Language Is Identity

I’ve been writing lately about the power of language, even down to the importance of individual letters for freedom of speech, so imagine my interest when I ran across this sentence in a book I was editing (Kurdish Identity, Discourse, and New Media, by Jaffer Sheyholislami).

“When admitting the fact that writing in Kurdish is so difficult that it pushes her to quit, Tewar writes:

‘But, I cannot quit . . . Language is a part of me. Words are mirrors that reflect my ideas and feelings . . . Without [our] language we are nothing . . . A language is as important as a country, history and flag . . . Language is a part of our personality . . . Language is identity . . . To express your inner thoughts and feelings … you need the language of feelings and the soul; no language is closer to one’s feelings and soul than the mother tongue . . . When writing we might make mistakes . . . We may not have a rich vocabulary . . . but, let’s not quit; let’s continue [writing].’ (Tewar, 2002a)

“For Tewar, language is important as a national symbol in defining a people; it is also a decisive factor in defining a person. This idea that the mother tongue is a strong link between the individual and the nation has been advocated by prominent scholars of nationalism and language as well.”

In another book I just edited, I learned that the Zaza Kurds of Turkey have an oral language; the Turkish government has forbidden any written record of their language, so that Zaza history, Zaza literature, and Zaza music must all be memorized and recited. For the Zaza Kurds, there is great truth in the African adage: When a man dies, a library dies with him.

In Alaska, my cousin Beth is working to record the Athabascan language, a language that a few decades ago was dying out, and which certainly had never been recorded or documented. Beth is working to save the language, and, thus, preserve a culture.

This speaks to one of the reasons I am a writer, and why I treasure our language so much, why I am adamant that we learn to speak and write with flair and focus. We are defining ourselves as a people through our use of language. It is so much more than a tool for conveying ideas. It is the means by which we identify ourselves, as individuals and as a nation. It is the avenue by which we share our souls with the world. When we rally for freedom of speech, we rally for freedom as a people.

All Letters Matter

“To possess language is to possess reality; to lose control of words is to forfeit one’s claim to reality,” writes Nathan Mitchell in Cult and Controversy.

The truth of this became clear as I read Mark Dunn’s Ella Minnow Pea, a book I received as a gift for Christmas. It’s a short fable, a cautionary tale, about how each and every letter of our alphabet matters, especially when that letter is deleted from the language, and all words containing that language must be excised from our lives.

At first, the islanders living on Nollop, a fictitious island off the coast of South Carolina, are not too worried. After all, only the letter “z” had fallen off the statue of the island’s hero, Nevin Nollop, the supposed creator of the pangram, “The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog,” which sentence graces the memorial to its creator. When the first letter falls off, the island’s government decides that the incident is a message from beyond, from Nollop himself, inducing the islanders to stop their verbal and written laziness and to make better use of the language.

What’s the big deal, asked most of the islanders when the government directed that after a certain date the letter “z” would no longer be legal, either in writing or in speech. Severe penalties were put in place for those who erred in speech or with pen, and the islanders began to inform on one another, waiting to pounce on any unsuspecting neighbor who might mention the buzz of bees or how something oozed from a pie. Still, there was no widespread panic. What’s the loss of a simple z?

As the book progresses, it is determined by state-siders that the glue that holds the letters to the memorial has calcified, and all letters will eventually plummet to the ground. But the island governors don’t want to hear such nonsense. Nollop is speaking to them, they are certain, and they will enact Nollop’s wishes.

Once the letter “d” falls, Nollop has become all powerful in the minds of the governors, and, since the word “God” is no longer allowed, he has also become all potent.

The book ends with only five letters remaining in the island alphabet: LMNOP. But the islanders are saved by the discovery of a new sentence that uses all letters of the alphabet (pangram), with 32 letters total.

It’s a fun tale, not too meaty or drawn out, but it did make me realize how even seemingly insignificant constraints on language can have a repercussive effect on thought, on communication, and on neighbors. Words can be used to inspire or to incite, to heal or to wound, to convey truth or lies. But these must never be a law that prohibits free speech or writing, for the public’s good. Who, after all, is to decide that good? Language must be allowed to flourish, or rights will die.

