One of the things I love most about working with words is that I will never reach the point where I can say, “There, now. I’ve learned it all.” Love, love learning new things. Especially when it’s something I can share with all of you.
So, have you ever heard of phonesthesia or sound symbolism? Basically, it’s the idea that the sound of a word plays into it’s perceived meaning. That there are certain words that sound like what they mean—glide, gleam, glimmer, for example. Often in English, the gl combination has a “feel” or “sound” of smoothness or sleekness. So those words, to an English-speaker’s ear, sound like their meanings. But what happens when the sound of a word and its meaning don’t mesh?
Well…fun! That’s what happens.
Think about it. What a great quirk for a character in a novel to use words that sound harsh but mean lovely things, or the other way ‘round. Such as:
Pulchritude. It doesn’t sound like it means beauty, does it? So you could have said character say to his beloved, “Ah, my pulchritudinous darling, I do love you.” And said darling cold promptly slap him for the (perceived) insult.
Crepuscular. Sounds like something horrid, doesn’t it? Something to do with serial killers and blood? In reality, it refers to things relating to or active at twilight. So your heroine could gaze out at the early evening and opine to those near her, “This crepuscular light puts me in mind of my childhood.” And those listening take a step back and eye her, this woman speaking so fondly of something so clearly…creepy!
Then there are words that, by virtue of association with other words, are misunderstood:
Restive. “You’re a restive kind of person, aren’t you?” Well, with rest in there this is obviously a compliment, right? The speaker must be saying that person is calm, serene. Um…no. A restive person is someone who is agitated or can’t stand to be still.
Likewise, choleric, with the immediate connection to cholera, can be interpreted by some to mean a person is sickly. But it actually means that person is irritable and hot-tempered. So your character could say to someone, “You’re a choleric sort, aren’t you?” And the reply comes fast and furious, “Why, I’ve never been sick a day in my life!”
I’ll end with an example from real life. Someone at a writers’ conference once said to me, “You must be a sanguine.”
I frowned. “I don’t think so. What makes you say that?”
“Well, you’re always smiling, and so animated and encouraging.”
Now I was really confused. Because, with the long vowel and diphthong in there, sanguine has always sounded to me like it describes someone who is emotionless, so laid back that she doesn’t care about what’s happening around her. Maybe even a bit depressed.
But what sanguine really means is that someone is optimistic and cheerful.
So there I was, a writer and editor at a writers’ conference, assigning meaning based on how something sounded to me.
Yup. Phonesthesia.
Just one more thing to love about working with words.
You Might As Well Face It, You’re Addicted to Input
I smiled all through reading this.
I know the word pulchritude, but crepuscular had me ehm…
Is there a difference between phonesthesia and onomatopoeia?
Thank you Ms Ball for something to laugh about. And for a new word in my vocabulary.
Ah, yes, Karen. I love the sound of words also. That’s probably why Dr.Seuss is one of my favorite writers. What a great post.
And, Michael, onomatopoeia refers to words sounding exactly like their meaning. The hum of the engine, the tintinnabulation of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells…
Like you, I love learning and this is a fun one! I use something similar for humorous words. The sound of some words make people chuckle quicker than others. Now you’ve given me new fodder. Thank you!
Funny thing about ‘sanguine’ is the connotation to blood, and the first time I heard the word it was as part of ‘exsanguinated’, as in, ‘bled out’.
Not optimistic and cheerful unless it’s applied to someone you really don’t like!
Anyone else avoid using words because you hate how they look, or how they make your mouth feel when you try to pronounce them? Like chrysanthemum. BLeHcK. Or bourgeois, which reminds me of boogers.
How fun! I love your ideas for using these kinds of words in dialogue to make for an amusing interaction. It is funny how words seem like they should all sound neutral, yet you were spot on with how words like pulchritude and crepuscular are perceived when the meaning is unknown. Thanks for the laugh 🙂
I love words, too. Being a retired English teach, I can usually figure out the meaning of the word by its context. Your use of a few of the words brought a smile. I loved saying onomatopoeia when teaching English and watching the glazed over expression in my student’s eyes.
I would call you a sanquine as well. I took a personality test and that’s what I am, too. Sanquines are laid back in that sometimes we can be very disorganized in an organized sort of way. Confusing isn’t it? The most prominent traits are smiling and being cheerful, encouraging others, enjoy being around people. That’s you exactly.
Hehe – Thanks for making me smile today!
Too many big words for me. Tho, I’ve always thought grits to be the most aptly named food.
(Does that count?!)
Love words, too. The one thing that we can have as much of and as many of–for free!
What about those words that represent a sound;
crash
clunk
smash
dunk
drip
slobber
bark
scuff
sizzle
and the list goes on and on…
And then there are words that represent the transcendent, in sound and meaning…
Xin loi.
Pronounced ‘sin loi’, it’s the Vietnamese expression that can embody the height of empathy, and the depth of callousness. “I am with you”, and “tough s***”.
And the meaning is most profound when both extremes are combined into the one.
In mountain lion country, a crepuscular critter might just be looking for a taste of blood. Just saying there are places in the Southwest where strolling alone at dusk isn’t the best idea.
Anyone who has watched Akeelah and the Bee knows “pulchritude.” That’s one of my husband’s favorite sports movies. The talented underdog, the flawed coach, parental pressure driving fear of failure: a great sports movie where the projectiles being tossed in the cauldron of competition are words.
Fun words to say:
Quixotic
Bulbous
Macadamia
Superfluous
Blatant
Acerbic
Lollygag
Shenanigans
Discombobulate
Ocular
Zamboni
And not least?
“Karen Ball is brilliant.”
Amen to the last one. Karen Ball is something very special.
Delightful and informative! I’ve adopted a line from Francis Flaherty’s book, ” The Elements of Story” as my signature saying.
“Let words bewitch you. Scrutinze them, mull them, savor them, and in combination, until you see their subtle differences and the ways they tint each other.” Francis Flaherty
I. too, am hooked on words. 🙂
Thanks Karen, I am a lover of all things “words.” You made me smile. Hubby and I often have caused others to shake their heads because we even like to “read” the dictionary to learn new words or guess meanings. Keep up the good work!
I love this post! There are certain words that sound truly married to the object they represent. Like gossamer. I love the sound–and feel–of the word. But for fun, I love the contract between “Little Italy” and “colossal olive.” One is all tongue at the front of your mouth, the other all back of your throat. And Zimbabwe. That word makes my teeth vibrate.
Zamboni, Macadamia, Quixotic… Hmm.. Mr Laube, do you think readers would be tired of a book ladened with such words?
Carol Ashby, Akeelah and the bee was a guide I used when preparing for a similar competition three years ago. The movie has stayed with me since. And my favorite word in it is ‘supercilious’.
That is a great word, Michael, and I hope it never describes either of us! True humility is my goal, and I’m very proud of the progress I’m making toward it.
Enjoyed this emensely.
Love words and all things word related. Current favorite phrase after a rough day with my daughter–projectile puking!