Shakespeare’s Sonicky Language
Humorist and language expert Roy Blount Jr talks about the concept of “sonicky” words in his new book, Alphabet Juice. “Sonicky” is a term he uses to describe language that sounds like what it is. Not onomatopoeia exactly (whoosh/boom/splat), but thing of the words “oak” and “willow.” There’s a reason the tall, thick, strong tree has such a strong sound, while the droopy tree has a droopy-sounding name. Say the words “oak” and “willow.” Picture the trees in your mind. The image in your mind affects what you say and the word you say affects the picture in your mind. That’s sonicky.
This is a concept that I’ve been a fan of for some time but never had a word for it. Thanks, Roy.
In one of my very first posts on this blog I advised that it is necessary to love language in order to effectively speak Shakespeare’s language. As time goes on I believe it more and more. It’s not enough to understand the words, to know what you want, know who you are, know the relationships. You need to enjoy the SOUND of the words. That’s where sonicky comes it.
Everything in Shakespeare is sonicky.
Today we’re concerned with meaning. Look up definitions of the words or check No Fear Shakespeare for a translation. Okay, now it’s act-able. Well, yes… but that’s not all there is to it. There’s a whole world of work to do, but I’ll try not to get carried away. We’re still talking about the sound of words.
Back in the day the actors, authors, and audiences cared much more than we do about the SOUND of words. Audiences went to HEAR a play. Not only did they want a good story, it had to sound good too. This a huge aspect of the word choices that Shakespeare makes in his plays.
When Richard of Gloucester (soon to be Richard III) speaks “Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths” there’s a lot of meaning contained in just the sound of his words. Look at the first five words. They all have huge, open, similar-sounding vowels. They’re followed soon after by “victorious,” whose change in sound is like that of trumpets welcoming the victorious champion.
How about the line “Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front.” Say “grim-visaged” with a sweet and smiling face. Now try it while scrunching up your face. The image it conjures lends itself to how to say it, and vice-versa. Next — “smoothed” — which is a rather smooth word. “Wrinkled” falls into the same category as “grim-visaged.”
Are you starting to see (or hear) what I’m getting at here?
These words have a particular sound, they conjure a particular image, they serve a particular purpose. The specifics are for you to decide but the point is to be specific in the choices you make. The sound of each word carries much of its emotional content as well as meaning. The sonicky-ness of a character’s words is both his/her head and heart speaking together. Yet another reason why Shakespeare’s works are magical to me.
I’d love to dissect more speeches and concentrate on their sonicky properties, but I’ll let you get to work on that first before you hear any more sound and fury from me on this subject.
Let’s hear it for the Bard!
Posted on July 30, 2009
Billicatons Jul 31, 2009
Great examples. Not sure I like the term ‘sonicky’, though — because it seems a bit of an ugly word itself. Consonance is the best alternative I can come up with off the top of my head: literally ‘sounding with/together’. The idea of the sound of language being consonant with its meaning.
I guess that’s the foundation of most poetry. Shakespeare seems to do it unerringly and possibly instinctively.
Gedaly Aug 1, 2009
Consonance works well by definition, but I’ve mostly heard it used to describe corresponding consonants in a speech, as in alliteration. Before I heard of Blount’s book I used to use “onomatopoetic,” stressing “poetic” part, but technically that just means it uses onomatopoeia. Sonicky is convenient, but I agree that it’s not a great sounding or very descriptive word. It would be like using “soundy.” Until I come up with a better word, Sonicky is it. Any other suggestions?
I have no doubt that Shakespeare did it instinctively. I find that classical text has much more visceral energy behind it, unlike today’s nearly-exclusively-intellectual language.
Willshill Aug 1, 2009
Hey Gedaly! Welcome back!
Visceral, consonance, physical, et al; Linklater explores it peripherally in this vein.
The subject of language and its visceral connections takes up some space in a supporting essay for Shakespeare production in and through education I wrote a number of years ago. I’ve also had too much experience teaching it not to notice the effect an awareness and employ of the sheer physicality of intensity in word production has on the ability and levels of possible emotional/expressive outlay.
A somewhat basic theoretical notion: Sound is directly related to our need for vocal expression. The roots of the words live also in the belly along with the sounds intertwined with their simultaneous production and expression. Compare normal opposites–simple words like up/down, in/out with the accompanying audible movement the sound makes (this is true for all languages, and commensurate with the possible effects of and reactions to sociological and environmental/geographical stimuli) I think these things are inextricably connected. In short, I think it’s a Primal Response. And the more we do it, the more sophisticated at it we get.
Why else would we be compelled to talk ‘words’, those of us who’ve had a taste of it?
Shakespeare made it fine art of course. This is why I’m such a zealot on the Out Loud thing– An unrelenting demand for Oxygen and Energy can transform an actor (or anyone)–it comes most successfully from ‘sounding’ only the deepest of Wells; below the water, a fire burns out of control. We can only access part of it, but that’s all we need, and, all we’re able to productively harness anyway.
Glad you made a ‘return appearance’.
Willshill Aug 2, 2009
Well, I decided that as much blogging on Shakespeare as I do, I might as well have my own where I can pick the subjects every once in a while, and ramble on about them “at Will”. ( heh-heh–sorry).
Anyway, the subject of word sounds, etc. was the very first topic of my very first post. I even attempted an ‘alliterassonant’ sonnet.
I came up with a few ideas as possible substitutes for ‘sonicky”. Among them are pictsonic, pictsonorous, and pictsonorant (ance). The rest are on the blog “shakespeareplace” and are linked to the story here. Cheers