Our recent celebrations were muted, what mattered were the family groupings. I found myself taking a back seat, reflecting rather than yapping. Thinking about the way things had turned out over the years, when bad times had evolved into good times and then into unexpectedly even better times. With flaws of course.
A slow process which cannot be caught in the brevity of a
celebration. Worse still is how the language of celebration undermines the
good that is being celebrated. Ah, that tired vocabulary, unimaginative syntax
and vain attempts to emphasise phrases that have long since lost their ability
to connect with people. The pathetically dried-out husk known as cliché, in
short: dead language.
Theoretically dead language is no threat. “But we knew what
he was trying to say,” is the cry of those who see no harm in the cliché. Arguing
that the speaker had tried to articulate no doubt genuine feelings, had failed
and was simply “making do”. But if those feelings were truly genuine shouldn’t
we be ashamed of under-selling them? After all this might be the only occasion
we will have to express an important sentiment. And yet we’ve sent our listener
away with the echoes of a fifty-year-old ad slogan.
No doubt the first person to say he was “over the moon” got
a laugh. These days not an eyebrow rises. Unsurprising since the phrase dates
back to the 1700s. Unlike cheese and decent Bordeaux jokes don’t mature with
age.
But clichés may hide another grievous shortcoming: laziness.
People who believe themselves to be reasonably literate often resort to their
equivalent of the bovine lunar leap. It is, of course, difficult to put words
to feelings of sorrow or joy. Fact is, many don’t try. Or only as far as coming
up with a single word, usually an adjective, less desirably an adverb, most
abominably the catch-all “very”. Take heed: all the single-word solutions were
used up at about the time we went from BC to AD.
Significant happenings deserve effort, especially when
addressing, say, a recently bereaved widow or a five-year-old who has come last
in the sack race. Internally we may want to gush but gushing doesn’t parse
well. You could always try the initially unexpected:
To the widow: Jack
was hopelessly wrong saying no one would mourn. I, for one, am completely
gutted.
To the five-year-old:
I’m not at all surprised. Billy may have won but I overheard his parents say he
has a third leg. Hides it up his bum.
At my post-mortem
piss-up: That should shut him up.
Glad to have a word from you. I owe you a letter and will pay up soon! Much diminishes as we age but I don't think you'll ever lose your sense of humor, thank God.
ReplyDeleteThat was from Beth.
DeleteBeth: I have to remind myself that a sense of humour is a two-edged sword - a phrase which, incidentally, is preparing itself for shelf space in the huge warehouse devoted to storing clichés (See MikeM's awful discovery below).
DeleteFeeling imagination free in the face of this significant event, I searched up a list of cliches - hoping for inspiration. The cliches under “A” numbered just over two hundred, and they were all recognizable. Absolutely gruesome exposure and I did not fall into the “B”s.
ReplyDeleteI did recognize that a few were of Shakespearian origin, and perused that list. A long one.
The occasion here is obscure to me, just as you’d like it, but wishing you the best on this special day!
MikeM: Thank you for reading my mind.
ReplyDeleteI like clichés. I imagine they have absorbed some measure of cultural mojo from having been spoken out loud so many times. If I can use a good one at the right time, I will, laughing with glee.
ReplyDeleteColette: Why would repetition enhance anything? And are you absolutely sure you are aware of a cliché's true meaning (a hackneyed phrase or expression) Hackneyed being defined as "lacking in freshness or originality; meaningless because done or used too often"). In fact a "good cliché" is a contradiction in terms.
DeleteSomeone you liked dies and you wish to pay tribute to their memory. Would you be content to utter some word or expression straight out of the Trump vocabulary? The nation's greatest cliché monger.
I realise you may be trying to get up my nostrils but this is a very dangerous route.
I'm just disagreeing with you. I'm not trying to annoy you. There's always more than one way to look at something. Repetition creates patterns in the fine arts.
DeleteYour mind and your writing seem one and the same. I’m sure we share a deep hatred of greeting cards.
ReplyDeleteAnon: The mind is the tool, writing is the result. In between these two entities lies - somewhat uncomfortably - the power of invention. Often regarded as a sometime whore who could desert you at any fearful moment. There may be an infinite number of ways of saying the same thing; I strive to create a way that is new, arresting and - if poss - informative.
ReplyDeleteIronically the way I speak and the way I write are identical. A moment's consideration will show that this is a terrible affliction. When I write I may delete all the false starts; when I speak they're audible to all who listen. I've tried the patience of many.
Oh - that was just me anon-ing “on accident”. That one makes me grind my teeth (I prefer “by accident” - I grew up with it). But “on purpose” supports “on accident”. Let’s go with purposefully and accidentally. And I do regret the “peas in a pod” stretch. Not even marginally satisfactory.
ReplyDelete