Hear Tom Leonard
reading 'The 6 O'Clock News'
(.wav
file) (Real Player
format)
The following few excerpts are
basically provided for the
thousands of English school
students presently cursed with
having to come up with exam answers
if they choose this poem in their
GCSE. What follows is not meant to
"explain" the poem but simply to
provide some context from some of
Tom Leonard's other writings about
the political nature of language in
Britain. The poem itself was
published in 1976.
Other prose and poetry connecting
with the below can be found in Intimate
Voices and Reports from the
Present.
- The Proof of the Mince Pie
- Opening to essay The Locust Tree in Flower, and why it had difficulty flowering in Britain
- A Short History of the British Judiciary
- A Short History of the British Army
1973 |
from The Proof of the Mince Pie , an essay in response to being asked to write an essay about "Culture". |
Here's a university past-paper
question on English Literature-it's
one taken literally at random from
some I've been looking at recently:
"'Their imagery is rarely
decorative, it is used to intensify
their meaning. And it is through
their imagery that we can
distinguish their very different
concepts of the relationship of man
to God." Discuss with reference to
two or more of the metaphysical
poets." Well, discuss, but not in a
Glasgow accent: simulate the
middle-class modulations and
bon-mots of the question to
"discuss", in an exam hall with
your brain packed with "key quotes"
on your way to
�2,000 a year,
the different ideas some men had on
"the relationship of man to God".
Is nothing sacred? No, nothing is
as far as the university is
concerned; and the university is at
the heart of the perpetuation of
the "culture" myth. The university
(and here I speak specifically
about the arts faculties) is a
reification of the notion that
culture is synonymous with
property. And the essentially
acquisitive attitude to culture,
"education", and "a good accent" is
simply an aspect of the
competitive, status-conscious class
structure of the society as a
whole.
What do a lot of people think of when one mentions the word "poetry" to them? More than once I've been told it's "Keats, and that"-sometimes I got Shelley, Milton and Shakespeare thrown in. As I heard one teacher put it, she always felt proud that she spoke the same language as "the byootiful lengwidge of Milton". And how often do you hear those letters on "Any Answers" etc. on the radio complaining about the corruption of "our beautiful English language"? The "beauty" of a lot of English poetry (particularly the Romantics) for many, is that the softness of its vowel-enunciation reinforces their class-status in society as the possessors of a desirable mode of speaking. And of course Keats's "Beauty is truth, truth beauty" goes down a bomb with the "Any Answers" brigade; where beauty in language is recognised as the property of a particular class, then naturally truth is assumed to be the property of that class also. So a person who doesn't "speak right" is therefore categorised as an ignoramus; it's not simply that he doesn't know how to speak right, but that this "inability" shows that he has no claim to knowledge of truth. That supposed insult "the language of the gutter" puts forward a revealing metaphor for society. The working-class rubbish, with all its bad pronunciation and dreadful swear words, is only really fit for draining away out of sight; the really great artist though, will recycle even this, to provide some "comic relief" to offset the noble emotions up top
1976: |
Opening to essay
The Locust Tree
in Flower, and why
it had difficulty
flowering in
Britain . (an essay on the American poet William Carlos Williams) |
What I like about Williams is
his voice. What I like about
Williams is his presentation of
voice as a fact, as a fact in
itself and as a factor in his
relationship with the world as he
heard it, listened to it, spoke it.
That language is not simply a means
of snooping round everything that
is not itself - that's what I get
from Williams.
The British are very sensitive
about voice. Not sensitive the way
Williams was sensitive, but in a
very different way. And the answer
lies as usual, not in the soil, but
in the bankbook. There are
basically two ways of speaking in
Britain: one which lets the
listener know that one paid for
one's education, the other which
lets the listener know that one
didn't. Within these two categories
there are wide variations, the line
between the two is not always
clear, and there are always loads
of exceptions to any rule. But one
can say of the two categories, the
latter - the "free" education one -
has much the wider variety. It is
this very variety of regional
working-class accents which the
"bought" education has promised to
keep its pupils free from, and to
provide them instead with a mode of
pronunciation which ironically
enough is called "Received". The
"Received Pronunciation" of
Edinburgh will differ from that of
Oxford (in its retention or elision
of the "r" in a word for example)
but the message of the medium is
basically the same: this
pronunciation is not received at
all, but mummy and daddy paid for
it: this pronunciation is important
not so much for what it is, but for
what it isn't.
