The Invention of Lying **

Is the Truth Overrated?

In “The Invention of Lying” we get to imagine a world where no one can tell a lie – not just that they won’t tell a lie, but that they cannot even imagine anything beyond the truth. If it can’t be touched it’s not even imagined. There is not possibility, only actuality. We were using the movie to talk to our son about the value of telling the truth but instead learned the value of the lie.

For example, much of the film’s comedy is built around the absolute necessity of lying when it comes to social graces (who hasn’t been there?). But more surprisingly, the film gets you to think about how the possibility of a lie is intricately connected to our ability to see and grasp what is really essential.

The inventor, thanks to his gift for prevarication, becomes nearly a god in his world. He has money, a very strange kind of fame and yet he lacks the woman that he loves because he refuses to lie in order to convince her to marry him. The woman our inventor loves seems a pretty obnoxious choice, precisely because she has only an eye for the surface. No matter what our hero achieves in this world, she can’t forget that his genes will produce “unattractive” children. When it comes to the essentials, lying is not a useful tool. And yet, seeing what is essential needs the possibility of lying. The ability to consider plausible alternatives to what happens to be the case means knowing what underlies the possibilities. Were there no horizon of possibility, the essential would lurk behind the actual and remain undiscovered. Our hero, because he wants what is essential, manages to impregnate his love with it. Against her “better” judgment she gives birth to a genuine love for him, one that lets his shortcomings function as a signature for his noble soul. Holding out for the truth gives the essential a chance to shine.

Of course such observations will be lost on a twelve year old who has a gift for lying. But one wonders if they can be found by an American public.