According to Michel de Montaigne, “the word belongs half to the speaker, half to the listener“, which means that, to a large extent, once we express an idea or thought, it does not longer belong entirely to us, and it becomes part of the recipient of our message.
The importance of words lies not only in what we say, but also in what we keep silent about. And it often happens that we regret having said certain things that would have been better left unsaid. Hence the importance of measuring well what we say, how we say it, in what context and who is the addressee of our words.
From Beethoven’s “do not break the silence unless you can improve it“, to Xenocrates’ “I have often regretted to have spoken, but never to have kept silent“, there are many phrases that remind us that speaking may entail certain risks and that sometimes it is better not to say anything and to keep silent.
In a way, it is a question of moderation, of knowing when to speak or express our opinion and when it is better not to do so. When to speak and when to just listen. Because it is assumed that when someone speaks, there is someone who listens, although it often happens that we only hear what the other person says, but we are not really listening, attentively and actively, but only hearing.
On the other hand, it may happen that our words are reproduced by a third party, by someone who has heard us and transmits our message, or by the media, which echoes what we have said. In this case, the risk may be that what we have really said may be misrepresented, with the consequent damage to our image or reputation, if the error is maintained and not corrected.
Words, then, seem to be able to take on a life of their own, beyond our original purpose in letting them go. A life that may be longer or shorter, depending on the success they achieve in society and in history.
The classics still live on today, after many centuries, but there are ideas, books, thoughts, or manifestos that no one remembers a few hours or days after they have seen the light of day.
The messages may come from our own culture and our mother tongue, or they may come from languages we do not understand, and cultural environments far from our own. Here too there is a risk of misrepresentation because words have to be translated from one language to another, i.e., converted or mutated, or “passed from one place to another”, according to their meaning in Latin.
Traduttore, traditore sums up, in a certain way – although perhaps in a somewhat pejorative and unfair way – the risk that exists when passing words, concepts or ideas from their original language to another, so that they reach a larger public or a specific addressee who needs to understand something that has been written in a language that he or she does not master.
Words, those linguistic units that allow us to express what we want to say, are at the same time one of the most valuable treasures we have, but they can also be our ruin. Learning to master them, dose them, enhance them or hide them, is an art that requires time and patience, wisdom, and experience. It is an art that we can learn, as long as we want to be masters of what we say and not slaves to what we have said.
Words belong to us, ours and also those we hear or listen to. And beyond our decision to say them or to keep them, to listen to them or not to hear them, there is the importance of freedom. Freedom to express words and freedom to hear them.
Words are tools in our hands and hopefully we will all use them in a positive and constructive way, and in the right measure.
For a 2022 full of good, optimistic words.
Happy New Year!