Pilgrimage

I’m currently reading a book by Dr. Frank C. Gardiner, of UC Santa Barbara, titled The Pilgrimage of Desire: A Study of the Theme and Genre in Medieval Literature. Dr. Gardiner was the father of my great friend, author Meg Gardiner. Reading Dr. Gardiner’s book, it’s easy to see where his daughter got her writing chops. And the book is intriguing with its insights into Medieval literature and original sources. Great reading. To this day I regret the fact that I never took one of Dr. Gardiner’s classes when I was an undergraduate at UCSB. He scared me, he was so brilliant. Plus, he’d seen me in mime costume. It was a no-win situation.

I’m reading the book in preparation for an article I am working on for Via Lucis, the photography group and publisher for whom I am editor. Our first major volume, Light and Stone: France Romanesque, is currently being revised for publication in 2011. One of the chapters I want to add to the book (with photographs by Dennis Aubrey and PJ McKey) is about pilgrimage and its importance in the lives of those who lived in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.

The magnificent Romanesque churches of France, of which there are more than 5,000, are testament to the faith of mere mortals. Built not by slave laborers, as the pyramids were, these were edifices built to glorify God and to show humankind’s reverence for His beneficence and care. Many of these churches housed relics of saints, and, thus, were the focus of pilgrimage by the masses. Others exist quietly, off the beaten track, but are no less important in the lives of the people of the region, yesterday and today. Even as they sit silent and empty today, they echo with the “hallelujahs of the past,” waiting for the day when believers will once again enter through their doors and raise their eyes to heaven. They await new pilgrimages and a new flock.

If you are at all interested in seeing images from these wonderful churches, visit www.vialucis.wordpress.com and www.vialucis.us.

Experience Necessary

At UCSD where I teach fiction writing, I meet many people who want to become writers, but who fear that they’ve gotten started too late in life. They might be former Superior Court judges, physics profs, academic secretaries, telephone linesmen, or “simply” mothers and housewives. Each feels that they “wasted time” before turning to writing.

Nothing could be further from the truth. Our life experiences inform our writing. Those people who leave high school and decide to “become a writer” are at a disadvantage: they don’t yet know life. It is the people you meet, the situations you encounter and survive, the temptations you face and overcome or give in to, the love you give and receive–all of these become the grist for your mill, the substance from which you create fiction.

Writing instructors teach that you should “write what you know,” but I find that limiting, in terms of subject matter. If you’ve never been a beekeeper, does this mean that you can’t write about beekeeping? Of course not. With the Internet, research is right at your fingertips. But what will give life to your research? Your knowledge of people, of relationships, of trials and tribulations. Beekeeping may be a subject in your book, but it alone won’t carry a story. It’s what you add to the beekeeping knowledge that will make your book come alive, and register as true in your readers’ minds.

I’ve toyed with the idea of writing about a female long-haul trucker. Have I done been a long-haul trucker? Never. But I can research the nitty-gritty details, and then populate the book with people I’ve known, personalities I’ve encountered, life situations that a trucker might face, and create a believable story based on my lived experiences. I may not have driven a truck, but I know the challenges a woman faces in a man’s world; I’ve known the fear, uncertainty, anger, and triumph that result from meeting those challenges. My experience will lend credence to the story.

The Superior Court judge doesn’t have to write legal stories. The world is wide open to him. What he’ll bring to the task is his understanding of humankind, of the human heart, and the power of love, lust, and the desire for filthy lucre. He might write a story set in the Pyrenees, a love story between a salesman and a barmaid. What does he know about any of that? What he doesn’t know, he can research. What he does know, about life, love, and longing, will make his writing masterful.

No experience in life is wasted when it comes to writing. All experience can be saved in your tool box, to be brought forth as needed.

What Makes a Character Tick?

During the class I recently finished teaching at UCSD Extension, I emphasized the fact that authors can’t simply have their characters act and react as the story and plot require, but that they must create the characters in such a way that the characters have no choice but to act or react as they do.

