In general, the greatest masters of dialect are those who use dialects associated with their own childhood, such as Riley, with the Hoosier dialect, Day, with the Maine Yankee dialect, or Harris, with that of the colored people of Georgia. True dialect must always be the result of sympathy and identification.
Many writers have been led by a study of peculiar types and through natural imaginative sympathy or humor to understand and appreciate a specific dialect. Dunbar thus writes many of his poems in the peculiar dialect of his race. The reader need not be told that many of his poems are monologues. For a perfect type see “Ne’er Mind, Miss Lucy.” Dunbar was led, no doubt, by genuine sympathy or dramatic instinct, to write in the dialect of his race some of his most tender as well as his more humorous poems.
Dr. Drummond, of Montreal, after many experiences among the French Canadians, has written several volumes of monologues in which he has introduced to the world some peculiar types of the French Canadian. Their quaint humor is portrayed with genuine and profound sympathy, and these poems are capable of very intense dramatic interpretation, and are deservedly popular. He preserves not only the peculiarity of the words, but the melodic and rhythmic movement of the dramatic spirit of his characters.
DIEUDONNÉ
If I sole ma ole blind trotter for fifty dollar cash
Or win de beeges’ prize on lotterie,
If some good frien’ die an’ lef’ me fines’ house on St. Eustache,
You t’ink I feel more happy dan I be?
No, sir! An’ I can tole you, if you never know before,
W’y de kettle on de stove mak’ such a fuss,
W’y de robbin stop hees singin’ an’ come peekin’ t’roo de door
For learn about de nice t’ing’s come to us—
An’ w’en he see de baby lyin’ dere upon de bed
Lak leetle Son of Mary on de ole tam long ago—
Wit’ de sunshine an’ de shadder makin’ ring aroun’ hees head,
No wonder M’sieu Robin wissle low.
An’ we can’t help feelin’ glad too, so we call heem Dieudonné;
An’ he never cry, dat baby, w’en he’s chrissen by de pries’;
All de sam’ I bet you dollar he’ll waken up some day,
An’ be as bad as leetle boy Bateese.
There is great danger, however, in employing dialect. When the accidental is made the essential, when dialect is put forward as something interesting in itself, or adopted as a mere affectation, or where used by writer or reader independent of the spirit of the poem, of the story, or even of the character, and is regarded as something capable of entertaining by the mere effect of imitation, it becomes insipid and a hindrance.
Genuine dialect is dramatic. A dialect too literally reproduced will be understood with great difficulty, and the reading will cause no enjoyment. The fact must be recognized that dialect is only accidental as a means of expression, and hence is justified only when necessary to the portrayal of character, or in manifesting a unique spirit, point of view, or experience.
Some of the best examples of the dramatic character of dialect in the monologue are found in Kipling. His Tommy Atkins is so vividly portrayed that he must necessarily speak in the peculiar manner of a British soldier. Kipling has so identified himself with certain characters that their dramatic assimilation requires dialectic interpretation, as in the case of “Fuzzy-Wuzzy,” “Danny Deever,” and “Tommy.” When dialect is thus inevitable from the dramatic point of view, it is legitimate.
In fact, while dialect is grotesque and accidental, and even stands upon a low plane, yet, by intense poetic realization, it may be lifted into a more exalted place. Energy has been called the father, and joy the mother, of the grotesque. Humor is not inconsistent with the greatest pathos; in fact, it is necessary to it. The grotesque sometimes becomes the Gothic.
In “Shamus O’Brien,” a monologue formerly popular, many of the characters speak in dialect. Shamus, however, seems to use less dialect on account of the dignity of his character and speech. In all such cases, the accidental becomes less pronounced in proportion to the emphasis of the essential. The dialect of the whole poem may be explained by the fact that an Irishman tells the story.