The imperfection of language

by Mhairi Simpson on February 20, 2012

Was talking to a reviewer friend yesterday who was bemoaning the fact that the review he’d just written wasn’t right. He liked the book but the review seemed much more negative than he had intended it to be. Today, I opened up this window to write my customary Monday post, and couldn’t think of anything to say. So I decided to go with that instead. Please forgive this departure from the usual schedule.

Today I have nothing to say. But I will not say it with style. The lack of verbosity will trail around me like smoke, brushing over my skin with the lightest of caresses, a deceptive mix of salt and hunger and power. In the quiet hangs potential, ten thousand alphabets curving around the fabric of this dimension, pressing, rubbing, seeking a way in. All they need is for me to open my mouth, but I won’t. In uttering words, through our mouths, on paper, across a screen, we lock the ideas that floated so freely in our minds into stone coffins. Once out, they cannot be retrieved, nor wrought into another form. Emotions, darkness, desire. They colour our thoughts, our hearts, with myriad dusts and whispering stars of many-hued laughter. Carving them into rock is a dangerous game. Who knows what they will say once they are subject to the imperfection of language? Colour and texture and the faint whispers of sound speak as much to our words as the emotions that linger, shy and distrustful, at the back of ourselves. Language can never capture every nuance that we wish to express, and so something is lost, some wraith that would change a wolf to a dog, or a cat to a tiger. A homeless man to a hobo, a dying man to a shaman. Today I have no words. I can only give you… words.

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{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }

Algot Runeman February 20, 2012 at 12:40 pm

Well done.

For every set of written words, especially exploring a story’s theme, there is a set of eyes which front for the imagination of a reader’s mind. Perfect communication may actually result as your imperfect words merge with my imperfect imagination.

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Mhairi Simpson February 20, 2012 at 1:34 pm

Which is what we’re going for, and the most we can hope for :) Glad it worked on this occasion :D

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Paul Weimer (@princejvstin) February 20, 2012 at 6:26 pm

Of course, any time words are involved, there is interpretation involved, and the lack of the ability of a reader to read the mind of the writer. The specifics of that process is something a bunch of writers are interested in.

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Mhairi Simpson February 20, 2012 at 6:31 pm

Me too, mainly because it strikes at the heart of language and translation and writing systems. I’m fascinated by the whole thing, but I get sucked in so easily I tend not to go too close :) Rather like pyromania :D

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Alica February 21, 2012 at 1:14 am

Lovely thank you!

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Haley Whitehall February 21, 2012 at 5:23 am

It is kind of ironic when a writer is at a loss for words or can’t find the right word. It happens to all of us. Beautiful description of your lack of words. You described it perfectly. I hope the words return tomorrow.

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Mhairi Simpson February 21, 2012 at 11:27 am

Ironically enough, they returned yesterday. I got just over 2k done on the WIP. It was blog words that weren’t coming to me. But it all worked out in the end :D

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Gene Lempp February 21, 2012 at 7:34 am

Beautiful. Thanks, Mhairi :D

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