Thinking with words

Until language has made sense of experience, that experience is meaningless.

Peter Farb, Word Play

Infants who have not yet mastered language nevertheless seem able to think. If they see a toy  a few feet away from them, they can crawl over and get it. They can distinguish the voice of their mother from that of others. Eventually they may figure out how to climb out of a crib by themselves.

Years later they will have no memory of any of this, however. If what Peter Farb says above is true, perhaps this helps explain why it is true. Perhaps we have no memory of our earliest years because we had no way of putting those experiences into language. Once we learn how to put experience into words, we can more easily remember it,

Language does seem to give meaning and memory to our experiences. Chances are you cannot remember what you had for lunch a week ago. But you might remember it if you told somebody about it, if you put the experience into words, even if only in your own mind. We do remember very special meals because we think about them and talk about them. Even then we probably remember our conversation at that meal more clearly than the food itself.

Dreams dissolve very quickly upon awakening. Yet when I quickly relive a dream in my mind, putting it into words, I find that I can remember it, sometimes for years. We may forget the dreams themselves, but we can remember our mental descriptions of them.

This may also help explain why our memories tend to change over the years. What we now remember may not be exactly what happened, as we can discover if we read what we wrote in a diary or a letter at the time. As we tell the story or relive it in our minds, we embellish it to make it a better story. And then we remember the embellishments more clearly than the actual occurrence.

Thinking, Farb says, "is language spoken to oneself." That may not be literally true, for as I have said, infants can think without language. So can animals. Yet most of us humans, once we learn language, do seem to do most of our thinking with words. Some thinking may be instinctual, as when we suddenly hit the brakes when a deer crosses the road ahead of us, but mostly we do our thinking with language. And we get meaning (and memory) from words more than from the experience itself.

You can't say that

Indeed, freedom of speech does not exist anywhere, for every community on earth forbids the use of certain sounds, words, and sentences in various speech situations.

Peter Farb, Word Play

Peter Farb

Peter Farb makes the point that when it comes to freedom of speech, culture is much more restrictive than government.

All of us all of the time must watch our language. There are words we might use with our friends that we would not use in front of our mother. Or pastor, Or boss. 

There is jargon we use routinely in our jobs that we don't take home with us. And there is language we use when speaking with our small children at home we dare not use at work.

There are things we may say to a spouse or a lover that we would never say to anyone else. And vice versa. One of the gags often used on the ad libbed TV show Whose Line Is It Anyway? involves things you can say about your house or your car or whatever that you can't say about your significant other. It's always funny. And always true.

Mere civility and politeness prevents us from telling people what we we really think about them.

Some things we cannot say because they are too personal, too painful.

Most censorship is, in fact, self-censorship.

Playing with language

Although it was published in 1973 and has become outdated in many ways, Peter Farb's Word Play remains an important book on the subject of "what happens when people talk," his subtitle.

Farb covers numerous aspects of spoken language — why learning languages is easy for children but difficult for adults, criminal slang, playing the dozens (word play common in black communities where the object is to insult one another's mother in amusing ways), lying, jargon, translation from one language to another, baby talk, artificial languages and on and on.

Playing with language is common in most cultures, he tells us. Just as American blacks play the dozens, in many cultures the ability to quickly come up with clever lines, sometimes in rhyme, can be a test of belonging or even of manhood. Hierarchy can sometimes be determined with speech rather than fists. He uses Marx Brothers movies as a prime example of first-rate word play in the United States.

Farb concludes that all human languages are alike in many respects. Yet they can sometimes be very different. In English, for example, we think of the future as being ahead of us, the past behind us. In the Quechua language of Peru, however, it is the past that lies ahead. A Quechua speaker "logically states that past events can be seen in the mind since they already happened, and therefore they must be in front of his eyes. But since he cannot 'see' into the future, these events must therefore be out of sight or 'behind' him."

It is differences like this can make translation so difficult. One place where his book seems dated is when he writes that using a computer to translate one language into another is impossible. Today many people have apps on their phones that can perform at least basic translation of major languages.

Who needs cookbooks?

Book critic Dwight Garner writes in his book The Upstairs Delicatessen that "reading cookbooks is how I unwind." And this is a man who reads books for a living.

Another bookish person, Shannon Reed, also writes about reading cookbooks fo fun in her book Why We Read.

I confess I never read cookbooks, even when I'm cooking. I just throw things together and see what happens. The trouble with recipes is that I never seem to have the necessary ingredients.

It baffles me that some people read cookbooks more for pleasure or relaxation than for help in the kitchen.  Garner says, "I read myself to sleep with them." And thus a cookbook can be bedtime reading, although the size of many cookbooks would seem to make them unwieldy in bed.

I do not read at bedtime — I may watch PlutoTV if I can't sleep — but sometimes during the day I may want something short and relaxing when I don't have enough time to open a novel or a serious work of nonfiction. I have a few options, other than cookbooks, for these moments.

