Sunday, April 23, 2017

The Language of Waves

“Language provides the motion of the novel; words create connections that carry us in and out of the minds of each character, pushing the text from childhood to death,” Allison Hild points out in the introduction (69) to her article “Community/Communication in Woolf’s The Waves: The Language of Motion.” Hild argues that the characters do not communicate in dialogue or inner monologue, but in “voices,” and she goes on to examine the “voices” of the six characters Woolf has so cleverly bought to life for her readers.
Hild wisely begins her argument with a refutation of critic Eric Warner’s claim that “the characters all share one voice” (70). She then quotes Marcus Miko and his idea that the voices of the characters are not actually distinct personalities, but rather a stream of “vocal patterns amidst the overlap of voices” (70). Hild refutes this more nuanced argument as well, suggesting that as the characters grow older, they also have more distinctive personalities. She claims that eventually the reader will not need the speech tags to identify the voice of each character, and that readers have already associated Louis with Australia, Bernard with stories, Susan with nature, and Jinny with beauty (70). She then smartly refutes Miko’s other claim that Woolf is “repetitive” with her use of language between the six characters, asserting that what he deems repetitive is merely “echoed” and “transformed” language; “harmonies” rather than “unities” (70). After her refutation, Hild expands her argument that the characters do have their own voices. She claims that the “more compelling process of individuation” is Woolf’s “stylistic and technical weaving together of her characters (71). The exchanges and transitions between the voices of the characters are present, yet subtle and that the “replication of phrases” is what gives the narrative its wave-like “flow” (72).
Hild then addresses on the unavoidable concept of self and community and the role language plays in the relationship between the two. She references Jacques Lacan, utilizing his phrases “speaking subject” and “subject as spoken” to explain Lacan’s idea that not only is individual identity or personality only possible through identification or division within a community, but that community is only possible through the sense of individuality (72). However, Hild notes this idea to be the way Woolf’s language functions throughout The Waves, and not necessarily the only interpretive lens through which to read the novel.
Elaborating the linguistic roots of the individual and the community, Hild mentions the “vice” (Woolf 103) that manages to hold the group of friends together for fleeting moments during their reunion dinner. She discusses the “disjunction that is language” and how it “creeps in,” when friends gather in groups, and how it “breaks open any circle of friends.” Hild then comments on the characters’ fragile connection with one another, as though their meaning as individuals is circumscribed in their friendships, and they are null without reflecting one another (73). 
She also discusses Percival’s narrative function, and how his “silence” may further demonstrate the inner community of the six focal characters. As Hild adeptly notes, when Percival dies, each character struggles with “silence,” or lack of language and communication. This disconnection from language, or “fall” into “silence” is the subtle yet crucial link between the role of the outsider (in this instance, Percival) and the decreased flow of language when that outsider is no longer present, Hild claims. She closes by discussing the intense irony of Bernard’s closing words (77).
I have to agree with most of what Hild argues throughout this article. One of the reasons I enjoy reading Woolf is because of the way she explores the relationship between solitude, individuality, “privacy of the soul,” and community, friends, and hospitality. I think we are taught, at least in western culture, that these two distinctions are simple and clear, or at least they should be. However, we know they are not so simple. Woolf’s style embraces the complexity of these conflicting human desires, and Hild’s criticism appropriately tackles Woolf’s complicated and experimental novel. I believe the description of the six characters as “voices,” is beyond accurate. They are most definitely not speaking in a traditional type of dialogue, yet there is a connection between them–and the “voices” are most definitely not soliloquies. “Di” and “solo” hint that these two descriptors of Woolf’s literary genius are two extreme versions of language of the inner self and language of the outer world. Instead of fulfilling these models of language, Woolf has worked so cleverly to convey the confusing nature of the middle ground between these two opposing versions of language that is best exemplified by water, by waves.  
I also agree with Hild’s claim that the characters are “harmonies” rather than “unities.” She is wise for not lumping them together as one collective “voice,” as some critics have done. She is also wise for not negating the importance—the necessity—of their experience as a community of friends. I found her claims accurate and well done. All of the characters have been the “speaking subject” and the “subject as spoken” (72) throughout the novel, so much so that I can now attribute particular phrases and preferences that identify each character. I notice, as the characters grow older, that this process becomes easier, yet they still echo one another with subtle responses through repetition and rhythm.
I find the “disjunction” or divisive nature of language and how it “breaks” the “circle of friends” extraordinarily accurate in describing the dynamic of not just these six fictional friends, but human friendship in general. The interpretation of Percival as an “outsider,” whose death “silences” the six “insiders” supports Hild’s argument of the interdependency of one’s inner world and outer world (75). The six friends must struggle between both modes of human existence in order for either mode to be continuously upheld. This struggle is tragic yet hopeful, and infinitely complicated, as long as there is language to complicate it.
Hild, Allison. “Community/Communication in Woolf’s "The Waves”: The Language of Motion.“ The Journal of Narrative Technique 24.1 (1994): 69-79. JSTOR. Web. 10 Feb. 2015.

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