All modes of speech are valid -
upper-class, middle-class,
working-class, from whatever
region: linguistic chauvinism is a
drag, pre-judging people just
because they speak "rough" or with
the accent of another region, or
equally, pre-judging people just
because the speak "posh". But to
have created, or at least to have
preserved, a particular mode of
pronunciation on a strictly
economic base, cannot but have very
deep repercussions in a society,
and in the literature of a society
- and there's no use in anyone
trying to minimise the importance
of this fact, because it's got to
be seen for what it is, and what
it's done.
When you have in a society on the
one hand a standardised literary
grammar (standardised spelling and
standardised syntax) and on the
other hand a standardised mode of
pronunciation, the notion tends to
get embedded in the consciousness
of that society, that one is part
of the essence of the other.
Prescriptive grammar, in other
words, becomes the sound made flesh
of prescriptive pronunciation. The
tawdry little syllogism goes
something like this:-
1. In speaking of reality, there
is a standard correct mode of
pronunciation.
2. In writing of reality, there is
a standard correct mode of
pronunciation.
therefore,
3. In reality, correct spelling
and correct syntax are synonymous
with correct pronunciation.
Putting it another way, if a piece
of writing can't be read aloud in a
"correct" Received Pronunciation
voice, then there must be something
wrong with it. It's not valid. And
this might not merely apply to the
grammar of the writing, but the
semantic content as well: since the
standard pronunciation, having to
be bought, is the property of the
propertied classes,then only such
content as these classes do not
find disagreeable, can be
"correct". Enter the inevitable
assertion that the language of
these economically superior classes
is aesthetically superior - then in
the interests of "Beauty" and
"Truth", the regional and the
working class languages,whatever
else they're capable of, certainly
aren't capable, the shoddy little
things, of great Art.
Now this was bound to stick first,
on any large scale, in the throat
of the American voice; after all
America,like Britain, is a
property-based hierarchical
society. Folks pay for their own
education, folks stand on their own
two feet. Why then should an
American follow grammatical rules
of prose or poetry which in effect
simulated a voicehe not only didn't
have, but didn't want? By the early
years of this century it was
America, not Britain, that was the
great economic industrial
powerinthe English-speaking world.
The times were ripe, as they say,
for a fundamental change in the
nature of written English. It's
important I believe to see Williams
against this background of a shift
in linguistic-political power; it's
one important aspect, that is,
amongst several. The following is
how Williams himself, in his
autobiography, saw the fundamental
change that was taking place:-
That was the secret meaning inside
the term "transition"during the
years when the painters following
Cezanne began to talk of sheer
paint: a picture a matter of
pigments upon a piece of cloth
stretched on a frame.
... It is the making of that step,
to comeover into the tactile
qualities, the wordsthemselves
beyond the mere thought expressed
that distinguishes the modern, or
distinguished the modern of the
time from the period before the
turn of the century.
(William Carlos Williams:
Autobiography New Directions 1967,
p. 380)
Granted that repeatedly in
hiswriting,andinhis disagreement
with Eliot, Williams insists on the
necessity of recognising the
non-English nature of the American
idiom. But the quoteabove from
Williams's autobiography
illustrates that Williams was not
interested in simply replacing one
linguistic-political tool (or
bludgeon) with another. His
inclination to see and treat
language as an object in itself
might havebeenmotivated
bythethought that this was a
necessary initial process prior to
the consolidation of a specifically
American poetic mode - but in
treating themediumofpoetry,
language, as an object in itself,
he was simply keeping abreast of
developments in the other arts of
his time.
1985: |
A Short History of the British Judiciary (fromSituations Theoretical and Contemporary, a sequence) |
And their judges spoke with one
dialect
but the condemned spoke with many
voices.
And the prisons were full of many
voices,
but never the dialect of the
judges.
| And the judges said: | |
| "No-one is above the Law." |
1991: |
A Short History of the British Army (from Leonard's Shorter Catechism, a Q&A about the bombing of Iraq and Kuwait) |
Q . What is the
percentage of people in command of
the British Army who have
working-class accents?
A . I'm sorry, he would
have been pleased to speak to you,
but he is in bed with
laryngitis.
Q . What is the
percentage of British troops in the
front line who have public school
accents?
A . I'm sorry, he would
have been pleased to speak to you,
but he is in bed with
laryngitis.