“Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest heart” -Patrick Rothfuss.
I have been thinking alot recently about words. There were several reasons for this. Firstly, I was finding it hard to get anything at all down on paper and had the distinct sensation that there was traffic jam of words in my head. Every so often, a nicely crafted sentence would strut across my brain and then bolt in terror before it found its way into the immortal land of writing. I was also reading The God of Small Things which is such a gloriously lyrical book, a celebration of words, every sentence achingly beautifully and evocative. The whole book is a work of art, and a powerful testament to the magic that happens when you put the right words in the right order at the right time. At a time when I was struggling to write even the blandest sentence about the blandest thing, Arundhati Roy’s craftsmanship had the words in my head scrambling over each other in a desperate effort to remain concealed from the world. My words just did not feel adequate enough. I also went to see a moving and striking documentary about the life and work of the late Tim Hetherington, a photo journalist who communicated the rawest aspects of humanity without needing words. I was truly struck by this idea that someone could produce work that communicated so much, so effectively and so silently.
Words are something we often take for granted. They connect us with the world, with other people, with stories written long before our own lives began. We rely on them to be the thing that makes us heard in the world, the thing that enables us to express love, anger, hurt, joy, frustration. We rely on them to create memories and then reclaim them. We cling on to them, choose to forget them, replay them over and over in our heads and hearts. They can make us cry and laugh, they can swell your heart and make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.They can be iconic. They can be the thing that comes back to haunt you. When they are carelessly used they can deeply wound and manipulate. When they are delivered thoughtfully and with compassion they can soothe the most troubled soul. Words are a weapon; it is merely up to us what use we put them to.
Everyone has words, or a version of words. But not everyone has voice. No voice means disempowerment and lack of agency over your own life. It’s not that voiceless people don’t have words, it’s simply that nobody listens to them and the chosen belief is that they have nothing important to say. Not giving voice to peoples words is akin to dismissing their place on the planet. Communities all over the world have been robbed of their voice; these are the people at the margins looking quietly on while everyone else shouts over each other to make sure their own message is heard.
Finding your own voice is both a natural and a creative process. The physical finding of voice simply gives form to the words. A child’s first words are a momentous landmark event (although my mother tells me she can’t remember mine; this is what happens when you’re the fourth child!). What start out as sounds coherent only to parents soon become the main players in the great game of communicating your needs, wants and whims to the outside world. My nephew is experimenting with words. He is learning that he can use them to express the wonders that go on in his imagination and make his stories come alive. He is learning that he can use them to make people laugh, gain recognition, and he is certainly learning that he can use them to get his way! This is just the beginning of his lifelong journey with words.
Finding your creative voice can be a trickier process. In a recent creative writing class we talked alot about creative voice and at the time it felt, and still does feel, like something of a holy grail only achieved by the gifted few. But I guess finding your creative voice is simply another leg of your lifelong journey with words. Tim Hetherington found a creative voice that was essentially wordless and yet his photos throw countless words, emotions and possibilities at you in a split second. Arundhati Roy’s creative voice is so rich and evocative that you can almost reach out and touch it. For those who do succeed in finding their creative voice, the result can be profound, inspiring, iconic.
My relationship with words is complex and surprising, like all great relationships. There are times when the words come tumbling out. There are times when the words that find their way out take me completely by surprise. There are times when I will the words back in, only to discover that they have disappeared to a place beyond my reach. There are times when the words stomp around and around in my head, refusing to align themselves into any semblance of order and eventually driving me to distraction. There are times when they lurk in the shadows like shy children and have to be coaxed out of hiding. There are times when I desperately search for the right words, in the right order, at the right time, but they remain elusive, slipping through my grasp like smoke. And quite simply, sometimes there are no words.
Sometimes I hide from the words and shoo them away to join their counterparts skulking around in word limbo. Sometimes I feel that there are so many words all jostling to get out that they become stuck, wedged solid and refusing to budge. Sometimes I feel that my words are inadequate and the task of getting the right words out in the right order at the right time seems an impossibility. But what it boils down to is that I love words. I love their power and possibility, I love crafting them into something memorable (or something unmemorable as the case may be). I love how words can bring to life people you have never met, places you have never been, events you have never witnessed. It is a good thing that words have been playing hide and seek with me these past few weeks, as it has given me a deeper appreciation for them, aswell as for the great gift that the lottery of life has given me in having a voice in this world.I will continue with my exciting and tumultuous relationship with words, in the hope that some day I can convince the best words I have to come out in the right order. At the right time.
Cosa Siúlacha 