For your Weekly Poirot enjoyment, another conversation between Hastings and Poirot.
“Is it really necessary to tell such elaborate lies, Poirot?” I asked as we walked away.
Poirot shrugged his shoulders.
“If one is going to tell a lie at all—and I notice, by the way, that your nature is very much averse to lying—now, me, it does not trouble me at all—”
“So I’ve noticed,” I interjected.
“—As I was remarking, if one is going to tell a lie at all, it might as well be an artistic lie, a romantic lie, a convincing lie!”
from Poirot Loses a Client
Sorry to keep focusing on the subject of lies, but the concepts of truth and untruth are very much on my mind lately. As I mentioned previously, I had a falling out with a friend. Part of the cause was that she lied to me. I, unlike Poirot, cannot accept lies and lying so nonchalantly. But I agree that an interesting lie is better than an uninteresting one. Perhaps I should add that to my list of grievances against my former friend—“Not only did you lie, but they were boring lies! How dare you be so dull!”
I jest, but seriously, each of us has to decide how much lying we’re going to allow ourselves to do, and in which directions we’re going to take our lies. Then we have to decide how much lying we’re going to accept from others. And while we might hate lying and we might hate being lied to, we should realize that lies are necessary. Lying is, in fact, an essential social skill. People would not get along very well if they were thoroughly, deliberately, unremittingly honest with one another. Sad but true.