The power of words

I've almost come to the end of my holidays and what's struck me the most this time was how wonderful it is to be around little children. I've spent quite a bit of time with my own three-year old as well as his two cousins, one the same age as Gabriel and the little girl is about to turn two.

It's an age of discovery - and discoveries come fast and furiously at this age. Things have to be experienced to be understood and believed - it's very little use saying to the almost-two-year old: "Be careful, you'll fall and hurt yourself" - this is not understood with the full intensity it conveys. They are words which in fact carry very little meaning until they are associated with an action. And as for the three-year olds - words now carry far more meaning, but their limits are still being tested out. So when you say: "If you show the toy to her (the younger sister) she'll want it and you'll upset her." And lo and behold, the toy is shown and the reaction is carefully observed - almost sadistically (if you can say that of a child). But I genuinely believe it is done with an intent to test out the power of language and words and ideas and reactions. It's a little laboratory - in which everyday experiences take on significant importance in terms of character building, understanding the dynamics of social interaction, but most of all, understanding that words have meaning.

Words are played with just for the pleasure of the sound. The almost-two-year old repeats the words we say - she plays around with the sound: different tones, different intonation, said inside a cup to hear the muffled sound, screamed into your ear, sung in long streams of repeated words. There is a clear pleasure in playing with words. The three year old has already been molded by school and uses words in carefully phrased songs, uses chunks of language with the chosen words in almost the correct contexts. The power of language, when used effectively, is being understood - as is the power of slience and not using words - just using eyes, a wry smile or going into a sulk. The change from being two and being three and understanding the power of words is spectacularly wonderful and beautiful to watch.

And in the case of my own son, who is still struggling with his language acquisition, the lack of language is frustrating for him. Sounds and actions substitute the words which don't come out yet. How do you give meaning when you lack the power of words? How do you show you understand without having the words? You resort to action. You even resort to physical aggression against yourself and others.

But sometimes you also resort to laughter....there is a way in which some words are said which make them sound funny - words can tickle your senses and make you laugh. Gabriel now finds a couple of words really funny and bursts out laughing. I always remember my brother who used to roll around whenever I said "Who's a pretty little crocodile!" Weird! I think my brother still doesn't know till today why that was funny!

But as I said before, the power of words lies in the ability of someone to listen and give it it's full meaning. So "mama" can be said with different intonations and you begin understanding the differences and decoding the meaning.

It also means this: in a world in which we have so little time to listen to each other, how much time do we dedicate to these little ones who do need so much quality listening time? I for one am sure I need to say less and listen more.

The Reader and Atonement

So far my holidays have given me the chance to catch up on my reading and viewing. Nothing like a couple of hours to read a book through cover to cover. And that's what I did yesterday with Bernhard Schlink's "The Reader". Apart from being a compelling read, it is quite a short book and I felt that it would be sacrilegious to stop half-way and go and eat something – just had to get to the end of it. Haven’t seen the film yet, but I imagine it should be very interesting with Stephen Daldry as the director and scriptwriter David Hare (who wrote the script for “The Hours”).

And I read the book two days after I’d seen McEwan’s “Atonement” on DVD. This time I’ve seen the film and not read the book yet (Guilherme, please lend me your copy!). Another wonderful film. And I felt after yesterday that both book and film didn’t come round my way these last few days by coincidence – they are linked in many ways, the themes of war, post-war, death, love, relationships, guilt, remorse, repulsion, sexual desire – they’re all there in both works. And interesting that I come across both works just after Easter…..

This whole issue of guilt and remorse – how do we all deal with these feelings? They are so inbred in us because of our Christian background and we feel guilty about the smallest things. But what about feeling guilty about big issues? How do you actually deal with this? Doesn’t the enormity of it just cause confusion? Isn’t this the case with Briony in Atonement? Or how about not being able at all to conceive you are guilty of something? What if there is a numbness and complete lack of awareness of what you are doing? Can someone be so egocentrical that they can’t conceive what they are doing? Is this the case with Hannah? This reminds me of Richard III’s soliloquy just before the Battle of Bosworth when he awakes, all confused, from a nightmare which is a moment of insight into what he has done:

What? do I fear myself? there's none else by:
Is there a murtherer here? No. Yes, I am:
Then fly: what! from myself? Great reason: why?
Lest I revenge. What? myself upon myself?
Alack! I love myself. Wherefore? for any good
That I myself have done unto myself?

And this is, for me, the confusion which guilt brings – people see themselves for who they really are and it’s a really awful picture (a bit like Dorian Grey).

But guilt is present in our daily lives (in a smaller scale of course – I hope!). Is guilt something we use to show us the good things we do and we are capable of doing? What motivates us to donate money to charity, to give to a beggar, to pamper our children and spoil them, to spend hours helping someone out? Is it just pure altruism? How good is being good!!!! Can I be good without being bad?

Sorry, very dark and deep thoughts (but the film and book do dwell on these things) and I thought I needed to get them out into the open, into the light rather than just dwell on them by myself and dream about them.