This was brought home to me by John Morgan Wilson when he reviewed a chapter of my book. (In fact, he was repeating something that Meg Gardiner had pointed out to me during one of her critiques.) Both said that I was having my main character react as I needed her to react to further the story, not as she might have reacted on her own. Okay, I know that sounds ridiculous, since I am the author and I can make my characters act any way I choose, but the truth was, I hadn’t given proper consideration to how she might have acted on her own. She simply reacted as I deemed necessary.

My students were confused by this idea, but eventually saw the logic, and how taking a character’s true reactions into consideration could quickly strengthen their writing. An example: one student had a conversation between two older adults who had reentered the dating scene, meeting after connecting on Match.com. During the dialogue, the man asks the woman if she is married. She says she is a widow, but was separated from her husband at the time of his death. The writer went on with the conversation, never stopping (as an author) to consider the ramifications of that statement. Why had she and her husband separated after so many years? What had finally caused her to walk away? Knowing that, the author has new cards to deal into the game…will she be wary of the same things in a new relationship? For instance, what if she had found out that her husband, while being a wonderful husband and father in all other ways, was a conniving bastard at work who had cheated his way to position and wealth? Wouldn’t she then be concerned about anyone else she chose to date…to make sure that they were honest and wouldn’t cheat at anything? Given that, what difficulties would that create for a man who wants to get close to her, to get to know her? Suddenly, there is plenty of fodder for the story that the author hadn’t considered, and all because the author listened to his characters, rather than just put words in their mouths and accepted them.

Motivation is vital. Not just the motivation of the author, the requirements for the story, but the inner promptings of the characters. Get to know your characters. Let them tell you who you are. They will surprise you, and greatly strengthen your writing. One of the characters I wrote was supposed to be a minor character, the wife of a murdered man. But Mamie came into the story with such gusto that she demanded a larger role, and the story benefited from her enlarged presence.

While you have to plan your story, be open to surprises from your characters. After all, you’ve created them. Let them grow as necessary.

Ralph McInerny

I’m currently copy editing a new book about Robert McInerny, professor of Philosophy at Notre Dame for 54 years, renowned theologian, and prolific writer, both of philosophical books and fiction.

From what I’ve read, and researched on my own, the man was truly gifted and used those gifts prodigiously. If I’d known about him when I was selecting a graduate school, I might have chosen Notre Dame, just to study with him.

My mind boggles at McInerny’s accomplishments. I’m such a slacker. True, I edit all day and don’t really want to sit and read or write when I stop working, but what time I’m wasting by not doing so. I could be reading McInerny’s books, or the plethora of other authors on my To-Read list. I could be working on my own writing, rather than waiting for that day when I will be “free” to write.

True, I am working at my craft for hours every day, but what is my output? Nothing of my own, and there’s the rub. I’m helping others with their writing but ignoring my own and, worse, ignoring  magnificent works that I’ve never read.

It’s time to refocus. Of course I will continue my work: it’s what I love and it helps put food on the table. But I the time has come, the walrus said, to get back to the books! For my own enjoyment and edification.

I know I’ll still watch TV and movies, but I’ll allot time, grudgingly, away from the books…fiction, non-fiction, perhaps even poetry. Kindle and iPad, here I come.

Thanks to Ralph McInerny for spurring me on.

Make Characters Believable

In my class this semester, I am working with students on making their characters believable. One of the first “obstacles” to overcome is their tendency to want to describe each character in detail: hair color, height, weight, perfection of teeth, etc.

My task is to have them develop the characters fully in their mind’s eye, and then choose those elements of character that must be used, and those that must be set aside, for their knowledge alone, and perhaps to be used later as the story develops. It isn’t necessary for each character to be described exactly as the author sees them. Leave something to the reader’s imagination. If it isn’t vital that the woman is wearing a daffodil-yellow dress, simply mention the dress. And wouldn’t it be more interesting if a woman who dresses in the highest of fashions and has her face and body sculpted annually still smiles with crooked teeth? What does that say about her? It certainly makes her instantly more interesting than if she had perfect teeth.

I also spoke about the importance of names in character development, and how the name can create an immediate, if unconscious, expectation in the reader’s mind. A woman named Wonderly manifests a different expectation than does a woman named Malificent. And a villain named Mordred is much more menacing than one named Tubby.

Names can begin the expectations of character that will be further developed by physical and psychological description.