Peter Taaffe: The Need for Words

(Militant International Review, No. 53, September-October 1993)

Peter Taaffe reviews two books providing a fascinating insight into the voice, its relationship to personality and ultimately of society

the dhé (emphatic) .demons. adj. called the definite article, used to denote a particular person or thing

need néd, n. want of something which one cannot do without; necessity.

for foér, prep. in the place of ;in favour of;in account of.

words wûrd,n. a unit of spoken language; a written sign representing such an utterance; (in pl.) language.

[The Right to Speak, 1992, ₤7.99 and The Need for Words, 1993. ₤9,99, by Patsy Rodenburg. Published by Methuen. Available from World Socialist Books, 3.13 Hepscott Road, London E9 5HB]

Patsy Rodenburg is head of the Voice Department at London’s Royal National Theatre and the Guildhall School of Music and Drama. She is an eminent voice teacher consulted by actors like Anthony Sher and Ian McKellen as well as politicians and others who wish to improve their voice communication.

She has written two excellent books, The Right to Speak, Working with the Voice, published in 1992, followed this year by The Need for Words, Voice and the Text. Members of Militant Labour who frequently use their voice in the cause of socialism will find some fascinating insights in their pages. Both are worth reading to acquire a deeper knowledge of correct breathing techniques, which is the effective foundation and support system for the voice, of how words are formed, the physicality of the voice, etc.

But their value goes beyond just a script for voice improvement. In a thorough examination of the voice, its relationship to the personality and ultimately of society, it is possible for the conscientious reader to acquire a greater vocal self-awareness. The author comments: “It is almost as if they (people inhibited or finding difficulty in speaking) have been forcibly gagged even though the muffle is an invisible one. The gag is usually one of an assortment of habits that undermine the potential of anyone’s voice and speech. All these habits contribute to an acute fear that so many of us have in common: the fear of speaking out in public or even in private.

“A recent opinion poll taken in America, asking people what single thing frightens them most, put speaking in public at the top of the list of fears, above loneliness, financial worry… even death!”

The author contends that there is no such thing as a ‘bad voice’ and perhaps more controversially that everyone has the potential to ‘sing’. Patsy Rodenburg correctly abhors the lack of authenticity, the snobbishness, even ‘vocal imperialism’ of the possessing classes when it comes to the use of the voice. She comments: “In effect, I think our voice becomes a sort of lie detector that instantly traps a speaker whenever he or she is being unauthentic”. And to the flat, monotonous, uninteresting speaker, she proffers very good advice: “If it matters to you, it matters to others”.

* * *

Some of the most interesting aspects of The Right to Speak are those that point out the class character of speech and the almost innate right which the rich and powerful arrogate to themselves to speak and to be heard.

The author has listened to the middle and upper-class accents of those who regularly visit the Barbican Centre for performances of the Royal Shakespeare Company. She comments: “You hear all around you the same upper-class voices boring into your head. They sound demanding, belittling and frankly self-important. But listen carefully. They are actually saying very little, nor are they saying it very well. Only the sound is socially acceptable. Sit in any Mayfair restaurant or have tea in one of the grander London hotels and you can hear the same kind of voices zapping around the space as if all of us ought to be part of the conversation. To me all these ‘cultivated’ voices are saying one thing: ‘The right to speak is mine and mine alone’.”

She points out that quick assumptions about people are sometimes based entirely on how their voice sounds and not on what sense is being made by the speaker. Commenting on the political effect of different voice sounds, she writes about the ‘deferential’ voter: “I have found myself in many political discussions with people who vote for the Conservative Party even though that group’s policies do not serve their needs. I have heard convictions expressed that simply boil down to: ‘Well the Labour or Liberal candidate ‘doesn’t sound as though he could govern. The Conservative fellow sounds more impressive’.”

The author rails against attempts to suppress or hide the ‘natural voice’ and the rich regional accents which Britain still possesses. She has, like this reviewer, an abiding love and (unlike the reviewer) deep knowledge of Shakespeare. But she also points to the snobbish, predominantly upper-class attitude which recoils in horror at ‘regional accents’ sometimes resorted to by actors when performing the plays of the great bard. Audiences at performances of The War of the Roses were indignant when the Earl of Northumberland, for instance, spoke in a Northumberland accent!

