My Favorite Verb

Somewhere around age 10 I was still eating cereal on Saturday mornings and watching cartoons, in between which were broadcast the Schoolhouse Rock series of animations to teach children the basic points of American government, math, and language (to keep our brains from being too-far-rotted by Looney Tunes, Tom and Jerry, and Magilla Gorilla, I suppose).  Many of my own generation and even my daughter's can probably recall the lyrics to its Conjunction Junction or I Am a Bill, on Capitol Hill; in fact, singing one of those in front of my students will typically elicit a chuckle and a remnant of nostalgic recognition.  The more potent of the segments, for me, was the one on verbs: 

I get my thing in action (Verb!)
To be, to sing, to feel, to live (Verb!)
(That's what's happenin')

I put my heart in action (Verb!)
To run, to go, to get, to give (Verb!)
(You're what's happenin')*

And so it goes, showing a small boy with dark skin, fluffy hair, and a vivid imagination dreaming his way through a superhero movie and navigating his way through city streets and sentences with joy until finally making his way home and leaping into his mother's arms: "to love!"

The verb gives not only action but life to a sentence.  If I am partial to any part of speech, it is the verb, with its power and vitality (yes, geeky English types such as myself might anthropomorphize words - do not judge!).  And if I am partial to any particular verb, it is "to know."

What, you may ask, is so special about it?  First, and most obviously, I like the meaning: to perceive, understand, comprehend; to be aware of; to be acquainted with; to have knowledge of.  Who likes being in the dark, feeling left out?  Second, it really can't be on its own -- it needs an object (I know you; I know the answer; I know what you mean).  It's good for words to make the team effort (some verbs can be so arrogant and stand-offish - I'm looking at you, run).  It also is an old word, entering Old English as cnawen about a millennium ago.

It is an example of language's tendency to adapt and evolve, as the "k" was not originally silent.  I love the way the sounds of "k" followed by "n" in older forms of English are rough and roll around in my mouth.  

In Arabic, a word that means know is aerf (أعرف).  It also includes a sound represented by the letter "ayn" or ع. This is a letter that doesn't exist in the English alphabet, so, in order for me to pronounce it, I need to form my mouth into a shape to which it is unaccustomed and produce a sound that is unfamiliar to my ears.  There's something to be said for the challenge of that.
And that brings me to my main point: I think the words that appeal to us reflect our personality.  Knowledge, the acquisition of information, the synthesis of new ideas -- these are all critical to me and to my life's work.  I want to know more than I have time to learn in this short life.  If you want to know me, you need to know that "to know" carries great weight with me.  

And that's what's happenin'.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Whole Basket

I have been reading a book— Braiding Sweetgrass —loaned to me by a dear friend who said that she thought I would appreciate it. She was right. It contains some of the most beautiful and poetic non-fiction writing I have read in a long time. Each chapter is like a lovely gift to unwrap. In a recent chapter, I was struck by the description of weaving a basket because it reminded me of work that I have been involved with for the past three years with a non-profit organization in Morocco. As I read about the process and the lessons learned from the process of basket weaving, I thought of the Moroccan farmers, the land, the planting of fruit trees, and the sustainable economic development of communities. The author describes the challenges of starting a basket: “The first two rows of the basket are the hardest. On the first go-round, the splint seems to have a will of its own and wants to wander from the over-under rhythm around the circle. It resists the pattern and looks all loose a
Read more

Bullfight

Below the hotel window are the sounds of families going to watch the Semana Santa processions. Lured by children's laughter and women's voices, footsteps on cobblestones echoing up from Calle del Infante, we venture out on our first evening in Madrid and follow the crowd to Plaza Mayor. We watch the costaleros bearing aloft their saints, candles, flowers, and carved Cristos on their slow pilgrimage across the old town. Men in green nazareno robes of penitence, eerily pointed hoods and covered faces in mourning for their sins of the last year, pass by in all solemnity. Spain is revealing herself to us with each new street corner we turn. Dining  al fresco  on the edge of the plaza brings the popular delights of bocadillos de calamares , music, and general goodwill as we take in the sights and sounds of this golden hour. With our remembered high school Spanish and their bits of English, somehow we get by and understand one another. After dinner, we stroll along the main boulev
Read more

Comfort

My landlord is French. I do not speak French, and he has very little English or even Arabic, but we somehow get by. I did not take French in school. Yet, I recently had a meal at the neighborhood seafood place, El Snack Bahriya, in which I ordered in French and conversed in French with the waiter. I don't understand how that is possible, but there is no denying that it happened. I am in a one-bedroom apartment with a lovely sitting area and small kitchen on Avenue Hassan II in Marrakech. I can sit on the terrace if I like and watch the little yellow taxis, the tiny European cars, the Mercedes SUVs, the motorbikes, and the bicyclists go by, as well as the occasional horse-drawn carriage with tourists out for a ride. I am not a tourist. There is Farouk café next door and Clay Oven, an Indian restaurant, across the street, teasing me with its enticing scents and higher prices, but I can still get a full dinner there for under $20. A small pizza at the café, though, is only $2.50, and
Read more