232. Is there a situation when it is appropriate to be unkind?
Nana has taught her grandchildren the Golden Rule. Do unto others, etc. They take it to heart, in their own way. Once a person gets past the nimbus of blithe self-absorption that insulates the twins from others' concerns, he'll find Charles prompt to make little gestures and overtures of friendship, Camilla less demonstrative but willing to be nice. The twins do this not because they care particularly much or deeply, but because it's how they would like to be treated themselves.
It takes more effort to be unpleasant, really. What's the old saw about the number of muscles exerted in a frown, the number exerted in a smile? It's easier to be nice, to offer no resistance or objection. The twins are not people who value honesty at the expense of civility. The kind of honesty a person can expect from them goes only as far as a discreet cough, a tactful aside: you've got spinach in your teeth, you know. Nothing too keen, nothing too difficult to hear.
Francis says the twins lead people on. As if they meant any harm by it, as if there were any malice or desire for conquest. But that's not it at all. In the first place, they hardly notice people's reactions to them (that insulating cloud of self-absorption again, the way it muffles and dulls what ought to stand out). When they do notice, though -- well, it would be terribly rude to point the problem out, really. I'm sorry, I can't help noticing that you want me to love you. I can't help noticing how eager you are to talk to me. The way you try to find excuses for us to be alone. It's awfully nice of you to think I'm attractive, but we mustn't get carried away. I really couldn't possibly feel for you the way you'd like me to feel. Let's just be friends, shall we? Unthinkable to say such things. Desire unwanted and unreciprocated is a whole new level of inconvenience, much worse than spinach in the teeth or a missing cufflink.
So the twins continue to be friendly with their overeager friends. They ignore the problem, or they pretend to ignore it, which amounts to the same thing with them. This is not callousness but courtesy as they see it. They think they are being kind. Besides, surely the problem will go away, if they wait long enough. And they don't like it when people tell them things that are true that they don't want to hear. They wouldn't want someone to tell them something like that.
They are, it's true, somewhat passive. Somewhat complacent. Camilla more so than Charles; Charles gets impatient, or gets drunk and says what oughtn't to be said. Camilla, meanwhile, has managed to perfect blankness.
They believe in white lies. They believe that what's out of sight is out of mind. They believe dirt can be swept under the rug, skeletons can be buried in the closet, the dead will lie quiet if the proper rites are observed.
There are situations when the best that can be done is a blunt and sudden objection. In those situations, yes, it is appropriate to be unkind, they are sure. What the twins don't yet understand is that there's a certain mercy in such bluntness, such suddenness, a slap to the face of a hysteric. The killing blow isn't called a coup de grâce for nothing.
Muse: Camilla Macaulay
Canon: Donna Tartt, The Secret History
Word count: 572