If there is one theme in both books, it is the determination of the author to make us conscious of accumulated habits arising from class, sexual and racial oppression which block the full release of vocal potential. She points out that “many of us have been taught not to feel easy about expressing words and sounds openly. Our society likes to control the volume and keep us vocal hostages; it doesn’t want to hear the thoughts and opinions of certain groups like children, women and minorities”. The consequence of all this is that “we first learn to shut down and then begin to shut up”.

Quick assumptions about people are sometimes based entirely on how their voice sounds.

The voice is also used to manipulate and is part of any power relationship. This doesn’t have to take the form of shouting. There is the ‘devoicer’ or whisperer, someone who speaks so low and ‘confidentially that we must literally lean in to hear them. Falling into this category are so-called ‘guru’-like figures or “anyone who has created an aura of power and control by simply speaking softly”. She points out that “girls are consistently told to speak quietly and nicely, boys to be assertive and fluent”, and yet “statistically, more men stutter than women (four out of every five stutterers are males)”. At the same time, women find it more difficult to speak about ‘important issues’. This is becoming less the case today because of the increased confidence and combativity of women.

Naturally, because the author is a woman, there are some illuminating passages on the differences between men and women reflected in voices. Women will question more, listen more attentively, make supportive, caring noises, and use a greater variety of inflexion: in other words, “women tend to be supportive with their voices and men tend to dominate”.

It is possible to ‘see through the eyes of women’ just how the vocal habits of men, quite unconsciously, but nevertheless wrongly, can inhibit and diminish women and their voices. Patsy Rodenburg stresses: “Please don’t interpret my comments as being those of a radical feminist. Do realise, though, that the women’s movement has given back to many females the rights to their own voices by getting them to drop artificial vocal guises and actually drop their voices back to their natural middle range”. She points out that “many male speakers brace and hold themselves across the shoulders, pulling them back, lifting their upper chests the way a pigeon does in the puffed-up power of a mating dance”. At the same time, however, as the ‘caring, sharing male’ allegedly increases in numbers, speech teachers “have noticed that devoicing is on the rise amongst men, presumably as a counteraction to bluff assertiveness”. The role reversal of men and women, with some men more ‘caring’ and women becoming much more assertive, has produced, according to Patsy Rodenburg, a peculiar reaction: “Nowadays, of all things, I have female friends who complain that their men are crying too much and being overly attentive vocally”!

* * *

A Large part of The Right to Speak deals with the technical question of voice work, exercising the voice. Also stressed are the dangers to the voice, particularly from loud music at parties and in pubs, and the baleful effects of smoking and alcohol on the voice. Set out are a series of exercises which if followed can considerably improve the vocal power of the consistent student.

Much of the material is for the specialised actor or speaker, but will prove to be enormously useful to the average individual determined to improve their vocal ability. How many people, for example, are aware that the physical posture that we adopt has a profound effect on the sound that comes out of our mouth? Above all, this book, linked to The Need for Words, shows the way urban dwellers have increasingly cut themselves off from an oral tradition that “transmits knowledge and experience from breath to breath rather than just from mind to mind”.

The Need for Words continues many of the themes of The Right to Speak but also explores words, their use today, and how this links to an oral tradition which Patsy Rodenburg believes is in danger of dying out in modern society. She points out: “A cry of joy or an uninhibited sob can jolt us to the core, but words that express either of these passions in complex detail move us even more strongly, because they connect emotion with an intention. Pure sounds do have an integrity all of their own. But words can make sense of raw passions. ‘Language most shows a man: speak that I may see thee’, wrote Ben Johnson”.

Speaking is of course a natural act that we take for granted. But the ability to use words affectively is likened by the author to somebody playing a piano. We all can strike the keys, but it takes practice, choice, and above all desire, in order to learn to play the piano. Words should be connected with a clear process of thought and “it should signal variety and a facility with words”.

Patsy Rodenburg makes conscious in a quite gripping fashion what anybody who has an interest in language instinctively feels. In so doing, she can enormously assist even quite experienced speakers, as well as the inexperienced, to think about and improve the use of words and language generally.

