ERICH KAHLER

ALL UTTERANCE, be it expression or communication, be it "lan-
guage" or shaping of objects, tends to expand and eventually to
split the being from which it comes. Plain, solid existence is mute.

The most rudimentary, inarticulate form of utterance in sound
or gesture is mere expression, that is to say, a reaction to the
stimuli of pain or joy, want or fear. But even the cry of a hunted
animal, the groan of a suffering or starving creature, is a symptom
of something, it is a sign of some motivated feeling. It is, how-
ever, only a sign of something, not, or not necessarily, a sign
made to and intended for somebody; and it is so close to its
actuating source that we still feel it one with the being itself.

Utterance turns into language when contact with the environ-
ment is sought and, through sound or gesture, some kind of
communication occurs. Communication is directed expression.
The wooing song and warning cries of birds, though roused by
elementary urges, are addressed to mates and fellow creatures;
they are signals. The "wagging dance" of pilot bees goes a step
further; it transmits detailed factual information. In all these
cases the emphasis has shifted from mere expression to communi-
cation. Something new is introduced; the utterance carries a
meaning, a meaning for someone else. A sheer symptom, an unin-
tentional, undirected sound or gesture, has no meaning, it has a
cause; more precisely, it has a meaning only for someone who

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