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I was chatting with a good friend of mine the other day and she mentioned to me that her boyfriend has this uncanny ability to melt her with his words. Not his spoken words mind you, his written words. They make her go all weak at the knees when he sends her a message when he isn't physically "there".
This made me wonder. Wonder just how exactly can words provoke such a reaction in a person, whether for good or ill. I know in my gut that words are powerful, that's obvious but WHY are they powerful, that's my question. Studies in body language and communication have shown that only 7% of the message that you convey to someone person to person is through your words. 38% is tone of voice and 55% is based on what people see in your body language. So what happens when you remove the face to face element, when all that is left is words?
Look at the popularity of novels, genre novels are flying off the shelves, whether in paper form or the new Kindle style readers. Recently we have seen the phenomena of Dan Brown, Stephanie Meyer and JK Rowling books and the impact they are having on people. Millions of novels are sold each year and people escape into an adventure, a romance, a thriller or a mystery - all sculpted by skilful authors. I wish I knew their secret but I don't know if I would have it in me to write such a thing.
Again I can see the popularity of novels but I return to the question of why. What makes the written word hold so much influence over our minds, our thoughts and our emotions?
I invite your comments on why you think this is but first I would like to put forward my own thoughts on the subject.
Words, written language, hold the keys to unlock our psyche. The part of our mind that we store in our subconsious and the part that holds our IMAGINATION. Somehow when we read, some visual response is sent to the centres of our imagination and a word triggers a thought, an impulse, or a reaction. There are some links to what we write and what we read - they are not necessarily the same things.
Lets have a look at some words and see what responses are triggered. I am curious to know if they have similar meanings to you as they do to me.
Breath
Abundance
Enigmatic
Juvenile
Behave
Kiss
Tense
Love
Hate
Depression
Mischief
Each of those words provokes some sort of reaction in me, but not on their own. When I look at them my mind automatically puts them into context. Therefore when I think of Mischief I think of being mischievous, a glint in my eye and a grin on my face. I think of being playfully cheeky, its a spirit of adventure, fun, élan. Does your mind put words into context too? If I were reading words without context it would be like reading a Dictionary cover to cover - very dry! However, when read in context my imagination kicks in, fills in the blanks, reads between the lines and paints a bigger picture.
Imagination takes you to a place in your mind that only you can access. It can create pictures and colours, hate and fear, or, as in the words of my friend, make your heart melt.
If I can sum up my thoughts on this matter then I fully believe that the power of words lies in both how we read them and the context we put on them, aided by the imagination our own minds provide. I think therefore I am , I read therefore I escape. Imagination leads to escapism and escapism lets us live in our imagination.
Hmmm I feel I am getting a little jumbled here. I can feel my thoughts getting muddled.
Let me wrap this up by saying a couple of more things. Written words have always had the power to move us. Poetry has always been popular because it taps directly into that centre of our imagination. The poetry of Elizabeth Barrett does things to me, things I can't really understand. I put forward this example of her poetry for you to read, may it have a resonance in your soul as it has in mine.
My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
And yet they seem alive and quiveringAgainst my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee to-night.
This said,--he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand . . . a simple thing,
Yet I wept for it!--this . . . the paper's light . . .
Said, Dear I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine--and so its ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast.
And this . . . O Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!
And yet they seem alive and quiveringAgainst my tremulous hands which loose the string
And let them drop down on my knee to-night.
This said,--he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To come and touch my hand . . . a simple thing,
Yet I wept for it!--this . . . the paper's light . . .
Said, Dear I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if God's future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine--and so its ink has paled
With lying at my heart that beat too fast.
And this . . . O Love, thy words have ill availed
If, what this said, I dared repeat at last!
Context and Imagination. This I leave with you and invite your comments.
Cap'n
