I am a Rodgers & Hammerstein fan, so of course I was interested in the live broadcast of The Sound of Music last month. (Bonus: It was performed in a former Grumman building in Bethpage, New York. I grew up in Bethpage, and my father retired from Grumman.)
A thought popped into my head as I was watching Carrie Underwood (playing Maria von Trapp) and the children singing “Do Re Mi”: She’s using the same reasoning that shapes much writing instruction today.
If you’re familiar with the Sound of Music, you know that Maria (Carrie) decides to teach the children how to sing. And she begins with music theory: Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do. When the children are befuddled, she makes it fun.
Wouldn’t it be easier just to teach the children “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”? or “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”?
English teachers do the same thing. (Sigh.) If you decide you really, really want to be a better writer, some eager-beaver English teacher is sure to load you up with Latin-based grammatical terms.
Good grief. You’ve been using language since infancy. Why not build on the skills you already have?
On to another thought triggered by The Sound of Music. A friend who’s also a Rodgers & Hammerstein fan sent me a beautiful book about The Sound of Music featuring information about the history of the show and the story of the von Trapp family.
“Climb Ev’ry Mountain” is one of the most important songs in the show: It ties together a spiritual message about courage with the story of the von Trapps’ escape from Nazi Germany.
Only there’s a catch. The book I read reported that the real von Trapps were very amused when they saw their Broadway counterparts with their climbing gear: There’s no mountain between Salzburg (their home city) and Switzerland.
But the song wouldn’t have worked if it had been rewritten as “Cross Ev’ry Highway.”
Call it poetic license. Sometimes you’re allowed to fudge details in order to enhance the story you’re telling. In fact you can get hopelessly mired in writer’s block if you try to get every picky detail right in something you’re writing.
Postmoderns say that words – any kind of art, really – inevitably distort reality. There’s always a selection process. The simple act of taking a step forward or back when you’re taking a picture shows how much we control what we think is objective reality.
Back to “Do Re Mi”: It’s a wonderful song. So what if I don’t like the educational philosophy behind it?
(One thing, though: If you’re planning to produce a Broadway musical show, please don’t write a song about adverbial conjunctions!)
