Pauciloquy (pronounced par-sel-a-qwe)
Economical speech; the use of few words when speaking.
1700s: From the Classical Latin pauciloquium (the fact of speaking few words), the construct being pauci- (from the Latin paucī (few, a small group), from paucus (linked to the English “paucity”), ultimately from the primitive Indo-European pehw- (few, small (and the source of the English “few”)) + -loquy, from loquor (to speak). The –loquy suffix was extracted from Latin compounds such as soliloquium (soliloquy) and vaniloquium (idle talk) and was used to form nouns related to speaking or speech and, as a direct inheritance from Latin, the formations were almost always stressed on the antepenult (the third to last syllable). In Chaldean numerology the numerical value of pauciloquy is 1 and in Pythagorean it’s 5. The alternative spelling pauciloquie dates from the seventeenth century and is listed as obsolete but it has in the twentieth century appeared in poetry. Pauciloquy is a noun and pauciloquent is an adjective; the noun plural is pauciloquies.
Pauciloquy is an unusual word in that most etymologists maintain it has no true synonym and some even that there’s no antonym although not all concur with the latter view. This view is based on pauciloquy being a “neutral” word while possible synonyms either don’t mean quite the same thing (briefness, curtness, dumbness, muteness, silence) or are in some way perceived as “loaded” (taciturnity, terseness, quietude, laconism, reserve, reticence). That seems unfair to “brevity” (the quality of expressing much in few words) and William Shakespeare (1564–1616) had fun with that in Hamlet (circa 1600) by having the anything but pauciloquent Polonius deliver the famous line “...brevity is the soul of wit…” (act 2, scene 2). Brevity would seem a synonym for pauciloquy. The etymologists may though be on sounder ground in saying there’s no true antonym because, in the strict technical sense, the word describes a specific trait of speech. Other words certainly go in the direction although they’re not quite the same and one can be loquacious, eloquent, expressive or expansive with few words or many. Probably “verbosity”, “garrulity”, “wordy” or “verbose” go closest. Most charming is the US form “windy”, a contraction of “long winded” and apparently one of Harry Truman’s (1884–1972; POTUS 1945-1953) favorites when complaining of senators whose speeches seemed interminable even when not filibustering. Multiloquy is of course a perfect antonym and a few dictionaries do grant it an entry but professional etymologists remain sceptical, noting it was coined only as a linguistic exercise and other than appearing in lists of obscure or unusual words, there’s no evidence of use.
Lindsay Lohan and her lawyer in court, Los Angeles, December, 2011.
In politics, it’s been observed more men talked themselves into trouble than ever talked their way out. Perhaps the exemplar was a certain W.M. Jack (1890-1982), who between 1949-1966 held the seat of North Sydney in the Australian parliament for the Liberal Party. A rarity among talkative politicians, during his long and undistinguished career he became known as “the silent one”, in 17 years delivering five speeches, one of which was: “I move that the motion be put”. It’s not known if Shakespeare’s Polonius was in his mind when he began his penultimate address to the house with the words: “I can remain silent no longer”. His constituents rewarded his pauciloquence: he retired undefeated having increased his majority on most of the six occasions he sought re-election and in gratitude, in the New Year Honours List (1968) he was appointed an OBE (Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (an order of chivalry established in 1917 and since on many occasions awarded to some characters whose lives have appeared remote from chivalrous conduct) for services to the parliament and the community. In mostly maintaining a silence, Mr Jack probably contributed more to public debate than many more talkative politicians. Of course, if one has no need to seek votes, one may with few restraints tend to mulitloquy.
Fidel Castro (1926–2016; leader of Cuba 1959-2011) delivered infamously long speeches, his address to the 872nd plenary meeting of the UNGA (General Assembly of the United Nations) on 26 September 1960 lasting 4 hours & 29 minutes, a record which still stands. Given the UNGA vies with the European Parliament for the title of the world’s most pointless deliberative body, it’s not impossible the record will one day be broken. Things could however have been worse. In January 1957, India’s V.K. Krishna Menon (1896-1974) delivered an address of almost eight hours to the 792nd session of the UNSC (United Nations Security Council) on the subject of Kashmir, a troubled region still. Mr Krishna Menon’s epic length performance was spread over two days and, collapsing from exhaustion after his first session, had to be hospitalized before concluding his remarks. The length may not have much pleased other delegates but it was well received in India, the vibrant press dubbing him the “Hero of Kashmir”.
Conceptual sketch of Germania, focused on the North-South & East-West Axes.
Although in the literature there’s the odd wry comment, Adolf Hitler (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945) was not noted for the subtlety of his humor but there was the odd instance of him falling victim. As a prelude to the huge day-long national celebration marking the Führer’s 50th birthday on 20 April 1939, on the previous day Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) delivered a speech marking the official opening of the just-built East-West Axis, the central avenue of what was intended to be the Welthauptstadt (world-capital), the re-modeled Berlin which would be re-named Germania. Hitler was accustomed to listening to long speeches from his many paladins, divided usually between self-promotion, effusions of loyalty and hero-worship but despite being part of the court circle for years, Speer had never spoken in public. He regarded Speer as his protégé and had either been capable of such a thing, they might have been friends and there’s some evidence he thought of the event as him “introducing” the then still obscure Speer to the public.
Expecting an oration of some length, Hitler sat down to listen so he might in his mind compose an appropriately solemn reply but Speer instead stood at the lectern and announced: “Mein Führer, I herewith report the completion of the East-West Axis. May the work speak for itself.” Abruptly, he then sat down. Hitler presumably already had in mind something of what he was going to say because his reply was untroubled but he certainly got the joke, afterwards telling his architect with a laugh: “You got me there you rascal, Speer, two sentences indeed.”, adding “Still, I have to admit, it was one of the best speeches I have ever heard”. As someone who had in the past endured long, droning addresses from undistinguished orators such as notorious drunkard Dr Robert Ley (1890–1945; head of the Deutsche Arbeitsfront (German Labour Front) 1933-1945) or Alfred Rosenberg (1892-1946; Nazi Party "theorist" & "philosopher"), the brevity probably was welcome but it was an interesting insight into the their relationship which in some sense remained to the end a "special case". Under cross-examination before the IMT (International Military Tribunal) at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946), Speer testified: "If Adolf Hitler had ever had a friend, I would have been that friend." Most historians have since concluded neither was capable of true friendship although perhaps for different reasons.
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