The word “bard” came up the other day — I’d remembered hearing the term, especially associated with Shakespeare. But I looked it up to be sure it really meant what I thought it did. Here’s the dictionary definition:
(formerly) a person who composed and recited epic or heroic poems, often while playing the harp, lyre, or the like.
one of an ancient Celtic order of composers and reciters of poetry.
I’d have to mark myself correct as to knowing what a bard is, but that got me to thinking….
For most of human history, storytellers passed everything there was to know from one generation to the next — “out loud.” Rhyme and rhythm made things easier to remember, so the stories were usually told in poems and songs.
During the Middle Ages in Europe, singing storytellers were the keepers of information. In 13th century Ireland, these storytellers were called “bards.” The really good ones got to sit next to the king in his court. Then along came the troubadours — singers who wandered around the countryside, telling stories in the form of ballads. That’s the way the everyday news got passed along, too.
So this gets me to what I actually wanted to write about today….
Because of these bards, troubadours, storytellers, etc., when people first started to read, most of them couldn’t understand the words unless they said them out loud. Since they’d been “listening” to all this information, when they started to read, it was usually out loud and to each other — just like stories had always been told.
These new readers needed to hear the words as well as see them. My extensive research on the subject found out that it was probably into the 15th century before people got the hang of reading silently.
After people started to read, the default assumption was if you were reading around other people, you’d read aloud and share it. Today, our default assumption is we’ll read it silently and keep it to ourselves.
That strange new trend of reading to yourself obviously drew some criticism — some skeptics thought it attracted daydreamers and the “sin of idleness.” And even worse, it let people learn and reflect without religious guidance or censure.
I think it’s lucky people learned to read to themselves — can you imagine what the library would be like if they hadn’t?
— 30 —