Language has always facinated me. Not just English, although I am multi-lingual enough only to order a beer, or find a restroom (besides a few insults in Tagalog), but listening to the spoken language, it's a music all its own. Spoken language has a rhythm, a cadance if you will, a beat that can be altered to create emphasis, reveal emotion, or sound the alarm. I'm an eavesdropper, but not an ill-meaning one. I listen for the sounds of language, the background music of life.
OK, I'm rambling already, but have you ever noticed how smoothly conversations go in the Movies and TV, and realized how different that is from life? The difference is that actors reherse their parts of the conversation, for the most part, people in life do not. Plus, what makes it into the production is often the results of several "takes," and we only get one shot at getting it right. Even if we can, or do reherse what we want to say, we say it wrong, "putting the em-PHASIS on the wrong sy-LABLE" (see, that joke isn't funny in print, only mildly when you hear it), or say it at the wrong time, or we get an unexpected response, and life, once again, overcomes.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating rehersing conversations, but I believe that people should think about how they say things before they say them. I realize we live under the illusion of "instantanious" communication; you can probably get on the internet and see how I feel about anything much faster than asking me, and have me make a considered response. So, why think about it? Blurt out something like,"Great. You?"
I am still a fan of the late-George Carlin, who made millions of dollars on seven words. Carlin understood a fasination with the sounds that language made, and was always at his best when substituting words for those we use most commonly. The "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television" routine remains an all-time favorite, even among folks who don't routinely profane. It's his emphasis on the sounds of words, as in, "sounds like a snack," or "those regressive 'k' s." Those of you who are familiar with "Seven Words..." will understand the words referred to, but the best part of that routine is the "Words You Never Hear Together" bit towards the end. "Hand me that piano." "Please saw off my legs." These don't seem funny, here in text, the meaning is lost until you "hear" the words. I "got" Carlin in a big way.
Today, we use language like a hammer, and while still a "tool," not one I'm very fond of. Language is a tool, or, rather, a tool-box with a wide assortment. Each has an appropriate use, as in a language for expressing one's self appropriately. I mean, you don't want to yell "Hi Jack!" across the airport concorse, even if he is a friend. No, I haven't done that, nor do I suggest anyone try it, as the attention you would receive would not be a hug or a handshake, it would be handcuffs and hustled-off to a room with no door handles. We are constantly bombarded by other people's words, and some of them are scripted in a way to "hammer in a message," read by people hired for their ability to read copy, first take.
It was my great fortune to learn to visualize literature at a young age, and is the basis for my love of written language, particularly books. For me, a book had a secret, some piece of intelligence I had yet to aquire, which I could actually "see" (through the printed word) a picture of Tom Sawyer's cave, or Bilbo Baggins' dragon, to the point of "being there". Too often, I'll miss some deeper meaning, but I read to escape. I'm sorry to part with the Literary Experts (whoever they are), but I have to go with Freud, "sometimes a cigar is just a cigar." In looking for some deeper meaning, believing it to be essential in something being considered "literary," the LE's miss the author's ability to draw a reader into a story, to put a face on a character, to make the moments come alive.
I once told a group of students that I had "been to Mars..." I took the barage of what passes for humor among teenagers, and finished the thought, "...in my mind." That gave them a little to think about. In the end, I doubt if I taught anyone, my own kids included, how to make a character come alive, but they had to admit it was possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment