Showing posts with label Language in Literature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Language in Literature. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

Language in Literature (Part 2 of 2)

The use of language in writing goes beyond the words we use, further than what language(s) we employ. The words we put into the mouths of our characters are just as vital to the narrative as the words words we use to describe the pot plant on the window sill.
Amongst the myriad things that will be discussed today are the use of slang, the alteration of speech, and the use of catch-words and -phrases.
Hold onto your horses, trim your (metaphorical) sails, and brace for impact.

What is in a word?


Letter, undoubtedly letters.
You may have heard the turn of phrase, 'a picture is worth a thousand words.' I would make the case here that the careful choice of a word or key phrase is at least worth a few hundred.
Take a moment to think about it. A character might use a certain, uncommon word (e.g. voluptuous instead of shapely) which informs the reader about the character in a clever way. Here is a character who has a specific way of perceiving and and describing appearances. It encourages the reader to think a little more deeply about just who this character is, and why the see the world the way they do. Further, this single use of a word can, when employed skilfully, depict the character more succinctly that an entire page of dry descriptions.
Perhaps a character greets people with 'wotcher' rather than the conventional 'hello.' What does that tell the reader about the character? Does a particular image come to mind of the type of character who might use such word?
For an example that is close to my heart, if someone came up to you in the street, and greeted you with "G'day", what would you immediately assume about them?
The important point here is that how someone speaks is intimately bound to who, and what, they are. Someone who takes part in academic discussion on a regular basis might seem to speak in a normal manner in the opinion of their peers. Ask a builder though, and he might suggest that the individual in question is 'pretentious.' Or, more to the point, he wouldn't. Instead, he might use the phrase "stuck up little ****."

Vocabulary


Thus we plough on into the diverse and wondrous world of vocabulary. That is "what words we know, or don't." A fun little activity before we plunge on into the abyss is always a good idea. Go to www.dictionary.reference.com and punch in some words that you use on a regular basis whether verbally, or in your written work. The website has a wonderful little slider that will tell you how commonly known and used each word is. You might surprise yourself.
The point is that for a writer vocabulary is terrifically important. Unless all your characters are scholars, I would suggest that they should not all speak and write at your level. If you a writing (for example) a dialogue between a prince and a night soil remover, should they speak on the same 'level'? While it is possible to create a scenario that allows them to have matching vocabularies, it is much more likely that they would be talking on different levels.
For every character, the writer should consider their background, education, and environment. The character's voice is one of the most important parts of shaping who they are, and their vocabulary (or lack thereof) should reflect that. A former drill sergeant would certainly use different words to express himself than would an economist, even if they were talking about the same thing.
Let us have a play with the idea. Here is a very plain sentence:
"The police officer walked down the street."
A pickpocketing street urchin might rephrase that as:
"The pig waltzed down the track as though he owned the joint."
Whereas a magistrate might tackle it as follows:
"The senior constable proceeded at a pace along the avenue, carrying out his duties as a law keeper."
In both cases the reader both receives further information about the police officer, and come to understand the speaker better, while still receiving the original message that "the police officer walked down the street."
While the original sentence is perfectly functional, delivering the information in a clear manner, the other versions make for a more interesting, and informative, read.

Slang


Another neat little segue. Slang is an excellent way to define a character's speech. However, for it to do so, it needs to both feel natural, and be understood. If it is complete gibberish (even well written gibberish), it will achieve little in regards to deepening a character. The writer doesn't need to provide a dictionary definition of the slang, or a discourse on the nuances of its use, but the slang should make sense to the reader.
At the same time, slang needs to preserve its sense of mystery. Slang is often restricted in its use. To go back to the Prince and night soil collector, it is quite possible that due to his class, occupation, and social circles, that the night soilman uses slang that the Prince doesn't use or comprehend. In this situation the slang serves not only to flesh out the characters, but to reaffirm the social structure (particular in relation to class divide), in which the Prince is superior. However, because of this class superiority, the Prince is excluded from certain parts of society, not just by rank, but by language. Here, despite their speaking the same language, these two characters are impeded by a language barrier.
The power of language, particularly of slang, should never be underestimated. It can often make the characters, or the entire narrative, seem disingenuous if characters are using language that cannot be logically ascribed to them by the reader. To call up from the distant past my discussion about Credibility, you can extrapolate the importance of appropriate use of language.

