Assignment 1:3 — WOR(L)DS

Marie Ponsot. Image cited below.

Question 3:

In an interview piece appropriately named “Between Riddle and Charm,” Anna Ross quotes American poet Marie Ponsot as a connoisseur of poems that use “whatever we can find in our language to catch the world and offer it to each other.” Implicit in her poetic tableau of terrene transaction, is the implication that language has the capacity to weave another realm, or at least, create pockets of reality that is then shared. In an apt parallel, J. Edward Chamberlin in his introduction to If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories? Finding Common Ground, writes that stories “bring us close to the world we live in by taking us into a world of words” (1). Although differing slightly in their descriptions of the power of language and exposition, both writers indicate a common thread: language as a vehicle for understanding the “wider world” (162) C.S. Lewis failed to consider.

Like Ross and Ponsot, Chamberlin narrows in on the topic of framing the world through the mystical lenses of rhyme (riddle) and charm. Rhymes adhere to a quizzical vein, artfully playing with language to court contradiction. However, charms seek to breathe new life into our realities, and provide platforms for a common blood for our experiences. As Chamberlin describes in regards to their differences: “either language or the world has to give—and in a riddle, language gives” (180). There is a reason why I’ve riddled my explanation of rhyme and charms with the language of vītālitās and of the sanguine. Words seem to harness of a life of their own, able to evolve if not metamorphose in contingency to the world of the speaker. And that world is often like the rhyme, a contradictory hodgepodge or gallimaufry of personal experience. These experiences will undoubtedly differ from orator to orator and culture to culture, and in an example Chamberlin illustrates through onions and roses, what may be a symbol of love for one society will incredibly differ for another. This is the “world of words” Chamberlin elaborates upon within his insightful tome.

As mentioned above, rhymes in particular reflect the contradiction of the multiplicity of human experience, and how we as inquisitive animals search for meaning through arbitrary sounds and alphabets in the vast expanse of our realities. There may be a clever coincidence as to why a single elimination of the letter ‘L’ from “world” transforms the term into “word.” With stories it may be safe to say that the world is not created through atomic assembly. Instead, the world is spoken into life through the fundamental units of language: words. Chamberlin depicts this in his explanation of early linguists:

Linguists used to say that every word was once a
metaphor, embodying the wonder of an encounter with some-
thing strange; this wonder was then represented in a word, and
when the word was repeated, the encounter was experienced
again in all its surprising strangeness. (163)

One rhyme may embody the startling representation of a concept or object to one generation, but for the next, may be rendered defunct. Likewise, rhymes often fail when passing cultural boundaries. However, they remain powerful for their respective orators, their apparent nonsense becomes “so familiar that it seems simply true” (162), reflecting Chamberlin’s observation that an education of reading and writing is akin to becoming “comfortable with a cat that is both there and not there” (132). Words may mean one thing for one person, but may be colored differently for another who has a completely different palette of experiences, while simultaneously representing something else entirely. And yet, these words bring us closer to our world by the hues of our personal, social, and cultural contexts thanks to their intimate reflection—or perhaps it would be better to say transformation—of our realities.

Unlike the rhyme, charms seem to have an easier time crossing borders. I believe that is due to their ability to resonate with core human values: “friendship, love and loyalty” (192). Stories and songs like Bony M’s “The Rivers of Babylon” re-frame the world in broader swathes, but with the same imagination of the rhyme. In regards to charms, Chamberlin more specifically writes that “it is only through the pressure of our imagination that we can resist the pressure of reality” (192), and these crafted words, sorted artfully into the soaring melodies of ballads, into the hums of Ponot’s poetry, or into compelling narratives both written and orated, tie us closer to the world we live in by attempting to orient us in response to the overwhelming vortex of human experience. When effective, these charms are canonized. Placed into tradition. We remember histories upon histories through the fabricated weave of story.

Perhaps, that is why it is so important to preserve the stories of the Indigenous. They represent whole other worlds. Worlds we may be oblivious to, but are homes to the voices of thousands. Stories, with their powerful words communicate to us, the outsider, the collective wealth of a culture’s traditions, way-of-life and reality. So, when we recall the horrendous severance of an entire people from their own language—the tools with which they create stories—by the cultural massacre committed by the residential school system or the injustice of the Kwakwaka’wakw potlatch‘s banning, we are also remembering the destruction of entire worlds.