She quite correctly rails against modern society’s bias against words and understanding, against the ‘sound bites’, the ‘quick-fix phrases’ of advertising and the tendency of the all-pervasive media to usurp our need for words. This has “sundered our right to speak”. She states quite bluntly: “Somewhere along the line we stopped being an oral society”.

She correctly attacks ‘political language’ which is “long on proposals but vague about solutions’. However, she makes a mistake here by identifying ‘political language’ with the obfuscation and downright lies which are the stock and trade of capitalist politicians.

Honesty and an ability to tell the truth is one of the ways in which to interest and hold audiences, thereby ensuring that the oral tradition will be restored. The greatest ‘heightened moments’ are those when ordinary working people enter the scene of history, and as Patsy Rodenburg points out, suddenly find the voice to express their feelings.

Despite these limitations, the ‘words’ of the author are very instructive and informative. She points out that oracy is the ability to be fluent with words and this is being lost because “to put it quite bluntly, we have stopped talking to one another. We have ceased being an oral culture. Families sit around a lighted box called television ‘watching’ rather than ‘discussing’ events. Our stories come to us in pictures. If we don’t see it we won’t believe it. The message in words is often rigidly controlled and clipped. I suppose you could say we have a greater need for pictures than words”.

* * *

Patsy Rodenburg does not counterpose oracy to the literary tradition. Nor does she merely want to turn back the wheel of history before the advent of the mass media. But the oral tradition is in grave danger she maintains and “perhaps we need to preserve the traditions of oracy rather like we would preserve a precious rain forest. Both transfer the air we breathe into a capacity for words”.

She points out that the speaking voice today is in general much lighter and more undeveloped than ten years ago. Her denunciation of the all-pervasive TV set, moreover, has been verified recently in the warnings of educationalists and others who point out that loud music, radio and constant use of the TV can hold back the language development of babies. In modern society noise pollution is almost as harmful, as detrimental to health, as air pollution, water pollution, etc.

This reviewer also believes that Patsy Rodenburg’s case for the therapeutic effect of words, of discussion, is overwhelming and is often lost sight of.

Teachers themselves are not conscious, or at least not sufficiently so, of a problem which leads in some instances to them telling students “not to shout, but tell them by shouting at them”. Teachers who have not mastered how to speak can themselves suffer pain and “believe this is a natural occupational hazard”. The author correctly says: “In essence, the teacher-pupil relationship is really a two-way conversation … a vital part of education dies with the dying voice”. However, she does not concentrate purely on speaking and the voice, but believes that an improvement in this field will lead to good writing and good reading habits.

At the same time, she criticises the modern education system and “its distressing lack of opportunities for general and unthreatening debate”. She comes out against a threatening or intolerant approach adopted in debates, but goes a little too far in implying that debates should end in accommodation rather than anger. It is necessary to adopt an open and tolerant attitude in debates, to listen to other points of view, as a necessary means of clarifying issues and encouraging inexperienced speakers, debaters, etc. At the same time, when class issues are involved, it is precisely anger and not ‘accommodation’ which can often be, and correctly so, the outcome of debate and discussion.

Some of the most enjoyable and stimulating parts of The Need for Words is where the author deals with ‘wit and word play’, irony and satire. For words and speech to be properly appreciated, it should not be filtered, at least not all of the time, through TV or films, “but to hear and judge a message directly, in the flesh, may be something human beings need”. Without question, a live speech or a live piece of music, or a live performance such as a play, has more of an effect, greater immediacy, than when it is refracted through television or even film.

The sections dealing with public speech, words and the role of women and modern society, the effect of national boundaries, the cultural and physical barriers to the development of words and speech are worthy of study.

The overwhelming effect on the reader of these books will be to deepen knowledge of the voice, of words, of a capacity to use speech and words. The exercises which Patsy Rodenburg sets out for the voice, if assiduously followed, can undoubtedly lead to an increased performance by most speakers. There is no ‘instant solution’ to be found here or anywhere, but these illuminating books can establish a platform which can benefit aspiring speakers, thereby making a contribution to maintaining and expanding the oral tradition.