Duality of Voice

by Emil Sutro

IDIOMATIC EXPRESSION

Although it is a well known fact that every language has an idiomatic expression, an intonation of its own, I am not aware of any attempt ever having been made at definitely stating what such expression, or intonation, really consists in; and in what respect it differs, as between one language and another. Yet this fact should be the most important of all in connection with ethnological studies. It is necessary to know what a people's idiomatic expression is before we can begin to make a study of its language, in comparison with that of any other people, by which we may expect to arrive at conclusions of any real value in an ethnological sense.

In comparison with idiomatic expression, the study of the roots of words and their derivation, it appears to me, is of but secondary importance; idiomatic expression being the kernel in which the tree of national expression had its incipiency, its origin. It is the life which pulsates through its veins, in which it has its stay and maintenance; the nerves which tingle with its intelligence, its genius, its soul. Take away this soul, and it ceases to exist. For every language there must have been a strong impulse making an impression before there could have been any expression at all. This impulse must have been of so powerful and continuous a nature as to have left its impression upon the minds of a sufficiently large number of people to form the nucleus for the expression of a specific language, and, in so doing, constituting such people a nation.

I have already stated that it is motion in the first instance which superinduces a specific mode of breathing and consequent expression. It is to motion, then, that we must ascribe the first impulse. Such motion may have been active as to defense against enemies, wild beasts, or the elements; or it may have been passive, consisting of the continuous noise produced by the motion of the sea, tempests, or thunder-storms, making a great and lasting impression. Then, again, the influence may have been of a peaceful, balmy, beneficial nature, as with people living in security, in a mild climate and on fertile lands. The stronger the expression of these movements, the stronger the impression they made and the more powerful the expression of the language; the softer and more harmonious their expression, the softer and the more rhythmical the expression of the language. These influences made their first impression by superinducing a mode of breathing in conformity therewith.

Thus sounds giving expression to pain, perhaps, in the first instance, or to sorrow, joy, surprise, etc., were made in conformity with this, their specific mode of breathing. These outcries, consisting of syllables, grew into words and sentences, which, being uttered in conformity and sympathy with their special mode of breathing, created a specific idiomatic expression. The same process, from its first inauguration, and with but slight alterations, has been practised and persisted in by the same people from the beginning to the present time. With the English people, as already mentioned, no migration, no invasion, no conqueror, no matter how powerful, has been able to swerve it from its path. The most these invaders could do was to graft some of the expressions in which their ideas were clad, some words, on to this aboriginal stem. This stem was so strong in its primeval conception that it could bear all these exotic graftings without losing its character, absorbing all, welcoming all beneath the widespread roof and homestead of its branches. It proved its superiority over the idiomatic expression of these foreign tongues by its survival, as the fittest.

[Before proceeding further, I want to remark: these studies having been made from an Anglo-Saxon point of view, it is just possible that a preponderance of observations may have been made on that side; while, if they had been made from a German standpoint, the preponderance most likely would be on that side. This, no doubt, will be the case should I at any future period be able to write all this, as I intend to, in the German language.]

What is this original sap in the English, and what is it in the German language?

The aborigines of the British Isles, living apart from their continental brethren, became possessed of an idiom different and apart from any other. It was the idiom of the sea, by which they were surrounded; the motion and commotion of the waves, the surf, the incoming and outgoing tides, their undertow and overflow; the waves advancing toward the shore, their breaking against it, and their final retreat from the same.

The English language is a raft living upon the ocean. You can hear the waters rushing through it and on to the shore and back again. You can feel the waves rising up to gigantic heights, and then falling to and below the level of the sea. You can feel the undertow in its reserve force, quiet and subdued like the lull before the storm, yet capable of almost any demonstration. You can feel all this in the strength and vigor of its diction as expressed in its prose and poetry. This is not a mere poetical conception, but a truth capable of actual, practical demonstration.