I have collections of comic strips, for example. I particularly like my Bloom County and Calvin and Hobbes books.

I also love books containing movie reviews by Pauline Kael. I always find them enjoyable in short doses — and most of her reviews, originally printed in The New Yorker, are brief.

Early Dave Barry books also serve this purpose very well.  There is nothing like a good laugh for relaxation.

But if other people prefer cookbooks to unwind, that's fine with me.

Mental play

What makes the nursery rhyme so remarkable is that it encourages mental play.

Angus Fletcher, Wonderworks

I am old enough to remember those Dick and Jane readers. Dick, Jane, their sister Sally and their dog Spot were so ordinary. They were so well-behaved. Nothing truly funny, unusual, exciting or strange ever happened to them. I cannot imagine any child ever deliberately choosing to read about Dick and Jane.

Over the centuries most children's literature has been something like this, more instructive than fun. Yet most such books have been quickly forgotten. Nursery rhymes and fairy tales, meanwhile, stick around for centuries, and more recent creations such as Winnie-the-Pooh and the Dr. Seuss books seem to possess immortality, as well.

Angus Fletcher may have put his finger on the explanation — mental play. In his book, Wonderworks, he illustrates this with the nursery rhyme that begins "Hey diddle diddle,/The Cat and the Fiddle ..." He goes on, "What is a diddle? Why is a cat with a fiddle? How is a cow vaulting through space? And where is the spoon planning to go?"

It's all about mental play. Having fun with words. Imagining the impossible, Enjoying sounds that rhyme. Laughing at pure silliness.

Not only are the cat and fiddle more fun than Dick and Jane, they are probably more educational. Exciting minds is a good first step toward stimulating intelligence.

I recently commented on the book Surely You Can't Be Serious about the movie Airplane! That movie, it seems to me, may be a modern equivalent of nursery rhymes. It is amusing nonsense that may actually make us smarter.

Don't call me Shirley

Confronted by a book with the title Surely You Can't Be Serious, the only possible reply is, "I am serious, and don't call me Shirley."

The movie Airplane!, released in 1980, was the first Hollywood movie with three directors, David Zucker, Jim Abrahams and Jerry Zucker, also the authors of this 2023 book about the making of that groundbreaking film. Having three directors was not as difficult as one might think, they say. Majority ruled. Plus, all three of these Wisconsin natives shared the same sense of humor, which nobody else in Hollywood seemed to share at that time.

The key to the success of this comedy, thought by many to be the funniest movie ever made, was being completely serious, they tell us. Hollywood bigwigs insisted they needed someone with the comic stature of Chevy Chase or Bill Murray to make a funny movie. Instead they chose the most serious dramatic actors they could think of — Robert Stack, Lloyd Bridges, Peter Graves and Leslie Nielsen. Nielsen, of course, went on to become a comic genius in film after film, but he did it by always playing his roles seriously, just as this young trio taught him.

Every actor in the film was told to play each scene as if they were in a B-movie drama like Zero Hour!, the 1957 B-movie that it parodied. Having serious actors deliver ridiculous lines seriously worked. Audiences never stopped laughing, and still haven't after all these years. The comedy holds up remarkably well so many years later. (I have been watching several Airplane! scenes on YouTube lately, and each one makes me laugh as hard as I did the first time I saw them.)

The book takes the form of a movie screenplay, but with lots of stills from the movie. It is a compilation of quotes about what happened before, during and after the making of the movie. Many of the comments come from people like Jimmy Kimmel and Maya Rudolph who had nothing to do with making the movie but have fond memories of watching it.

The trio got away with many gags that would not have been allowed in other movies and would certainly be impermissible today. Yet the jokes are so funny and fly by so quickly that nobody seems to mind. Many parents have watched Airplane! with children too young to understand the jokes.

Reading this book is a poor substitute for watching the movie, but it makes a wonderful companion to it.

True, but misleading

In a restaurant the other evening, I saw a tall woman at another table. The adjective that came to mind was striking. Was she beautiful? No. Was she even attractive? Not really. Perhaps she once had been, but now she was simply striking. I don't remember the other three people at her table at all. Just her.

This experience reminded me that there are certain adjectives that can sound more flattering than they actually are. You might, for example, tell a large man that he is imposing. He will likely be pleased. Yet what you actually mean may be that he is tall or overweight.

I recall Olive Oyl in the movie Popeye trying to come up with something flattering to say about Bluto, the man she was expected to marry. The best she could come up with was large.

People often asked to write recommendations for others probably become masters at words that sound better than intended. They may want to say something about the job applicant that can be interpreted as positive. A word like personable might actually mean that the person spends more of his or her working hours talking than working. A word like commanding might suggest leadership qualities, when the word bossy may be what the writer actually has in mind.

Real estate agents are also masters at words and phrases that sound better than what is actually being described.

Most of us want to be truthful without giving offense, and we may need a few such words in our arsenal for certain occasions. And thus had I been asked, I could have described that woman in the restaurant as striking and slept very well that night.