Shakespeare’s Genius Is Nonsense
nautil.us
nautil.us
[1]: http://www.pronouncingshakespeare.com/
[2]: See, for example, the recitation of Sonnet 116 at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bt7OynPUIY8.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gPlpphT7n9s
He also makes use of puns that you will only notice when using OP. I believe one of the examples they talk about is:
"From forth the fatal loins of these two foes"
Where "loins" and "lines" are pronounced in the same way, so it's actually a pun, where "loins" refer to physical loins and "lines" refer to their genealogical lines.
Words like move, remove, prove used to be pronounced with the long [o:] sound before the Great Vowel Shift (which is how they got their spelling), and by Shakespeare's time they moved to [u:], which they retained until modern times. I tried to find any evidence other than the love- rhymes that these words could be pronounced with a short [ʌ] sound, and couldn't.
On the other hand, "love" was probably pronounced usually with a short [u] sound, the same sound we use today in "put". All the words with u in a closed syllable used that sound as well, like "cut", "but", "cup" "sun" etc. The change from this [u] to [ʌ] happened after Shakespeare's time, mostly later in the 17th century, resulting in the familiar pronunciation of "but" "cup" "sun", but leaving after it a fair number of exceptions that refused to follow the change, such as "put" "push" etc.
"prove" and "love" did rhyme when Shakespeare used them; but perhaps the rhyme was a bit inexact, rhyming long [u:] of "prove/move/remove" and short [u] of "love" (but still much more exact than modern [u:] and [ʌ] of course). Or, as Charles Barber claims in his "Early Modern English" (unwieldly Google Books links: http://bit.ly/1uI7SWQ), "love" was exceptional in having a variant [u:] pronunciation especially beloved by poets, precisely because they could use it to rhyme it with handy words like "prove" and "move". Either way, the love/move rhyme did not sound at all the way Ben Crystal pronounces it.
On the other hand, I tend to suspect that [u], if it occurred, would be accepted as an exact rhyme for [u:]. Any line-final [u] in a poem would sort of necessarily be promoted to [u:], though.
On an unrelated note, are there areas that use a [lʊv] pronunciation of "love" today? That might explain the to-me odd use of "lurve" in humor.
According to http://www.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/english/lurve:
"Origin - 1930s: as a parody of the pronunciation of love in popular romantic songs."
I believe [ʊ] used to be [u], but I don't remember when this quality change happened.
I think there are still current dialects in the center and north of England where this split didn't happen, so they would have [lʊv]. Here's an interesting self-aware example: http://linguistics.stackexchange.com/questions/6911/understa...
What a neat example!
I am reading a book on syntactic pattern recognition, and if I may quote from the chapter on 'elements of formal language theory':
"Observers are not led by the same physical evidence to the same picture of the universe unless their linguistic backgrounds are similar or can in some way be calibrated ~Benjamin Lee Whorf"
But this is not the case. The sciences, for example, would be impossible without the routine creation of new language, and once you admit language creation into the fold as a basic linguistic ability you've lost pretty much all the force of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis as a limit on our understanding. Linguistic background is a weak and temporary barrier to reaching any particular picture of the universe based on the physical evidence because whenever our linguistic background impedes us we create new language.
Shakespeare, famous for his neologisms, is a great example of this process, obviously, and language creation is an area where the sciences and the arts overlap very heavily that so far as I know has never been properly studied.
The idea that your language forms unbreakable shackles around your soul has apparently been unreasonably popular for a very long time :/
The other is even more nonsense :-)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-QoGKj6YQM
:)
The Shakespeare expert wrote a book (more than a decade ago!) on how Shakespeare is a genius apparently for controlling and using the nonsense in his verses.
Much ado (the linkbait quality title) about connoisseur (as in xkcd).
I wonder what translation of Shakespeare, to Italian for example, Booth prefers. Translators can make the archaic stuff accessible again, and so maybe the italian crowd gets the jokes that are lost on the english one.
I've heard bits of Shakespeare in German, and I think it was pretty well done. Any good translation is going to effectively be a whole new work of art that tries to capture something of the essence of the original. But the beauty of Shakespeare is the language.
When foreign translators are doing Shakespeare, they are trying to capture the whole essence, not just a literal extraction of what it's referring to.
Example:
Yes, as sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth, I must report they were
As cannons overcharged with double cracks,
So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe.
"Translated" to:> The new challenge scared them about as much as sparrows frighten eagles, or rabbits frighten a lion. To tell you the truth, they fought the new enemy with twice as much force as before; they were like cannons loaded with double ammunition.
Indeed, the irony today is that the Russians, the French and other people in foreign countries possess Shakespeare to a much greater extent than we do, for the simple reason that unlike us, they get to enjoy Shakespeare in the language they speak. Shakespeare is translated into rich, poetic varieties of these languages, to be sure, but since it is the rich, poetic modern varieties of the languages, the typical spectator in Paris, Moscow or Berlin can attend a production of Hamlet and enjoy a play rather than an exercise. In Japan, new editions of Shakespeare in Japanese are regularly best-sellers—utterly unimaginable here, since, like the Japanese, we prefer to experience literature in the language we speak, and a new edition of original Shakespeare no longer fits this definition. In an illuminating twist on this, one friend of mine—and a very cultured, literate one at that—has told me that the first time they truly understood more than the gist of what was going on in a Shakespeare play was when they saw one in French!
We actually get to live intimately with his works even if we can barely understand the originals.
Granted, not all went as far as the Germans and Klingons, but thinking that only the English people have a long lived history with Shakespeare is false.
I looked at what Wikipedia had about Shakespeare's influence in non-English countries and was surprised that this is hardly mentioned.
Is this really an obscure fact that for example in the 19th century Shakespeare was widely more popular in Germany than in Britain or that Goethe and Voltaire were avid admirers of Shakespeare?
As I was reading I kept waiting for the big "..BUT.." that would talk about how Shakespeare wasn't a genius. It wasn't until I got to the section on garden path sentences that the purpose of the title clicked. The author of the article was employing one of the very "tricks" he talks about in the article!
The headline is currently "What Shakespeare can teach about language and the limits of the human mind."
So no, there is not enough context for "an educated reader" to figure it out.
So rather than inform the reader and allow them to judge whether the article is interesting, you have created a situation where people who are repulsed by linkbait (I hope I'm not alone in this) are required to do more work to find out of the article is worth checking out, which is pretty much the opposite of what a headline ought to do.
There's likely some objective measure of the balance between people who click on the linkbait and learn something interesting about Shakespeare vs people who are repulsed and fail to do so, and it may well be that the former outweigh the latter, but I figured I'd make sure the latter's view is mentioned here.
It's not obvious to me. The title is a play on words; to the extent that it misleads, it does so for effect. And not all cleverness is tantamount to linkbait. (For what it's worth, I immediately understood the title to be a tongue-in-cheek reference to Shakespeare's well-known love of linguistic innovation.)
:-D