In Summary


As I have (hopefully) illuminated here, the words and language used by characters within the narrative plays a huge role in how the reader interprets them. They are shaped by their words, not just their actions, and as such their language should accurately, and consistently reflect who they are.
As always, it feels as though I have barely scratched the surface of the week's topic, but I sincerely hope that it has been of help. I also hope that it has encouraged you to think a little more deeply about how we, as writers, use speech to shape out characters and our narratives.

Until next week!

NNBC

Tuesday, 21 April 2015

Language in Literature (Part 1 of 2)

This week's belated discussion is a bit of a change of pace for The Narrative Within. Language is, for obvious reasons, an integral part of any form of literature, or writing. Language, and the writing of it, impacts greatly upon the calibre and readability of any given work, whether intended as entertainment or scholarship (these two forms are not mutually exclusive).
Due to the scope of this topic, my discussion on Language in Literature will be split up over two weeks. The first week will look at the use of multiple languages within a text, while the second will look at how we adapt language for effect (and affect) within the narrative.
NB - I will preface this discussion in saying that in addition to English, I have studied (or am studying) Latin, Ancient Greek, and German. As you would rightly deduce from that, I bring certain biases and assumptions to the table for this discussion.

The Authenticity of Language


Leaving academic writing aside for a moment, let us address the issue of authenticity. The question I ask is this:
 'Should a language used away from its natural context be true to its bona fide self, with no adaptations or alterations?'
As always, I would argue that it depends. On what? Context, style, purpose, to name a few reasons. If one is writing an historical fiction novel, let's use the example of one set in Ancient Rome (c. 70 BC), I would make the case that the Latin used in this situation should be meticulous in its accuracy. It should be as precise as a chunk of Cicero's In Verrem, and read like true Latin that one might find written from that period. There is plenty of comparative source material for such writing, and as such a poor attempt will stick out like a sore thumb.
On the other hand, if you are writing a High Fantasy novel that features a Latin/Roman inspired culture, you as the writer have more freedom in the language. While you might draw heavily from Latin (and I don't blame you if you do!), you might also want to lend your own particular feel to it. Maybe you alter the vowels, giving it a more archaic tone, or start playing with the subjunctive in a brutal fashion. Ultimately, as in this situation you are writing in your own universe, you have plenty of freedom. I would still perhaps advise that some care is taken, as whatever language you are playing with still needs to feel like an authentic language at the end of the day.
As you may have deduced, the liberties taken with a given secondary language really are at the discretion of the writer. However, there are some guidelines I like to adhere to. For one, I always keep my intended audience in mind. Different readers will read and react differently to different uses of language. Some might find the use of a secondary language stimulating, others would like the flavour it adds to the narrative, whilst some might be alienated by it. My suggestion in this regard is to use the secondary language sparingly, employing it only where it has a meaningful impact upon the narrative:

            "When the last man passed, Lucian raised a ceremonial spear and launched it high into the air, the pennant of his legion streaming from its haft. As it fell to earth, embedding itself in the Field of Tellius, he cried out loudly enough for the citizens who lined the edge of the field to hear, “Nec deficiemus nec revertemus antequam victoria!”"

Not only is the 'old tongue' phrase brief, it also clearly carries a symbolic and traditional meaning. Further, I do more to empower the use of the secondary language here. In the following scene two characters (Lucian and Fulvius) discuss the 'old tongue' phrase, explaining it, and translating it for the benefit of the reader.

