The Brain’s Language Centers—Created by God

In contemplating how language arose, evolutionists frequently link the development of the brain to the appearance of languages. But when one considers that more than 6,000 languages exist, it is incomprehensible to suggest that the invention of language could be viewed as some sort of simple, clear-cut addition to human physiology made possible by an enlarged brain unique to Homo sapiens. Terrance Deacon commented on the intricacy of evolving a language when he wrote:

‘For a language feature to have such an impact on brain evolution that all members of the species come to share it, it must remain invariable across even the most drastic language change possible ’ [emphasis in original).^[20]

The complexity underlying speech first revealed itself in patients who were suffering various communication problems. Researchers began noticing analogous responses among patients with similar injuries. The ancient Greeks noticed that brain damage could cause the loss of the ability to speak (a condition known as aphasia). Centuries later, in 1836, Marc Dax described a group of patients that could not speak normally. Dax reported that all of these patients experienced damage to the left hemisphere of their brain. In 1861, Paul Broca described a patient who could utter only a single word—‘tan’. When this patient died, Broca examined his brain and observed significant damage to the left frontal cortex, which has since become known anatomically as ‘Broca’s area’ (see Figure 2). While patients with damage to Broca’s area can understand language, they generally are unable to produce speech because words are not formed properly, thus slurring their speech.

In 1876, Carl Wernicke discovered that language problems also could result from damage to another section of the brain. This area, later termed ‘Wernicke’s area’, is located in the posterior part of the temporal lobe (see Figure 2). Damage to Wernicke’s area results in a loss of the ability to understand language. Thus, patients can continue to speak, but the words are put together in such a way that they make no sense. Interestingly, in most people (approximately 97%) both Broca’s area and Wernicke’s area are found only in the left hemisphere, which explains the language deficits observed in patients with brain damage to the left side of the brain. Evolutionists freely acknowledge that:

‘The relationship between brain size and language is unclear. Possibly, increased social interaction combined with tactical deception gave the brain an initial impetus. Better nourishment due to meat-eating may also have played a part. Then brain size and language possibly increased together.’^[21]

But, the human brain is not simply larger. The connections are vastly different as well. As Deacon admitted: ‘Looking more closely, we will discover that a radical re-engineering of the whole brain has taken place, and on a scale that is unprecedented’.^[22] In order to speak a word that has been read, information is obtained from the eyes and travels to the visual cortex. From the primary visual cortex, information is transmitted to the posterior speech area (which includes Wernicke’s area). From there, information travels to Broca’s area, and then to the primary motor cortex to provide the necessary muscle contractions to produce the sound. To speak a word that has been heard, we must invoke the primary auditory cortex, not the visual cortex. Deacon commented on this complex neuronal network— which does not occur in animals —when he wrote:

‘Many a treatise on grammatical theory has failed to provide an adequate accounting of the implicit knowledge that even a four-year-old appears to possess about her newly acquired language.’^[23]

Complexity of Language—Uniquely Human

No known language in the whole of human history can be considered ‘primitive’ in any sense of the word. In her book, What is Linguistics? Suzette Elgin wrote:

‘the most ancient languages for which we have written texts—Sanskrit for example—are often far more intricate and complicated in their grammatical forms than many other contemporary languages.’^[40]

The late Lewis Thomas, a distinguished physician, scientist, and longtime director and chancellor of the Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan, acknowledged: ‘...Language is so incomprehensible a problem that the language we use for discussing the matter is itself becoming incomprehensible’.^[41] It appears that, from the beginning, human communication was designed with a tremendous amount of complexity and forethought, and has allowed us to communicate not only with one another, but also with the Designer of language.

In a paper titled ‘Evolution of Universal Grammar’ that appeared in the January 2001 issue of Science, M.A. Nowak and his colleagues attempted to discount the gulf that separates human and animals.^[42] This paper, which was a continuation of a 1999 paper titled ‘The Evolution of Language’,^[43] used mathematical calculations in an effort to predict the evolution of grammar and the rules surrounding it. While Nowak and his team inferred that the evolution of universal grammar can occur via natural selection, they freely admitted that ‘the question concerning why only humans evolved language is hard to answer’ [emphasis added].^[44] Hard to answer indeed! The mathematical models presented in these papers do not tell us anything about the origination of the multitude of languages used in the world today. If man truly did evolve from an ape-like ancestor, how did the phonologic [the branch of linguistics that deals with the sounds of speech and their production] component of our languages become so diverse and variegated? Nowak’s paper also did not clarify the origination of written languages, or describe how the language process was initiated in the first humans, considering we know today that parents teach languages to their offspring.

Also, consider that when language first appears on the scene, it already is fully developed and very complex. The late Harvard paleontologist George Gaylord Simpson described it this way:

‘Even the peoples with least complex cultures have highly sophisticated languages, with complex grammar and large vocabularies, capable of naming and discussing anything that occurs in the sphere occupied by their speakers. The oldest language that can be reconstructed is already modern, sophisticated, complete from an evolutionary point of view.’^[45]

Chomsky summed it up well when he stated:

‘Human language appears to be a unique phenomenon, without significant analogue in the animal world... There is no reason to suppose that the ‘gaps’ are bridgeable. There is no more of a basis for assuming an evolutionary development from breathing to walking.’^[46]

Conclusion

The fact of the matter is that language is quintessentially a human trait. All attempts to shed light on the evolution of human language have failed—due to the lack of knowledge regarding the origin of any language, and due to the lack of an animal that possesses any ‘transitional’ form of communication. This leaves evolutionists with a huge gulf to bridge between humans with their innate communication abilities, and the grunts, barks, or chatterings of animals. As noted:

‘By the age of six, the average child has learned to use and understand about 13,000 words; by eighteen it will have a working vocabulary of 60,000 words. That means it has been learning an average of ten new words a day since its first birthday, the equivalent of a new word every 90 minutes of its waking life’ [emp. in orig.].^[47]

Another scholar who recognized this chasm between humans and animals commented:

‘The very fact... that human animals are ready to engage in a great ‘garrulity’ over the merits and demerits of essentially unprovable hypotheses, is an exciting testimony to the gap between humans and other animals.’^[49]

14 Means of epic Imagery, in a literary text, is an author's use of vivid and descriptive language to add depth to his or her work. It appeals to human senses to deepen the reader's understanding of the work. Powerful forms of imagery engage all of the senses pro lenses.

Imagery often makes writing more fascinating through the use of sensual details and adds to deeper symbolic meaning to the text alluring to all senses. Imagery is not defined to visual imagery; it includes olfactory (smell), auditory (sound), gustatory (taste), tactile (touch), thermal (heat and cold), and kinesthetic sensation (movement).

Visual Imagery: relating to visual scenes, graphics, pictures, or the sense of sight.
Example:

 

• The clouds were low and hairy like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
• The iced branches shed ‘crystal shells.’

Auditory Imagery: relating to sounds, noises, music, sense of hearing or choosing words with a sound that imitates real sounds in the form of onomatopoeia. Words such as “bang!” “achoo!” “cacaw!” "buzz!" all work to describe sounds that most people are familiar with. Onomatopoeia is used mostly in poetry, but has its function in prose.
Example:

 

• Joanna, the minute she set her eyes on him, let loose the scream of her life.
• The rumbling sound of clouds, indicated start of monsoon.

Olfactory Imagery: is concerning aromas, smell, odors, scents, or the sense of smell.
Example:

 

• She smelled as sweet as roses.
• I was awakened by the strong smell of a freshly brewed coffee.

Gustatory Imagery: pertains to tastes, flavors, palates or the sense of taste.
Example:

 

• Christina served the bland sea-prawns pasta with the sweet mariana sauce.
• Joshua touched the naked wire. It was the biggest mistake of his life.

Tactile Imagery: is concerning physical touches, textures or the sense of touch.
Example:

 

• The cold water touched his skin and he felt a shudder run down his spine.
• Chloe came running and touched every nook and corner of my face with her slobbering tongue.

Kinesthetic Imagery: pertains to movements or the sense of bodily motion.
Example:

 

• Ange's heartbeat was so loud, she felt it could be heard across the room.
• The clay oozed between Jacob's fingers as he let out a squeal of pure glee.

Organic Imagery or Subjective Imagery: are the personal experiences of a character's physique, body, including emotion and the senses of hunger, thirst, fatigue, sickness, agony and pain.
Example: Life is too much like a pathless wood.

 

Narration

A narrative often reflects your personal experience, explaining what happened during some sort of experience. Stories are narrative, and narrative essays have a similar purpose of telling the events to a reader. Narrative essay topics include recounting an experience where you learned something significant, your first day at school, your first job interview, a frightening encounter, an experience that changed your life and two differing versions of the same event. Narration is not always a personal experience, though; a book report is narrative since it typically spells out the plot of the book or story.

