In order to believe what you say, I have to understand it. I have to interpret it.
This means that I can't just 'accept' it. There is no belief without interpretation.
And there is no interepretation without critical interpretation. If I wonder 'what sense does this make?' then I am wondering 'how can this make sense?' This is the same as trying to figure out how I can continue the conversation with you.
Just because the outcomes of these reflections can seem obvious, and the reflections themselves 'subconscious', they are not therefore 'given' in any useful sense. They are the outcomes of cognitive processes which, if we are not able to articulate them, are still our 'practice'. They are things that we do.
In this sense, I cannot believe you without critically interpreting what you say: without, in the literary sense criticising you.
Whatever private reservations we might have, and however we might (again privately) engage only provisionally in a conversation, there are only some interpretations which are consistent with it being a conversation. When we articulate a criticism, therefore, it must be consistent with the possibility of the conversation within which it is articulated.
This means that there are some criticisms which are wrong (inconsistent with the the possibility of their supporting conversation), and some which are not-wrong. A disjunctive list of the not-wrong criticisms must be a correct criticism - however qualified and inconclusive.
The consequences of this may be trivial, however. Northanger Abbey is neither a Western nor a vaccuum cleaner repair manual. And the 'disjunctive list' may be unmanageably long.
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