While reading poetry or prose, or while singing, fancy seeing in your mind's eye the ocean with its waters in commotion, either the open sea or the surf near the shore, and you will feel every word you utter mingle with its waves. These pictures will never disturb your fancy, but will associate with it in perfect harmony. Now substitute for the picture of the ocean and its tumult some rural picture, as of a field of grain or the branches of trees tossed by the wind, or the flow of a river, or even that of the sea itself when perfectly calm. Keep such picture before you exactly as you did that of the sea in commotion. While reading, speaking, or singing English you will not be able to hold such picture; it will soon disturb you, and to such an extent that you must cease thinking of it, or be obliged to stop your reading, singing, etc.

The impression made by the ocean, in fact, is so great that it dominates the thought and the entire being of English-speaking people. This is the case to such an extent that if you continue to persistently think of any other image than the ocean, even without uttering any sound whatever, it will so greatly perturb you that you will be unable to continue thinking at all. You may, on the other hand, continue to think for an indefinite period of the image of the ocean without experiencing any disturbance whatever.

While the basic element of the English language is closely affiliated with the ocean, that of the German language is affiliated with the woods, and the blowing of the winds. In their habitation in the forest, the wind made so deep an impression on the primeval inhabitants of Germany that you can feel its soughing pervade all German diction.

If you are a German keep the picture of the woods before you and the soughing of the wind through the tree-tops, and it will harmonize with German thought and diction. Substitute a picture of the ocean for it, or almost any other picture, and you will not be able to vocally utter German thought, nor will you be able to continue thinking in the German language at all.

In place of conjuring up these pictures in your mind's eye you can substitute real pictures representing these scenes, and while contemplating them the effect will be the same.

After pursuing the picture of the ocean for a while, say: "English;" after pursuing that of the woods, say: "Deutsch;" either will come quite naturally, but you cannot reverse them. If you attempt it, these words will not be forthcoming.

While with English diction there is a pause and then an emphasis as of the waves coming on and then breaking against the shore, so, with German diction, there is an emphasis and then a pause, as of the blowing of the wind succeeded by a calm. These, in a word, are the characteristic elements in the idiomatic expressions of these peoples; English idiomatic expression being low succeeded by loud; German, loud succeeded by low.

The influence of the ocean with its continuous uproar formulated the speech and character of the English nation into one of strength and reality, with its centre of gravity in the abdomen. The peaceful influence of their habitation in the woods, together with the impression made by the wind, the singing of birds, etc., formulated the speech and character of the German nation into one more of ideality, with its centre of gravity in the thorax.

The fondness of the English for the sea, their supremacy thereon, etc., need not be amplified upon:

"Wherever billows foam
The Briton fights at home,
His hearth is built of water."

The fondness of the Germans for the woods is equally noted: Der "dunkle," "zauberische," "geheimnissvolle," "heilige"—Wald (The "darkly deep," "magical," "mysterious," and "sacred" woods) are but common expressions.

There is not a word in the English language of the same significance as that of "Der Wald." It embraces many ideas, of which the words "the woods" and "the forest" are not expressive. These, in a literal translation, find expression in the words "Das Gehoelz" and "Der Forst," which are of a more realistic nature.

The English language, on the other hand, is full of expressions applying to nautical matters and to the sea, for which there are no adequate expressions in the German language.

The fondness of the present Emperor of Germany for the sea must be attributed to the English blood flowing in his veins. While it is his desire to create a powerful navy, the people of Germany are indifferent to, and obstruct rather than assist, the accomplishment of this desire.

Idiomatic expression, the soul of language, has its incipiency in the soul of a people, and may pervade it for centuries before the body of the language, the words in which its thoughts are clad, makes its appearance. It must have taken many centuries more before these words grouped themselves into sentences and assumed the shape of speech. The words may change, but the idiomatic expression will always remain the same.

So, also, must the soul of man have had existence for an indefinite period of time before a body was formulated to clothe it in. The spiritual cell, if I may be permitted to use such an expression, must have existed before the material; or, in other words, the spiritual cell must have made its appearance long before the material cell commenced to make its appearance.