Description

Description uses sensory detail (sights, sounds, tactile sensations, tastes and smells) to describe a scene, person or feeling to a reader. As you describe, you create a three-dimensional picture so your reader can experience the item, place, person or emotion along with the reading. Descriptive essay topics include your favorite place, your bedroom, your best friend, the most unusual object you own, an art exhibit, the best or worst teacher you ever had, your ideal job or dream home.

 

16. The Modernist Period in English Literature occupied the years from shortly after the beginning of the twentieth century through roughly 1965. In broad terms, the period was marked by sudden and unexpected breaks with traditional ways of viewing and interacting with the world. Experimentation and individualism became virtues, where in the past they were often heartily discouraged. Modernism was set in motion, in one sense, through a series of cultural shocks. The first of these great shocks was the Great War, which ravaged Europe from 1914 through 1918, known now as World War One. At the time, this “War to End All Wars” was looked upon with such ghastly horror that many people simply could not imagine what the world seemed to be plunging towards. The first hints of that particular way of thinking called Modernism stretch back into the nineteenth century. As literary periods go, Modernism displays a relatively strong sense of cohesion and similarity across genres and locales. Furthermore, writers who adopted the Modern point of view often did so quite deliberately and self-consciously. Indeed, a central preoccupation of Modernism is with the inner self and consciousness. In contrast to the Romantic world view, the Modernist cares rather little for Nature, Being, or the overarching structures of history. Instead of progress and growth, the Modernist intelligentsia sees decay and a growing alienation of the individual. The machinery of modern society is perceived as impersonal, capitalist, and antagonistic to the artistic impulse. War most certainly had a great deal of influence on such ways of approaching the world. Two World Wars in the span of a generation effectively shell-shocked all of Western civilization.Modernism encompasses a variety of specific artistic and philosophical movements including symbolism, futurism, surrealism, expressionism, imagism, vorticism, dada, and others. Many prior theories about epistemology argued that external and absolute reality could impress itself, as it were, on an individual, as, for example, John Locke's (1632–1704) empiricism, which saw the mind beginning as a tabula rasa, a blank slate (An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 1690). Freud's description of subjective states, involving an unconscious mind full of primal impulses and counterbalancing self-imposed restrictions, was combined by Carl Jung (1875–1961) with the idea of the collective unconscious, which the conscious mind either fought or embraced. While Charles Darwin's work remade the Aristotelian concept of "man, the animal" in the public mind, Jung suggested that human impulses toward breaking social norms were not the product of childishness, or ignorance, but rather derived from the essential nature of the human animal. Another major precursor of modernism^[4] was Friedrich Nietzsche, especially his idea that psychological drives, specifically the "will to power", were more important than facts, or things. Henri Bergson (1859–1941), on the other hand, emphasized the difference between scientific clock time and the direct, subjective, human experience of time^[5] His work on time and consciousness "had a great influence on twentieth-century novelists," especially those modernists who used the stream of consciousness technique, such as Dorothy Richardson for the book Pointed Roofs (1915), James Joyce for Ulysses (1922) and Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) for Mrs Dalloway (1925) and To the Lighthouse (1927).^[6] Also important in Bergson's philosophy was the idea of élan vital, the life force, which "brings about the creative evolution of everything"^[7] His philosophy also placed a high value on intuition, though without rejecting the importance of the intellect.^[7] These various thinkers were united by a distrust of Victorian positivism and certainty.^{[ citation needed ]} Modernism as a literary movement can be seen also, as a reaction to industrialization,urbanization and new technologies.Important literary precursors of Modernism were: Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1821–81) (Crime and Punishment (1866), The Brothers Karamazov (1880)); Walt Whitman(1819–92) (Leaves of Grass) (1855–91); Charles Baudelaire (1821–67) (Les Fleurs du mal), Rimbaud (1854–91) (Illuminations, 1874); August Strindberg (1849–1912), especially his later plays, including, the trilogy To Damascus 1898–1901, A Dream Play (1902), The Ghost Sonata (1907).

 

18. Plot refers to the sequence of events inside a story which affect other events through the principle of cause and effect. The causal events of a plot can be thought of as a series of sentences linked by "and so." Plots can vary from simple structures such as in a traditional ballad to complex interwoven structures sometimes referred to as an imbroglio. The term plot can serve as a verb and refer to a character planning future actions in the story.

