It has been maintained that the human brain has a preference for binary oppositions, or polarities. If this is so, it will help explain the numerous pairs of related antonyms that are found: good, bad; hot, cold; high, low; right, wrong; dark, light; and so on. For finer discriminations, these terms can be put into more narrowly specified fields containing more than two terms taken together, but their most general use is in binary contrasts. Here, however, one term seems to represent the fundamental semantic category in question. In asking about size, one asks How big is it?; about weight, How heavy is it?; and about evaluation, How good is it? It is possible to ask how small, how light, or how bad something is, but such questions presuppose that the thing in mind has already been graded on the small side, on the light side, or on the bad side. Style
The capacity for conceptualization possessed and developed by languages is by no means the only purpose language serves. A person’s speech, supplemented by facial expression and gesture when speaker and hearer are mutually in sight, indicates and is intended to indicate a great deal more than factual information, inquiries, and requests. Similarly, sign languages incorporate facial expressions and body language to add meaning and nuance. The fact that some of these other functions are performed by parts of a language usually mastered later by foreign learners gives rise to misinterpretation and often makes foreign speakers appear rude or insensitive when they are, in actuality, simply deploying fewer resources in the language.
Within the range of the structural and lexical possibilities of a language, speakers (or senders) are able to convey their emotional attitudes and feelings toward the person or persons they are addressing (receivers) and toward the subject matter of what they are saying (sending). They are also able to conceal such feelings as one form of linguistic deception, though this is usually a harder task. These same resources are also exploited to arouse appropriate feelings and responses in others, again independently of any factual content. This is the chosen field of the propagandist, the preacher, the orator, the barrister (lawyer), and the advertiser. Spoken languages make use of intonation and voice qualities in these different ways; a person can produce and recognize the intonation and type of voice employed in coaxing, in pleading, in browbeating, in threatening, in pleasure, and in anger, as well as those appropriate for matter-of-fact statements and the exposition of details about which the speaker has little or no emotional involvement.
To describe exactly which phonetic features are brought into play is quite another matter, involving advanced competence in phonetic discrimination and analysis. Grammar and vocabulary are equally involved, though differently in each language. English speakers know the difference between Come and give me a hand! and Could you possibly come and help me?; He’s got the gift of gab and He is undoubtedly a fluent and persuasive speaker are each appropriate for different occasions. By greetings and leave-takings a great deal of intended interpretation of the social relations between individuals can be expressed. Much of this is the “good manners” taught to children and expected of adults; these aspects of language behaviour vary from culture to culture and group to group, but in none are they wholly absent. It is, of course, equally possible to be deliberately bad mannered or deliberately to flout a linguistic convention or expectation, but this can be done only by knowing what is expected in the situation. The refinements of rudeness, like the refinements of politeness, insofar as the use of language is involved, require a very good knowledge of a language. Equal levels of sophistication are behind the process known as code-switching, wherein individuals move between different linguistic codes depending on the social contexts in which they find themselves.
Written language is no less adapted to conveying more than just factual information, asking factual questions, and giving instructions. Intonation and tone of voice are not easily reproducible in orthographic systems, but part of the skill of novelists or reporters is to convey these features of speech in their descriptions. Additionally, as the examples above show, grammatical and lexical choices are available to the writer, and anyone who has written anything to someone else knows the challenges of making words achieve precisely the purpose for which they are intended.
These variations within a language or within any dialect of a language, may be referred to as styles. Each time people communicate, they do so in one or another style, deliberately chosen with the sort of considerations in mind that have just been mentioned, even though in speech the choice may often be routine. Sometimes style, especially in literature, is contrasted with plain everyday language. In using such plain unmarked types of language, however, one is no less choosing a particular style, even though it is the most commonly used one and the most neutral in that it conveys and arouses the least emotional involvement or personal feelings.
Stylistic differences are available to all mature native speakers or users and in literate communities to all writers, as well as to foreigners who know a second language very well. But there is undoubtedly a considerable range of skills in exploiting all the resources of a language, and communities have always recognized and usually respected certain individuals as preeminently skilled in particular styles, as orators, storytellers, preachers, poets, scribes, belletrists, and so forth. This is the material of literature and, in societies without writing, oral literature.
In all languages, certain forms of expression have been considered worthy of preservation, study, and cultivation. In writing, the nature of written surfaces makes this fairly easy, though not all written material is deliberately preserved; much of it is deliberately destroyed, and, although the chance survival of inscriptions on stone or clay is of the greatest value to the archaeologist and historian, a good deal of such material was never intended to survive. Literature, on the other hand, is essentially regarded as of permanent worth. Printing and, in earlier days, the copying of manuscripts are the means of preserving written literature. In communities without writing, certain persons memorize narratives, poems, songs, prayers, ritual texts, and the like, and these are passed on, with new creations in such styles, to succeeding generations. Such skills, preservative as well as creative, are likely to be lost along with much of the surrounding culture under the impact of literacy. Here, modern recording technology has come to the rescue, and many workers in the field of unwritten languages are preserving specimens of oral literatures with transcriptions and translations while speakers having the requisite knowledge and skills are still available. A great amount of such material, however, must have been irretrievably lost from cultures without writing before the 20th century.
All languages have a literature, but different types of literature flourish in different languages and in different cultures. A warrior caste or a general respect for martial prowess fosters heroic verse or prose tales; urban yearnings for the supposed joys of country life encourage the development of pastoral poetry, itself an outgrowth of the songs of shepherds and rural workers; and the same sense of the jadedness of city life is the best ground for the cultivation of satirical verse and prose, a form of literature probably confined largely to urban civilizations. Every language has the resources to meet these and other cultural requirements in its literature as the occasions arise, but some literary forms are more deeply involved in the structure of the language itself; this is made clear by the relative difficulty of translating certain types of literature and literary styles from one language to another. Poetry, in particular, is closely bound to the structure of the language in which it is composed, and poetry is notoriously difficult to translate from one language into another.