That finally gets a rise, albeit a small one, out of him. Enjolras' nostrils flare ever so slightly, and as he lifts his chin, his longish hair seems to billow around him, reflecting the gold in the room. The thing is that it's not just one part of what Cecil has said, but the entirely of it that fills him with a blazing disdain. The equally many things we know that we are forbidden to know, but why should anyone be forbidden to know anything? The gods of antiquity had seen fit to punish Prometheus but never to silence him.
"I came here because I was forced to do so, but that is a separate matter from the one which we were discussing." Diversions should be dealt with first and highlighted as such. It's a petty but effective tactic, picked up from years of studying Marat and Robespierre. "Why are you do you know of things you are forbidden to know? Why would things be forbidden to know at all? What does your government have to fear from the propagation of knowledge? Is not the purpose of human reasoning to examine his place in the world around him and that which he can do to further mankind? Is the unexamined life worth living at all, and how can we truly examine a life when we are certain subjects are entirely forbidden to us? And finally, monsieur, why call yourself a journalist at all if you do not record fact? Why not simply call yourself an actor reciting a dialog convenient for the state?"
As he spoke, the affability slipped question by question from his tone, replaced by cold and mildly vindictive analysis. A polite smile entirely disparate from the derisiveness of his questions paints itself across his face. He's being rude now, he realizes, perhaps negating anything previously said in the conversation, but he can't help it.
no subject
"I came here because I was forced to do so, but that is a separate matter from the one which we were discussing." Diversions should be dealt with first and highlighted as such. It's a petty but effective tactic, picked up from years of studying Marat and Robespierre. "Why are you do you know of things you are forbidden to know? Why would things be forbidden to know at all? What does your government have to fear from the propagation of knowledge? Is not the purpose of human reasoning to examine his place in the world around him and that which he can do to further mankind? Is the unexamined life worth living at all, and how can we truly examine a life when we are certain subjects are entirely forbidden to us? And finally, monsieur, why call yourself a journalist at all if you do not record fact? Why not simply call yourself an actor reciting a dialog convenient for the state?"
As he spoke, the affability slipped question by question from his tone, replaced by cold and mildly vindictive analysis. A polite smile entirely disparate from the derisiveness of his questions paints itself across his face. He's being rude now, he realizes, perhaps negating anything previously said in the conversation, but he can't help it.