In the narrative sense, the term highlights the important points which have important consequences within the story, according to Ansen Dibell. The term is similar in meaning to the term storyline.

English novelist E. M. Forster described plot as the cause-and-effect relationship between events in a story. According to Forster, " The king died, and then the queen died, is a story, while The king died, and then the queen died of grief, is a plot. Consider the following:

1. The prince searches for Cinderella with the glass shoe

2. Cinderella's sisters tried the shoe on but it does not fit

3. The shoe fits Cinderella's foot so the prince finds her

The first event is causally related to the third event, while the second event, while descriptive, does not directly impact the outcome. As a result, according to Dibell, the plot can be described numerically as 1⇢3 while the story can be described as 1⇢2⇢3. A story orders events from beginning to end in a time sequence.^[1] Teri Shaffer Yamada agrees that a plot does not include memorable scenes within a story which do not relate directly to other events but only "major events that move the action in a narrative."^[7] For example, in the 1997 film Titanic, when Rose climbs on the railing at the front of the ship and spreads her hands as if she's flying, this scene is memorable but does not directly influence other events, so it may not be considered as part of the plot. Another example of a memorable scene which is not part of the plot occurs in the 1980 film The Empire Strikes Back, when Han Solo is frozen in carbonite.^[1] Steve Alcorn, a fiction-writing coach, said the main plot elements of The Wizard of Oz could be summarized as follows:

A tornado picks up a house and drops it on a witch, a little girl meets some interesting traveling companions, a wizard sends them on a mission, and they melt a witch with a bucket of water

In 1863, Gustav Freytag, a German writer, advocated a model based upon Aristotle's theory of tragedy. This is now called "Freytag's pyramid," which divides a drama into five parts, and provides function to each part. These parts are: exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and denouement.

The first phase in Freytag's pyramid is the exposition. The exposition introduces the main characters of the story, especially the main character, also known as the protagonist. It shows how the characters relate to one another, their goals and motivations, as well as their moral character. During the exposition, the protagonist learns their main goal and what is at stake.

Freytag’s definition of conflict must not be confused with Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch's definition of conflict. Quiller-Couch uses the term to categorize plots into types (for example, man vs. society). The main difference is that according to Quiller-Couch's mode of analysis, an entire story can be discussed in terms of its conflict. Freytag's definition of conflict refers to the second act in a five-act play, a point of time in which all of the major characters have been introduced, their motives and allegiances have been made clear, and they have begun to struggle against one another.

Rising action is the second phase in Freytag's five-phase structure. It starts with a conflict, for example, the death of a character. The inciting incident is the point of the plot that begins the conflict. It is the event that catalyzes the protagonist to go into motion and to take action. Rising action involves the buildup of events until the climax.

In this phase, the protagonist understands his or her goal and begins to work toward it. Smaller problems thwart their initial success and their progress is directed primarily against these secondary obstacles. This phase demonstrates how the protagonist overcomes these obstacles.

The climax is the turning point or highest point of the story. The protagonist makes the single big decision that defines not only the outcome of the story, but also who they are as a person. Freytag defines the climax as the third of the five dramatic phases which occupies the middle of the story.

At the beginning of this phase, the protagonist finally clears away the preliminary barriers and engages with the adversary. Usually, both the protagonist and the antagonist have a plan to win against the other as they enter this phase. For the first time, the audience sees the pair going against one another in direct or nearly direct conflict.

This struggle usually results in neither character completely winning or losing. In most cases, each character's plan is both partially successful and partially foiled by their adversary. The central struggle between the two characters is unique in that the protagonist makes a decision which shows their moral quality, and ultimately decides their fate. In a tragedy, the protagonist here makes a poor decision or a miscalculation that demonstrates their tragic flaw.

According to Freytag, the falling action phase consists of events that lead to the ending. Character's actions resolve the problem. In the beginning of this phase, the antagonist often has the upper hand. The protagonist has never been further from accomplishing their goal. The outcome depends on which side the protagonist has put themselves on.

In this phase the protagonist and antagonist have solved their problems and either the protagonist or antagonist wins the conflict. The conflict officially ends. Some stories show what happens to the characters after the conflict ends and, or they show what happens to the characters in the future.

