Rhymes and poems in native language – Language and the Mind

I have a question from Issam Munir, a resident doctor and a neurologist in Baghdad, Iraq: “When does a human start getting indulged rhymes and poems? And what is the neurodevelopment that happens in the brain for that? And why is it difficult for someone to enjoy poetry in other languages in the same way as it is with his or her own language even after being fluent in that language? For example, I will interrupt the question and say maybe most of the Arabs don’t enjoy any poetry in English. Does it have to do with the phrases and the words being used? Or is it related to developing special networks that would need to be developed an earlier age?”

Interesting question, and I can think about rhymes and poetry. Poetry could be some middle ground between typical face-to-face language and music, so you could think about this on a continuum. Poetry might operate between standard language and music. What I mean by that is, poetry—again, there are huge cultural differences—but in a lot of poetry, there are certain almost rules of syntax and structuring, even at the sentence level. Prosody, again, emphasis on a certain word, meter, these sorts of things, those are, I think, we’re all designed, our right hemispheres are designed to be on the lookout for that kind of structuring.

And I think depending on whatever culture you grow up in, you commit your right hemisphere to that prosodic pattern. And in the case—I mean, this isn’t just poetry, but there are certain prosodies where, you know, in English, you finish a sentence, if you’re asking a question, you finish with a rising intonation. That’s not true in all languages. Some languages, you have a falling intonation. And there are all sorts of various cultural and linguistic differences across languages.

But those things, once you commit to them, they’re hard to uncommit to. Just like once you commit to English phonemes, it’s very, very hard for me to hear Arabic. Some Arabic speech sounds I can’t even process. Literally, my ear does not hear the distinction between them. And I think that also might operate at higher levels, these prosodic structures. It’s not that you can’t hear them, but you might not be able to see the pattern that holds them together.

And so, I think probably what’s happening is not so different from when you’re committed to your native language with regular old speech. I think you commit to the rhyme structure, and the intonation structure, and the musical structure of your culture’s rhyme and music. And so, I think it’s more of this neural commitment and plasticity, kind of locking in place what you think will be useful for you to navigate your particular language and culture.

This post is part of multiple topics about “Language and the Mind”, a podcast that has been published in Real Sciences with Spencer Kelly the co-director of Colgate’s Center for Language and Brain in Colgate University.

Link to Language and the mind: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Language-and-the-Mind/dp/B085SZ9PSZ