The Scribe

On the Raw: Sounding a Barbaric Yawp.

I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable; I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

– Walt Whitman

Today, in my never-ending quest to find an identity among the sea of words written by my contemporaries, I remembered this quote by one Walt Whitman.  Sadly, I originally heard this quote in the movie Dead Poets Society, having at that stage of my young life dismissed poetry as the lesser of literary pursuits.  Keep your poets, I pooh-poohed, I prefer a novelist to them any day.  Yet poetry is often the most accurate mirror through which we can view our own souls, and it is foolishness in the highest regard to dismiss such a powerful tool when self-improvement and self-exploration are the largest tools of a successful author.
But what does it mean to be untamed, untranslatable, to sound out a barbaric yawp.  A yawp, even one truly barbaric, is simply a shout or yell which is very coarse and hoarse.  Essentially, it is a scream in which no aspect of voice is preserved.  The yawper is venting emotion at the highest decibel he or she can manage.  Leaving nothing behind, holding nothing back.  To yawp is to voice with all of your soul, with all of your might, with all of the talents you have been given or have earned.  With writing, you aren’t necessarily shouting yourself hoarse, but the same concept should apply.

When you write, you must be willing to own it completely.  Do not write in a fashion where timidity calls the shots.  Do not write in a style where you are not expressing the most passionate, honest version of yourself.  You do no one a service with that writing, most especially yourself.  We live in an era where anyone with the time and inclination can put their ideas onto a medium where it can be read.  It is the best of times, and yet it is also the worst of times (thank you again Mr. Dickens).  To be heard over the ceaseless susurrus of the hissing which plagues the Internet, you have to be willing to stand out.  You have to give all of your soul, all of your might, and all of your effort into the writing.  You must hold nothing back.  You must be brave, and sound the yawp of your soul over the roofs of the world.  Anything less, and you will risk becoming just another part of the background.
Lest you think I mean something I do not, I am not trying to insinuate that your writing must be harmful to no one.  Life and growth are inextricably tied to tragedy and suffering.  No one great, no one truly outstanding, ever had a past of idyllic fancy and cherubic childhood.  In overcoming the shattered parts of our past, we gain the strength to have our voices heard by those who share our present.  Not all voices which need to be heard say things which do not wound.  Do not overlook the strength in being willing to delve into your own harmed past.  Do not pass up the passion that being willing to bleed can give, or being willing to let the blood flow in others.  When my career takes off, I will sound my yawp, heedless of those who might find the call painful.  I will talk about things that are divisive.  I will have my characters experience all the wonder and the horror that makes up this shared dream we call reality.  I will not back down, I will not stand idly by, giving the men and women alongside me who have suffered these tragedies no voice.  
No, I will sound my yawp.  Loud and clear, full of all the passion and the pride I can muster.  I will yawp until my fingers bleed, until my heart bleeds.  I will let all of me flow into the words which will become my sounding, and I will shout it for all the world to hear.  To hold back at that moment is to invite failure.  To hold back at that moment is to show weakness before the onrushing tide.  Do not be weak, for you are all barbarians.  Yawp, my brothers and sisters, yawp for all that you are and all that you wish to be.  You owe it to yourselves. 

Yawpfully,
Justin

Teller of tales. Horrible liar. Fair hand at video games and card games.

One Comment

  • Anonymous

    You sadly heard this quote in one of the finest films made in that decade? For shame sir. You were privileged to hear it there.

    The rest of what you have to say is on point.