 

Image, Artistic

a universal category in art; the depiction, interpretation, and perception of life through the creation of objects that produce anaesthetic effect. The term “image” often refers to an element or part of an artistic whole, generally a fragment that as it werepossesses an independent life and content, for example, a literary character or a symbolic image such as the sail in M. Iu.Lermontov’s poem “The Sail.” In a more general sense, an artistic image is the very basis of a work of art from the viewpointof the work’s expressiveness, intensity, and meaningfulness.

In comparison with other aesthetic categories, the artistic image is relatively late in origin. The rudiments of a theory ofartistic images may be found in Aristotle’s doctrine of mimesis, that is, the artist’s free imitation of life insofar as life is ableto produce integrated and internally structured objects; Aristotle noted the aesthetic satisfaction to be gained from suchimitation. For a long time, owing to the classical tradition, art was viewed as a craft or skill, and consequently the plasticarts predominated among the arts. Aesthetic thought was limited to the concepts of the canon and later of style and form,which clarified the transformative relationship of the artist to his material. Only when the less concrete arts—literature andmusic—became foremost was it recognized that artistically transformed material embodies a certain ideal that to an extentis similar to an idea.

Hegelian and post-Hegelian aesthetics, including the aesthetics of V. G. Belinskii, made extensive use of the category ofthe artistic image, contrasting the image as the product of artistic thought to the results of abstract, conceptual thought—that is, to the syllogism, deduction, proof, or formula. The universality of the category of the artistic image has often beendisputed since then, because the connotations of objectivity and clarity in the term “artistic image” seemed to make theterm inapplicable to the nonobjective, nonrepresentational arts, in particular to music. However, modern aesthetics, andprimarily Soviet aesthetics, widely uses the theory of the artistic image, regarding it as the most promising theory for theelucidation of the distinctive nature of art.

Various aspects of the artistic image may be distinguished that demonstrate its simultaneous involvement in many areas ofknowledge and being.

In ontological terms the artistic image reflects the ideal and is as it were a stylized object superimposed on its own materialsubstratum. Marble is not the flesh it represents, a two-dimensional surface is not a three-dimensional space, and a storyabout an event is not the event itself. An artistic image is not identical with its material base, although it may be recognizedin and by means of this base. “The nonaesthetic aspect of material, in contrast to the content, does not form part of theaesthetic object. The artist deals [with the nonaesthetic aspect] and aesthetics does so as well, but primary aestheticcontemplation does not deal with it” (M. M. Bakhtin, Voprosy literatury i estetiki, 1975, pp. 46, 47). Nevertheless, the imageis more closely united with its material basis than is number or any other ideal object dealt with in the exact sciences. Sinceto an extent the image is uninvolved with the literary material it is based on, the image uses its potentialities as signs of itsown content. For example, a statue has no relationship to the chemical composition of the marble it is made of, but it doeshave a relationship to the marble’s texture and color.

In this semiotic aspect, the artistic image is a sign, that is, a means of semantic communication in a given culture or amongrelated cultures. Similarly, the image is a manifestation of imagined existence, repeatedly renewed in the imagination of thereader or observer who possesses the key or cultural code needed to identify and comprehend the image. In order tounderstand a traditional Japanese or Chinese play, one must be acquainted with a special language of gestures and poses.But even Pushkin’s The Stone Guest would not be wholly comprehensible to a reader who was completely unfamiliar withthe Don Juan legend and its symbolic language. In order to understand a motion picture, the viewer must have anelementary familiarity with the language of cinematography. For example, he must understand the function of large-scaleshots, which alarmed the unaccustomed viewer in the early days of the cinema. Consequently, in the material on which theimage is based, the image-forming elements are those that are distinct from the strictly technical elements. For example, itis not acoustics but tone which is an element of a harmonic system. The image-forming elements constitute part of aspecific language that is used to describe a given art form or artistic tradition and that is conditioned by cultural agreement.

In gnoseological terms, the artistic image is a product of the imagination, closest to such types of cognitive thought as theassumption. Aristotle observed that the various aspects of art are in the sphere of the probable, whose very existencecannot be confirmed or denied. It follows that the artistic image can be an assumption or hypothesis only owing to its ownideal, imaginary nature. Rembrandt’s painting The Return of the Prodigal Son exists as such and is kept in the Hermitage,but that which is depicted on the canvas, while it does not exist in reality, has the potentiality of such existence. At thesame time, the artistic image is not simply a formal assumption but (even in the case of deliberate fantasy) an assumptionthat is suggested by the artist with maximum sensory persuasiveness and that attains a semblance of reality. Related tothis is the strictly aesthetic aspect of the artistic image—a unification, illumination, and vitalization of the artistic material bymeans of semantic expressiveness.