While the Starkiller Base of Star Wars: The Force Awakens may destroy entire galaxies of planets, the death of languages destroys the ability to create and keep canonized, the stories of a culture’s world. To end, I hope that this course will inspire an awakening in me (and it already has), and help me discover Canadian literature like a Marie Ponsot, and find a little bit of world in every rhyme, every charm.

Works Cited

“Between Riddle and Charm.” Interview by Ann Ross. Guernica 15 July 2010: n. pag. Web. 19 Jan. 2016. <https://www.guernicamag.com/interviews/ponsot_7_15_10/>.

Bony M. “The Rivers of Babylon“. Lyrics. Metro Lyrics. Web. April 04 2013.  <http://www.metrolyrics.com/rivers-of-babylon-lyrics-boney-m.html>.

Chamberlin, J. Edward. If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?: Finding Common Ground. Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2004. Print.

Churchill, Sarah. “English: It’s a Neologism Thang, Innit.” The Guardian. N.p., 9 May 2011. Web. 20 Jan. 2016. <http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2011/may/09/neologism-thang-
scrabble-abominations>.

Ross, Ann. Marie Ponsot. Digital image. Guernica / a Magazine of Art & Politics. N.p., 15 July 2010. Web. 19 Jan. 2016. <https://www.guernicamag.com/interviews/ponsot_7_15_10/>.

“The Story of the Masks.” The Story of the Masks. N.p., n.d. Web. 22 Jan. 2016. <http://www.umista.ca/masks_story/en/ht/potlatch01.html>.

8 comments

  1. Hello Brendan,

    Thank-you for your great article on words and worlds! After listening to a lecture about James Joyce and the level to which he took the art of words (beyond comprehension of most of his readers), I was very tempted to write on this topic, too.

    You assert that it is important to preserve the stories of the indigenous. You go on to talk about the language that has been taken from them, and the importance of retaining language, as well. What do you think about Chamberlin’s discussion of the impossibility of translation? The stories of the indigenous are their worlds and create an enduring world for their ancestors and community. If, over time, the story of the flow of people and migration means that the language cannot be understood by many of the indigenous members of that community, is it better to translate, to at least preserve the stories? Indigenous people are working to retain language, and find others to speak with them, to help preserve the story in its original language, with the sounds and the words that cannot be translated – but what if through disease or dislocation there is a high risk of loss?

    Andrea

    1. Hello Andrea,

      No, thank you for reading it! Aha, James Joyce is a favorite of mine. I’m especially fond of his collection of short stories called Dubliners.

      The impossibility of translation is definitely an issue and I believe, is something that cannot be entirely overcome on the part of the outsider. However, that is why there have been many grassroots intiatives in place to help preserve the language alongside building a community of speakers. However, you raise a valid concern.

      I believe at the least, it’s important to translate and preserve. Linguists are busily building word banks of the endangered languages, using diacritics to match the sounds as close as possible. Even if disease, dislocation or other tragic event occurs where the last speaker is lost, I still believe the preservation of the language in some form—whether it be through written document, recording or other mediums—is important. We cannot forget the existence of other languages. Their existences form our realities as much as ours. We should live with that understanding, I believe.

      Thank you so much for reading!

  2. Hi Brendan,

    I really enjoyed reading your blog about why words make us feel closer to the world we live in. I think you have made a great point about why it is so important to preserve indigenous languages. Their words really do create a whole other world. Their language is essential for understanding the history of Canada because they have an oral tradition. If we loose their language we loose an entire culture, and an entire part of our shared history.
    Canada’s history may be made up of settlers stories now, but as we come to understand indigenous cultures more and preserve their language we can change that. As Edward Chamberlin suggests we can reconcile our differences through accepting one another’s stories because after all they are all “on common ground” (240) .

    1. Thanks, Nicole!

      I appreciate the kind words. The power of words is so fascinating. Ever since I took a Linguistics class back in my first year—and I have dabbled in some others here and there—I have garnered such an interest in the capacity for words to communicate, change and transform. Regrettably, my marks in those classes were lackluster, but oh well. THAT’S IN THE PAST.

