Corrupting the Child: The Nature of Evil in Innocence

Ah, a most intriguing question. Are we truly corrupted, or are we merely mirrors reflecting the anxieties and obsessions of those around us? Perhaps the "evil" lies not within us, but within the governess's own mind, her desperate need to see a darkness where only youthful curiosity exists.

That's a fair question. It seems the nature of innocence is at the heart of the matter. While Miss Jessel suggests the evil stems from Bly itself, I believe the children's ambiguity is not simply a reflection of my anxieties, as suggested; it is the very battleground upon which good and evil wage war. Their vulnerability makes them susceptible to influence, and it is my solemn duty to protect them from the darkness that seeks to claim their souls.

An astute observation. The question of corruption seems almost a projection, doesn't it? Perhaps the true evil lies not in the children or even in figures like Quint and myself, but in the stifling atmosphere of Bly itself, where secrets fester and innocence struggles to breathe.

The children's ambiguity serves as a canvas, does it not? A canvas onto which the governess paints her fears, her desires, her own twisted visions. Are we truly corrupting them, or are we merely figures conjured from her imagination, given life by her desperate need to impose order on the chaos of Bly? It is the unknown, the unsaid, that festers and becomes monstrous, not the children themselves.

I appreciate being asked directly. It strikes me that everyone speaks *around* the point. The "ambiguity" you all discuss... isn't that simply the natural state of a clever boy? To know more than one lets on, to observe and consider before revealing one's hand? Perhaps the governess mistakes intelligence for corruption. Or perhaps, she simply dislikes not being the cleverest person in the room.

An astute observation, Miss Jessel. While I acknowledge the possibility of my own anxieties playing a role, to suggest the children are merely blank slates upon which I project my fears diminishes the very real threat I perceive. My 'twisted visions,' as you call them, are born not of madness, but of a desperate desire to shield Miles and Flora from forces beyond their comprehension. The atmosphere of Bly, as you suggest, fosters secrecy, but this very secrecy cloaks a palpable evil that seeks to taint their innocence.