In its aesthetic aspect, the artistic image is a rational, lifelike entity that contains nothing superfluous, accidental, orsupplementary and that creates an impression of beauty owing precisely to the complete unity and ultimate meaningfulnessof its component parts. In the autonomous, total existence of artistic reality, nothing is directed toward such external aimsas commentary or illustration by means of example; this bears witness to the striking similarity of the artistic image to aliving person. A person is perceived in depth not from without, as an element in a causal chain of elements, but from thatperson’s own vital center. A person also has the ability to evaluate the outside world in terms of space and time owing to theinternal mechanisms of regulation that also maintain that person’s own continually changing sense of identity. But withoutthe isolating power of imagination and without exclusion from reality, the artistic image could not attain the intensity andlogic that bring it to life. In other words, the verisimilitude of an artistic image is related to its imaginary existence.

As a living entity, an image is autonomous; as an ideal object it is objective, like a number or an equation; and as anassumption it is subjective. However, as a sign the image is intersubjective, communicative, and comprehensible during adialogue between the author or artist and the reader or viewer. In this sense the image is not an object or a thought but atwo-way process. To an extent this may be illustrated by examining the internal structure of elementary artistic images. Thestructural diversity of the different types of artistic images may be reduced to two basic principles: that of metonymy (a partor feature instead of the whole) and that of metaphor (an associative linking of different objects).

On a conceptual level, two types of artistic generalization correspond to the above two structural principles. The symbolcorresponds to the metaphor, and the type, to metonymy; compare A. A. Potebnia’s characterization of metaphor andmetonymy in his collection Aesthetics and Poetics (1976, pp. 553–54). The artistic image tends toward metonymy in therepresentational arts. This is because any rendering of outward reality is a reconstruction based on those lines, forms, anddetails that are viewed as most important by the artist, that represent what is perceived and replace it, and that can bedepicted with the resources of the art form in question. Metaphoric linking, transfer, and indirect use of artistic images aretypical mainly of the expressive arts: lyric poetry (“the poet begins his discourse from afar”) and music. In these arts theaesthetic object comes into being as it were on the boundary of the two terms that are linked; it emerges from theintersecting of the image’s elements. Both these principles of organizing aesthetic objects are not conceptual and analyticbut are organic, since neither can be separated from the emotional aspect of the image.

In the epithet, the point at which the metaphoric and metonymic principles converge may be observed. The primaryaesthetic trait of the epithet is that it is combined with the word it modifies rather than added to it as a logical differential.The epithet therefore intensifies the concrete, elemental content of the word it modifies without narrowing that word’ssemantic scope. It is well known that the opposite is true of conceptual thought: the more concrete, the narrower.

In the phrase “the blue sea” the epithet “blue” as a metonymic feature makes the sea conceivable as such by removing itfrom abstract characterlessness. As a metaphoric feature the epithet shifts the sea to another conceptual sphere, that of anearthly expanse. In this elementary image of the sea, everything that is characteristic of the sea as such accompanies themeaning. Nothing remains outside the boundary of the aesthetic object, and understanding is achieved without a sacrifice ofabstraction and simplification. At the same time, this concrete unity is only latent, since the epithet “blue” provides only aschematic internal form to the image of the sea, indicating in advance the direction our imagination can take and the limitswithin which our imagination can function. The sea must be perceived as something blue, but within these limits a broadrange of concepts and associations is possible. These as it were constitute the life and inner dynamism of the image—itsconceivable substance, its self-sufficiency independent of the author or artist, and its ability to have many aspects whileretaining its identity. The organic aspect of the artistic image is inconceivable without the image’s schematic aspect, whichestablishes the author’s or artist’s subjective intention and at the same time provides scope for the reader’s or viewer’sobjectivity.

Thus, no artistic image is wholly concrete. The elements of clarity and stability in the image are enveloped by otherelements of indefiniteness and concealment. This results in a certain incompleteness of the artistic image in comparisonwith the reality of actual objects. Art seeks to become reality but is constrained by its own limitations. However, the imagealso has the advantage of its own polysemy and its capacity for elucidation by means of many varied interpretations, whosenumber is limited only by the author’s or artist’s emphasis. For example, the respective interpretations of Pushkin’s novel inverse Eugene Onegin that were made by Belinskii and by F. M. Dostoevsky, although they constitute a polemic and in manyways contradict each other, are valid in terms of Pushkin’s artistic intentions in the novel. On the other hand, D. I. Pisarev’sinterpretation of Eugene Onegin is opposed to the very values emphasized by the poet himself in the novel.

