The glory of language
Do we control the language we use, or does the language we use control the way we think?
Many of us — perhaps especially those who call ourselves writers — like to think that when it comes to language we are in complete control: we choose and use the words and the phrasing that best express what we want to communicate. Others are adamant that we need to become more aware of the words we use because what we say and the way we talk about things will shape how we think and who we are.
People who claim that language shapes our view of the world believe that we absorb the — sometimes subliminal or subconscious — messages and values expressed by the words we use: if our mother tongue is full of sexist and bigoted language, it is difficult for us to avoid becoming sexist bigots.
A native (British) English-speaker, I learned Spanish in my thirties while living in Spain. I was immersed in the culture and in the everyday activity of living, and I was surrounded by people of all ages talking about any number of subjects. Acquiring a second language as an adult gave me a whole new set of words and a whole new code in which to express myself. And it taught me things about myself that I hadn’t realised.
This second language revealed a different personality: I was free to say things I could never have said in my native English because the new words and grammar freed me to think new ideas and express different attitudes. Unlike English, which I imbibed at my mother’s breast, I came fresh to the new language with the opinions and ideas of an adult but with no preconceptions and no personal attachment or aversion to the words.
After a lifetime of “stiff upper lip” and diplomacy, I found I could be angry in Spanish — a passionate and expressive language — and give vent to my feelings and opinions in a way I never had in English.
This certainly suggests that the language that we have available to us impacts our character — or, at least, the character and personality that we express publicly.
But it’s possible, too, to think that we are in control, and that we have the power to take language and wrestle with it until it communicates exactly what we want it to, like Humpty Dumpty when he told Alice that when he used a word, “it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.”
I’m not entirely sure which side of the argument I agree with: whether the words we use define us and shape us, or whether we dominate them and they reveal who we are.
I do, however, know that we each have our own idiolect — the unique and personal way we use language, vocabulary, pronunciation and grammar. And perhaps these reveal more about us than we realise.
Over the years, I have had to write in many different styles and voices for different projects in different genres — from advertising copy to Health and Beauty journalism to technical manuals to children’s fiction to traditional sci fi… When I write poetry, I try and choose the very best words — and put them in the best order… but I’m fairly sure that when I speak or write without preparation and without heavy revision there are a few words and expressions that I use again and again.
I’m sure there’s now software out there that could be set to crawl through the email sent box or the archive of a personal blog or journal — places where most of us are probably writing naturally and without too much conscious editing — and produce a personal vocabulary list.
With this in mind, a while ago I skimmed through the articles I’d posted on my personal blog over the years. (For complete transparency, I should probably say that the texts I was reviewing were in English, but written after I was already fluent in Spanish.) Although the count was entirely unscientific, it seems that one of the words that crops up most frequently for me is “glorious”, with its sister “glory” also ranking high.
As I said, I’m not really sure whether word choice comes from within — do I use extremely positive words because I am an extremely positive person? — or whether the choices work back to mould our personalities — has my optimism grown from the use of positive words in the same way that an upright and confident physical posture promotes mental and emotional confidence?
I don’t know the answer. But, as Humpty Dumpty also said, “There’s glory for you.”
