Language
In akróasis we attribute a special significance language. We have seen
that the ancient Greeks, upon whom all our Western culture is built,
were fully aware of the harmonics of language and its elements: word,
syllable, letter, grammar, and then the rhythms, meters, etc.-a
knowledge that has been completely lost in this concrete sense in
modern times. Despite this, language remains a phenomenon of the
greatest significance for us: through ear and mouth, humans give and
receive immaterial things; by means of the “tone,” therefore
acoustically, we communicate all our thoughts and aspirations; in
short, it is what makes us human. Since this is not entirely
self-evident-because we could quite easily think of other means of
communication, such as sign language-and since, furthermore, language
is “at home,” so to speak, in the house of harmonics, i.e. its actual
native rights are there-the phenomenon of speech gains a much deeper
foundation through this than it could have if it were merely isolated,
standing alone. Through the portal of akróasis, language enters the
toning foundations of the world; only in front of this universal
background is its existence understandable at all. Many great modern
scholars and philosophers of language have been aware of this
background; the fact that that they did not perform specifically
harmonic “linguistic” investigations in the manner of the Classical
Greeks is irrelevant. From the wealth of examples I will give only a
few.
Language and Writing
From the viewpoint of akróasis, a special significance can also be seen
in the connection between language and writing. As will be explained
later, the specific proportions of numbers that contain the tone-ratios
make it possible to transpose the acoustic into the optic. If we
understand this possibility, which is universally immanent in all tonal
forms, then we can understand the connection of the written and spoken
word in a more fundamental, categorical way. This can explain why
peoples who are highly sensitive to the acoustics of language-such as
the Chinese-have writing of such a great artistic quality, meaning much
more to them than mere symbols for concepts. Their characters and
concepts come from a common center; the spirit entices visual images
from the writing hand, which are then acoustically made sensory in
various ways. Concept, written character, and word are brought to a
marvelous synthesis by means of the sense of touch of the writing hand,
where they stand unique in human history. Somehow, this synthesis
naturally applies to every fixing of language, whereby the optic and
the acoustic often appear with a direct external connection, even
applicable to individual letters: think of the vowel “o,” which in
European languages has exactly the form that our mouth uses for its
realization.
On Chinese writing, Lin Tsiu-sen, in China und Japan,
writes: “The usage of Chinese writing means more than that of just any
writing, because the Chinese characters were originally pictures, like
hieroglyphs ... soon a development began in them that allowed Chinese
writing to become what it is now: the basic images were condensed to
214 roots or radicals, and from them the individual signs were composed, in the full sense of this word. Just as for the ear, a mood emerges in the listener through a musical phrase, so an idea emerges in the reader through the radical phrase.
Unlike the melody, which is made the same for all time by the composer,
the Chinese character presents an ever richer and richer idea.”
Word and Language
To summarize the examples history offers us of the akróasis of words
and language, we can say: it is no coincidence that even in ancient
times, religious cults used not only words, but also acoustically
augmented speech, emphatic pronunciation, and hymns, and that the
historical awakening of humanity is concentrated in the ballads and
songs of the heroic ages. Rigveda
means a collection of songs; the Homeric epics were originally recited,
sung; and even in the Middle Ages the Nordic bards sang ballads of love
and heroism. It is no coincidence that the Greeks used logos
as a common term for word, speech, responsibility, and consciousness,
nor that the term “person,” “personal,” as an expression for the human
individual, is derived originally from the Latin personare = to “sound through,” call, proclaim. Nor is it a coincidence that in the German language, Vernunft [consciousness] comes from vernehmen [to hear], Verantwortung [responsibility] from verantworten [to answer], Gehören [to belong] from ge-hören [hören = hear], and Beruf, Berufung [profession] from be-rufen [rufen
= to call]. At the root of all these concepts is the acoustic, the
auditory in its broadest and deepest sense. We have become deaf to the
spiritual background of these symbols, which speak such a clear
language, precisely because the familiarity of the daily use of these
concepts has made us unaware of the unfamiliarity of their actual
meaning.
As a conclusion to this section, we will let akróasis speak to us from
a few more examples of modern poetry. We must eschew musical examples,
since the great names of music will be familiar to every reader, and a
proper representation of them, at least for most people, is only
possible through hearing.
Dante
The strict architectonics of the Divine Comedy
shows Dante's knowledge of mysterious Pythagorean wisdom. “He holds
tightly to numbers, so as not to fall into the divine darkness that
hastens in upon him.” A verse of Purgatorio, 30, 92 [Longfellow translation] reads:
“Before the song of those who sing for ever
After the music of the eternal spheres.”
Shakespeare
Shakespeare's Lorenzo repeats this tone in The Merchant of Venice [Act V, Scene I, 58]:
“Look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.”
Goethe
This section would not be complete were we not to consider the great
monument that Goethe, the seer and observer, has built to akróasis. The
prologue in heaven to Faust begins with the words of Raphael [George Madison Priest translation]:
“The sun intones, in ancient tourney
With brother-spheres, a rival song,
Fulfilling its predestined journey,
With march of thunder moves along.
Its aspect gives the angels power,
Though none can ever solve its ways;
The lofty works beyond us tower,
Sublime as on the first of days.”
And at the beginning of Act 1 of Faust II, “A tremendous tumult announces the approach of the sun”:
Ariel: “Hark! The storm of hours is nearing!
Sounding loud to spirit-hearing,
Is the new-born day appearing.
Rocky portals grate and shatter,
Phoebus' wheels roll forth and clatter.
What a tumult Light brings near!
Trumpets, trombones are resounding,
Eyes are blinking, ears astounding;
The unheard ye shall not hear.”
Admittedly, this is only one problem of interest to future harmonic scholars of language, and probably not the most important.