"As they road along the Western Way, Fulvius said, “An ancient and famous saying.”
Lucian glanced over, snapped out of his reverie, and asked, “What was that?”
Fulvius chuckled and said, “Until victory, we shall not cease, nor return.”
Lucian nodded, saying, “Aye, as old as the legions themselves. What of it?”
“It has been a long time since the Legate has cried that at the Field of Tellius and truly wondered whether he would return. It has become more theatre than reality. When the first legion marched out to that cry, every man there knew that death and defeat was a real possibility.”"

Throughout my novel, from which both of these passages originate, I have deliberately used less common Latin vocabulary where possible. This is to give the 'old tongue' its own distinct characteristics and flavour. Even though I have spent an appreciable amount of time working on the 'old tongue' it is still readily identifiable as Latin and (mostly) obeys the rules of that language. I use it sparingly, and only where the narrative's context benefits from its presence.

Creating Your Own Language

I take my hat off to anyone who is willing to attempt this, and would give a bottle of wine to them if they pull it off. When I say 'Creating your own Language", I don't mean a small number of phrases said by one or two characters. I am talking about a fully fledged language. I do have a comment on invented terms and phrases that I will give later, but for now let us talk full languages. Full alphabets (even when derivative), with pronunciation rules, grammar, and in depth linguistic rules are no easy thing to create, hence why it is so rarely done. The name that will come up time and time again when talking about authors who have created their own language is, of course, J.R.R. Tolkien. As many of you would know, he devised the language of the Elves in his fictional universe of Middle Earth, the languages named Quenya and Sindarin. Quenya in particular drew on a number of 'real' languages, including Latin, Welsh, Greek, and Finnish. One must also note that Tolkien was a Professor of Anglo-Saxon, and thus no stranger to the complexities of Language. Most of his lifetime, it seems, was devoted to the creation of Languages.
The daunting level of dedication is clearly one of the deterrents to those considering writing their own language. Alongside this is the knowledge that if you do devise your own language, it will most likely be compared to the high standard set by Tolkien's languages. This said, if you think you can do it, I whole-heartedly encourage you to do so. The literary world can only be enhanced by such endeavours.

Pseudolingua


Something of a pet peeve of mine is when writers (of any discipline) use madey uppey language in their work. My most recent example is in a book that has a form of magic which the author has given a special name. Unfortunately, as a student of Latin, I recognised the word (I am not sure if the author is a Latinist or not), which translates into English as 'man', or more frequently, 'husband'. Now, think back to my remark about the 'intended audience'. Naturally, most author's don't expect their work to be interrogated by a vast number of pedantic classicists, and thus won't necessarily pander to such nitpicking. Most writers (inc. your's truly), will use a word that they would swear they made up, only to find that it is the name of some obscure British village, or what a Roman woman called her beloved. These things happen, I just recommend a bit of research if you intend to make a habit of using a particularly word or phrase with any frequency.

Academia


The use of secondary languages within academia is a little different, but I do want to briefly touch on it. As many would be aware, Ancient Greek and Latin words are frequently used within the sciences (especially biology), though in such a way that is not overly complex. Historians however, are a different kettle of fish. In all honesty, I think it may be that we like to show off our big brains, and rub them in people's collective intellectual faces. As a Classicist, I frequently work with works by historians who have lived in the last few hundred years and who, despite writing primarily in English, are happy to include large chunks of Greek, Latin, German, French, Italian, or Spanish. Partially (particularly when Latin was still widely taught in schools and tertiary institutions), this is due to these historians writing for their peers, rather than the ambiguous 'layman', and thus assuming that the reader can easily translate these slaps of other languages. Other reasons include, of course, showing off the author's proficiency with a given language (especially if they have written something of their own in said language, rather than just quoting an ancient author), or including something that might be considered 'inappropriate' for the masses to read. I hope to discuss the clever ways in which other languages are used in English Academia in greater depth at a later date, as it is a truly fascinating topic.

Once again, thank you for indulging me by reading my ramblings. I hope you have taken something positive away from today's post, and hope you are looking forward to the second instalment on Languages in Literature.

Until then, 
Salue!
NNB CLARKE