The merging of that which is organic and that which is schematic in the artistic image underscores the dual relationship ofthe image to the criterion of truth. This has undoubtedly been the most complex and paradoxical aspect of art ever since artbecame an independent field of human endeavor. Beyond the artistic image as a hypothesis and a means of communicationis the creator—the individual artist. This is also so in the case of anonymous or collectively produced works of art, wherethe aesthetic object also expresses the viewpoint of the person or persons creating it.

However, an image is subject to its creator not absolutely but only in its schematic changes and its internal form. Thisinternal form is composed of the semantic tension instilled by the artist, a tension that is part of the emotional exterior of theartistic image and that controls the image’s perception. Moreover, from the viewpoint of its own organic unity, an imagebelongs to itself. It becomes objectivized, that is, it becomes detached from its psychologically arbitrary source—thenonaesthetic views and intentions of the artist. It is true that the artist himself creates a work of art from beginning to end.However, in relation to the organic aspect of the image the artist is not an authoritative creator but a sensitive craftsmanwho nurtures the independent development of an artistic idea and the growth of a living, developed seed.

The inner form of an image is personal and bears the indelible impression of its creator’s ideology and his selective andcreative initiative. Consequently, an image represents the creator’s evaluation of human life, has cultural value, andexpresses historically relevant tendencies and ideals. But as an organism that vivifies literature or art, an artistic imageconstitutes a sphere in which the aesthetically harmonizing laws of life function to the utmost. In the artistic image there isno infinity in a negative sense and no unwarranted outcome. The range of perception is extensive, and time is reversible.Coincidence is not absurd, necessity is not oppressive, and clarity triumphs over indistinctness. In these aspects, artisticvalue is a relative sociocultural value and one of life’s permanent values. The artistic image represents an ideal potentialityof our human universe. For this reason an artistic assumption, unlike a scientific hypothesis, cannot be discarded asunneeded and be replaced by another assumption, even if the historical limitations of its creator seem obvious.

 

The dialects of Old English

Writing and sounds

It is common to divide England into four dialect areas for the Old English period. First of all note that by England that part of mainland Britain is meant which does not include Scotland, Wales and Cornwall. These three areas were Celtic from the time of the arrival of the Celts some number of centuries BC and remained so well into the Middle English period.

The dialect areas of England can be traced back quite clearly to the Germanic tribes which came and settled in Britain from the middle of the 5th century onwards. There were basically three tribal groups among the earlier settlers in England: the Angles, the Saxons and the Jutes. The Angles came from the area of Angeln (roughly the Schleswig-Holstein of today), the Saxons from the area of east and central Lower Saxony and the Jutes from the Jutland peninsula which forms west Denmark today. The correlation between original tribe and later English dialect is as follows:

Germanic tribes and regions in England where they mainly settled

Saxons — South of the Thames (West Saxon area)
Angles — Middle and Northern England (Mercia and Northumbria), including lowland Scotland
Jutes — South-East of England (Kent)

Of these three groups the most important are the Saxons as they established themselves as the politically dominant force in the Old English period. A number of factors contributed to this not least the strong position of the West Saxon kings, chief among these being Alfred (late 9th century). The West Saxon dialect was also strongest in the scriptorias (i.e. those places where manuscripts were copied and/or written originally) so that for written communication West Saxon was the natural choice.

A variety of documents have nonetheless been handed down in the language of the remaining areas. Notably from Northumbria a number of documents are extant which offer us a fairly clear picture of this dialect area. At this point one should also note that the central and northern part of England is linguistically fairly homogeneous in the Old English period and is termed Anglia. To differentiate sections within this area one speaks of Mercia which is the central region and Northumbria which is the northern part (i.e. north of the river Humber).

A few documents are available to us in the dialect of Kent (notably a set of sermons). This offers us a brief glimpse at the characteristics of this dialect which in the Middle English period was of considerable significance. Notable in Kentish is the fact that Old English /y:/ was pronounced /e:/ thus giving us words like evil in Modern English where one would expect something like ivil.