Читать книгу THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING - J. BERG ESENWEIN DALE CARNAGEY - Страница 14

Hear how he clears the points o' Faith

Wi' rattlin' an' thumpin'!

Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,

He's stampin' an' he's jumpin'.

--ROBERT BURNS, _Holy Fair_.

The Latins have bequeathed to us a word that has no precise equivalent

in our tongue, therefore we have accepted it, body unchanged--it is the

word _tempo_, and means _rate of movement_, as measured by the time

consumed in executing that movement.

Thus far its use has been largely limited to the vocal and musical arts,

but it would not be surprising to hear tempo applied to more concrete

matters, for it perfectly illustrates the real meaning of the word to

say that an ox-cart moves in slow tempo, an express train in a fast

tempo. Our guns that fire six hundred times a minute, shoot at a fast

tempo; the old muzzle loader that required three minutes to load, shot

at a slow tempo. Every musician understands this principle: it requires

longer to sing a half note than it does an eighth note.

Now tempo is a tremendously important element in good platform work, for

when a speaker delivers a whole address at very nearly the same rate of

speed he is depriving himself of one of his chief means of emphasis and

power. The baseball pitcher, the bowler in cricket, the tennis server,

all know the value of change of pace--change of tempo--in delivering

their ball, and so must the public speaker observe its power.

_Change of Tempo Lends Naturalness to the Delivery_

Naturalness, or at least seeming naturalness, as was explained in the

chapter on "Monotony," is greatly to be desired, and a continual change

of tempo will go a long way towards establishing it. Mr. Howard Lindsay,

Stage Manager for Miss Margaret Anglin, recently said to the present

writer that change of pace was one of the most effective tools of the

actor. While it must be admitted that the stilted mouthings of many

actors indicate cloudy mirrors, still the public speaker would do well

to study the actor's use of tempo.

There is, however, a more fundamental and effective source at which to

study naturalness--a trait which, once lost, is shy of recapture: that

source is the common conversation of any well-bred circle. _This_ is the

standard we strive to reach on both stage and platform--with certain

differences, of course, which will appear as we go on. If speaker and

actor were to reproduce with absolute fidelity every variation of

utterance--every whisper, grunt, pause, silence, and explosion--of

conversation as we find it typically in everyday life, much of the

interest would leave the public utterance. Naturalness in public address

is something more than faithful reproduction of nature--it is the

reproduction of those _typical_ parts of nature's work which are truly

representative of the whole.

The realistic story-writer understands this in writing dialogue, and we

must take it into account in seeking for naturalness through change of

tempo.

Suppose you speak the first of the following sentences in a slow tempo,

the second quickly, observing how natural is the effect. Then speak both

with the same rapidity and note the difference.

I can't recall what I did with my knife. Oh, now I remember I

gave it to Mary.

We see here that a change of tempo often occurs in the same

sentence--for tempo applies not only to single words, groups of words,

and groups of sentences, but to the major parts of a public speech as

well.