Earlier this week, while driving through the old stomping grounds of Captain John Smith (1580-1631), I enjoyed a recorded reading of his Description of New England. Though not, as far as a I know, a professional actor, the pseudonymous Australian narrator enlivened his performance by speaking the words of the famous explorer in an artificially archaic accent. To be more specific, he pronounced his words in ways that reminded me of the original language of Shakespeare (as reconstructed by linguists), the dialects of Cornwall and Somerset, and the cant of Hollywood pirates.
Done a little bit differently, the use of this synthetic way of speaking might have seemed like parody. However, the narrator spoke with such poise, and such respect for words written more than four centuries ago, that he proved able to mimic without falling into mockery. Indeed, once my ears had adjusted to the unfamiliar sounds, I found that the accent did much to transport me to the world of the famous explorer, promoter, and, if I am not too badly mistaken, teller of tall tales.
I found my viva voce version of A Description of New England on Librivox, a service that provides, without charge, audio versions of books that have passed into the public domain. As might be expected, most of the volunteers who read these books do so without the sort of embellishment I recently enjoyed. Nonetheless, I have found that, even when they employ their day-to-day voices, the amateur voice actors will sometimes provide an inadvertent enhancement.
One of the first Librivox programs I ever listened to was a reading of the magnum opus of Carl von Clausewitz (1780-1831) by a man with an unmistakably Australian accent. Before this experience, I had associated On War with the upper-class British English of his most prominent translators and the old-timey German of the original. However, after hearing the same words spoken to the music of Paul Hogan and Lucy Lawless, I heard them in a different light. In particular, the experience did much to remind me that, rather than trying to provide grist for the mill of latter-day academics, the prolific Prussian was a thoughtful man using the language of philosophy to make sense of his considerable first-hand experience of organized violence.
For Further Reading:
A German accent reading the words of Dead Karl could definitely conjure up Brooksian scenes of humor and madness.
This is marvelous! I don't like listening to books, but this could change my mind. Thanks!