This Week’s Fun & Fancy Word: Tintinnabulation!
This Week’s Fun & Fancy Word Is…
T
intinnabulation:
No, it isn’t the number of times a famous German Shepherd saved the day in the movies (that would be Rintintinnabulation). It’s actually the sound of ringing bells. Can you hear them as you say tintinnabulation?
Edgar Allan Poe sure could. And, he celebrates the sonic overtones of tintinnabulation in his poem The Bells. But it’s Poe, so there’s a good-sized dose of menace, melancholy, and mortality. (Apparently, Rin Tin Tin couldn’t save the day every day.)
Take A Plunge Into
Poe’s Onomatopoeia.
Tintinnabulation. It’s an onomatopoeic word. You know, words that sound like what they mean. And, tintinnabulation means the sound of ringing, tinkling, or chiming bells. Can you hear them as you say the word tintinnabulation?
Edgar Allan Poe sure could. And, he celebrates the sonic overtones of tintinnabulation in his poem The Bells. But it’s Poe, so there’s a good-sized dose of menace, melancholy, and mortality.
Poe’s poem The Bells opens with the tintinnabulation of sleigh bells, lending a sense of merriment to the frosty night air.
Its second stanza mimics the harmonious tone produced by golden wedding bells, a mellower, richer timbre than the sound created by silver sleigh bells.
The third stanza contains a stark shift from the earlier joyous forms of tintinnabulation. It imitates “loud alarum bells” – clanging bells that evoke a sense of terror.
And, The Bells’ final stanza reproduces the somber tolling of iron bells, those that conjure a sense of profound sadness and mortality. And it’s Poe, after all, so it’s a ghoul who is tolling these bells.
The Bells
I
Hear the sledges with the bells–
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells–
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells–
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bells–
Brazen bells!
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now–now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet, the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells–
Of the bells–
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells–
In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells–
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy meaning of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people–ah, the people–
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone–
They are neither man nor woman–
They are neither brute nor human–
They are Ghouls:–
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A pæan from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the pæan of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells–
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells–
Of the bells, bells, bells–
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells–
Of the bells, bells, bells–
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells–
Bells, bells, bells–
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
Pair this poetic experience with:
See Below For More Related Posts.
Images:
Fun & Fancy Word: This Book is Banned staff
Immerse Yourself: Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash
The Bells: Photo by Shaouraav Sarose Shreshtha on Unsplash
Share This Post, Choose a Platform!
Stay in the know about what’s in our ever-growing treasure trove of literary goodness. And, get your free Discover Everything a Book Has to Offer packet.
Related Posts
April is National Poetry Month! A fundamental part of language, poetry predates writing itself. Every culture has its own take on the art, so what better way to celebrate humanity than by studying poetry? There are many ways to do so. Here’s our list:... Read More
This week's Fun & Fancy word is Hangdog. What does it have to do with your mom's cookie jar? Find out here.... Read More
Edith Wharton’s novel, The Age of Innocence, is the first Pulitzer Prize winner written by a woman. But that isn’t the only reason it matters. It’s a story about how we react to change… and who we hurt when we resist it. Take a closer look.... Read More
This week’s Fun and Fancy Word is… Yammer! It’s less confusing than a gibber, but once it goes on long enough, you’ll still regret raising the subject anyway. ... Read More