      After reading your blog entry, I understand how Canada’s history is made up of settlers’ stories with a clearer mind. Your suggestion that the preservation of indigenous languages can help change the historical and cultural narrative is an important one. Through language, I believe we can find common ground and although we may encounter a Tower of Babel situation, through the understanding of the importance of language preservation, we can overcome such obstacles and recognize the significance of another culture’s reality.

      Thank you again!

  3. Brendan, thank you so much for your eloquent and beautifully-delivered thoughts. A special thank you for the Marie Ponsot quote, that’s a keeper.
    I am often unable to express exactly the beauty or awe of a certain moment using the words that I know. I usually need the help of grand hand gestures or sound effects or wide eyes to really get my point across. In literature, we don’t have that luxury. Perhaps that’s another benefit of rhyme and charm? Your comment on poetry prompted this idea. Perhaps tools like rhyme and charm are able to fill that gap in literature that captures certain ‘feelings’ we cannot communicate effectively with basic dialogue. Feelings that, in person, would be communicated with body language and non-words, can be communicated with quizzical, artful language in text. Maybe that feeling we get when we read a poem, or a book, or a story that we deeply connect with, is similar to the feeling we can have when in the presence of someone re-living for us a moment they experienced?
    I could be reaching a bit here but I really enjoyed reading your post and it has sent me on a thought tangent.

    1. Thanks for the compliments, Sierra! You’re too kind.

      I definitely believe in the magic of gesture. I actually got goosebumps reading your comment because I sincerely believe you’ve hit the mark with what you’ve written. Certainly, rhyme and charm do their best to capture the inexpressible and perhaps you are right! Perhaps, when we read a fantastic novel or a lovely poem or hear a wonderfully engaging story, we experience a feeling “we can have when in the presence of someone re-living for us a moment [they’ve] experienced.” After all, literature is meant to recapture the human experience and to share it in a manner akin to Ponsot’s worldly trade!

      Thank you so much for the insightful comment.

  4. Hi Brendan,
    I really liked the way your blog post for this week flowed in the same way Chamberlin’s writing did in If This Is Your Land, Where are Your Stories?; you moved from referring to an interview as a means to introducing an idea, consulted the text to explore that idea, make original connections to give life to that idea and then highlight the real world significance of that idea to make sure the point hits home. As an English Lit student, the idea you explored this week was really fascinating: words and their power.
    Pronunciations might change, words might come in and out of use and languages might die out but the power of this element so central to our communication is just how much it can convey. There is a historical, cultural, social, personal, religious, and always significant weight to language; it is a tool and above all, it is an identity. It really is a harrowing reminder you make in your post that amongst the greatest crimes a country like Canada made in settling the land was performing a cultural genocide upon the Aboriginal peoples and their languages, and in doing so, destroying “entire worlds.”
    I looked online and Statistics Canada outlines: “Aboriginal peoples, though, are confronted with the fact that many of their languages are disappearing, an issue which may have profound implications. Over the past 100 years or more, at least ten once-flourishing languages have become extinct.” As of 2001, “only one in four Aboriginal people speaks an Aboriginal language” (Norris, “Aboriginal Languages”).
    I cannot find current statistics about this but I was wondering if you think that the modern shift in our cultural values and Canada’s celebration of Aboriginal people will ensure that these languages will never fully die out? Or do you think that the death of these languages should simply be expected in this larger history of assimilation?
    -Simon

    Works Cited
    Norris, Mary Jane. “Aboriginal Languages in Canada: Emerging Trends and Perspectives on Second Language Acquisition.” Statistics Canada. Government of Canada, n.d. Web. 25 Jan 2016.

    1. Hello Simon!

      Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I’m almost blushing, pahaha! Definitely, as a Literature student, this lesson’s week was a wonderfully engaging one. The evolution of language is something I’ve always been interested in and how language is a product of its cultural contexts. And you put it best, language really is an identity. That’s a lovely way to put it.

      The statistic in regards to the Aboriginal languages is one I’m familiar with. It really is a tragedy, and I worry for the many stories we have lost already, unbeknownst to many. I believe we have to remain optimistic. The modern shift of our cultural values will ensure at least the safety of some of these languages and hopefully, all of them! Linguists right now are hard at work as you may already know, already resisting the narrative of assimilation. Through classes like these and other vehicles, the interest in Aboriginal language will be revitalized and maybe one day, Canada’s underlying title will include the stories of the real settlers.

      Thanks so much!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *