As a poet, Walcott is completely obsessed with language and sound, even when uttered by non-human speakers. That's right: Communicating through language is not limited only to poets and fishermen. In Omeros, the trees speak through their silence; the ocean communicates through its vastness, since nothing can be written on the surface of the waves; and babbling brooks whisper truths about a violent past.
Heck, even the grime on the metal skivvies of statues along the Thames says something about the movement of time. If you're sharp enough, it is possible to decipher the language of world—though you may not like what it says.
Language is also the first (and best) way that cultural identity and memory get passed to future generations. So much so, in fact, that loss of the mother tongue is one of the greatest sorrows of slavery. Acquiring that language again—and the cultural practices that go with it—becomes a huge part of the healing process.
Questions About Language and Communication
- In what ways does Walcott use non-verbal language to communicate important ideas in this work? Give examples, please.
- How does Ma Kilman find the plant she needs to heal Philoctete? Why was it so difficult for her to "remember" the name of the herb?
- Why does Afolabe have such a problem with Achille's attitude toward his (Achille's) name?
- Why is it important to the narrator that death "speaks his own language" (LVII.ii.287)?
Chew on This
No one heals in Omeros without reconnecting with a lost form of language or communication.
Ma Kilman's ability to understand the language of the ants (i.e., her ancestors) implies that our mother tongue is a genetic part of our lives rather than something only learned through use.