Elocution
Wed., September 20, 09:26 AM
You’ve probably never heard of elocution. I wouldn’t know about it myself if it hadn’t been for a heavy, red book my father had, called The American Star Speaker. It was a dilapidated old thing, about fifty years old when I first began to look at it.
The dictionary defines elocution as “the art of public speaking, emphasizing gesture and vocal production and delivery.” Like singing or playing a musical instrument, it was taught for performing at school or at home, or at some kind of community social events. Remember, in its heyday, elocution taught people how to speak to a large room without a microphone. In later presentations, I guess, it was more satirized than appreciated.
The American Star Speaker, as I remember it, was organized into a section of teaching and a second half containing selections to be performed, such as patriotic documents and poetry. I looked at the beginning and giggled at the extreme gestures for portraying various emotions. Old silent film dramas can give you an idea of what they were like. Mostly I was interested in the poetry.
I can find the poems on the internet now, of course, but I would never know what to look for if I hadn’t had the book. I should have attempted some kind of repair before my mother decided to throw it out.
(I suppose that was a good thing in the long run; every home really needs someone willing to discard stuff. But Mother never saw the value in an old book. She threw out my baseball cards too.)
“Oh, Captain, My Captain!” “Bingen on the Rhine.” “Sail on, sail on, thou ship of state; sail on, thou union, strong and great…” And the one that got me thinking in the first place, “The Deacon's Masterpiece or The Wonderful One-Hoss Shay.” Written by Oliver Wendell Holmes, it tells the story of a wagon that was so perfectly designed and built that it never broke down. That is, it didn’t break down until it was exactly one hundred years old, when it shuddered once and dissolved into a heap of dust.
Wouldn’t it be great if everything was designed that way, including people? As I’m reminded all the time, old age doesn’t hit you all at once. In spite of my chronic complaints, I’m supremely lucky that most of me is still in working condition. I don't need any of the standard (for seniors) prescriptons that my Husband takes. The brain seems to operate well enough to find reasonable alternatives to accomplish what I need to do. Y’know, it seems ungrateful to complain. And yet…I’m going to try and do some shopping despite this bruised toe, and I will undoubtedly be muttering to myself until I get home.
Have a nice day, everybody.
