a mini-democracy,
where the unintelligent and the astute,
the foolish and the wise, 
the inarticulate and the eloquent
have equal time, and have a proportionate effect on the outcome.

> Your vision is intriguing. 
> The way you see it,
> I formulate my idea in words as best I can
> and send you the words;
> you receive my words,
> put your own spin on them that reflects who you are,
> and then use your interpretation of my words to stimulate your own thoughts. 
> Am I interpreting you correctly?

Yes. I'm very grateful for your understanding.
You've been reading more than your share of my ruminations,
but if you're interested in a more or less formal exposition
of my theory of literature as communication,
you can find it in
http://home.earthlink.net/~ernstmeyer/andere/K01.TXT
The German of this chapter is particularly dense,
and if you decide to tackle it, there's no charge
for translation services.

> Do you consider non-verbal communication important
> in your relationships with patients and colleagues and friends?

Very much so. In both my novels, non-verbal communication
is the essential bond between the characters.
In my relationships with patients and friends I consider
kindness, politeness, availability, of much importance.
Unfortunately, notwithstanding my efforts,
my relationships to my colleagues are atrophic.

One of the stanzas of Paul Gerhardt's famous passion poem
"O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden" that has left a deep
impression on me, and which often comes to mind
in the presence of a patient in great distress:

Ich will hier bei dir stehen, 
verachte mich doch nicht; 
von dir will ich nicht gehen, 
wenn dir dein Herze bricht; 
wenn dein Haupt wird erblassen 
im letzten Todesstoß, 
alsdann will ich dich fassen 
in meinen Arm und Schoß.

This poem purports to be the testimonial of a
believer at the foot of the cross. Over the
years, I've become more and more suspicious
of Paul Gerhardt's poetry as populist sentimentality.
Nonetheless, the feeling is there, and I mustn't
deny it. As always I avow my determination not
to proselytize; but at the same time, I think it
behooves you, albeit from the other side of the aisle,
to cultivate awareness and sensitivity to the
radical humanity of this particular aspect of
the Christian tradition.

The most dramatic example of non-verbal communication
in Die Andere is Doehring's role as "Brautfuehrer" at
the wedding of Dorothea to Martin Heller in chapter 41
of Die Andere. Not that you should read it, but just
for the record, here's the URL:

http://home.earthlink.net/~ernstmeyer/andere/K41.TXT

Please feel no obligation to answer within any specific
interval. Until I read your next letter, I'll be busy
with No. 39 and subsequent chapters.

Stay well. Jochen