What is a syllable?
A unit of sound that forms a word or a part of a word.
Breaking Down the Building Blocks of Language: Syllables
At the heart of every word lies its constituent parts: the syllables. A syllable may seem like a small, isolated unit of sound, but it is the very building block upon which language is constructed. Each syllable contains a vowel sound, which can be accompanied by consonants or other sounds that surround it, and when put together with other syllables, they create words and the music of language.
An understanding of syllables is critical for a writer, not only in terms of properly pronouncing words, but also in terms of creating rhythm and flow. By breaking words down into their syllables, a writer can better understand how to place emphasis on certain sounds, control pacing, and create a specific tone. Additionally, a writer can use a knowledge of etymology to trace the origin of a word's syllables, which can provide insight into its meaning and usage in context.
When it comes to grammar and the English language as a whole, a syllable is often used as the basis for understanding phonetics and pronunciation. By understanding and mastering syllable patterns, one can unlock the ability to spell and pronounce words correctly, and also to better understand the conventions and intricacies of grammar. For example, syllables play a key role in the formation of compound words, contractions, and derivational patterns.
Poe's famous poem, The Raven, is a masterclass in the use of rhythm and sound to create an eerie, unsettling tone. Throughout the poem, Poe uses a recurring pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables, also known as meter or scansion, to create a hypnotic rhythm that echoes the tapping of the titular bird:
Once u/pon a mi/dnight dre/a/ry, while I pon/dered, weak and wear/y,
O/ver ma/ny a quaint and cur/ious vol/ume of for/go/ten lore—
While I nodd/ed, near/ly nap/ping, sud/den/ly there came a tap/ping,
As of some one gen/tly rap/ping, rap/ping at my cham/ber door.
'Tis some vis/i/tor,' I mut/tered, 'tap/ping at my cham/ber door—
'On/ly this and noth/ing more.'
Dahl is known for his playful use of language, and in Matilda, he uses syllables to create comic effect. One example is when he describes the gluttonous character Bruce Bogtrotter's punishment for stealing cake from the evil Miss Trunchbull:
The cho/ris/sters sang a song a/bout how, they sus/pec/ted, Br/uce Bog/trot/ter’s ca/ke might be poi/so/ned. They sang this tune at the top of their voices as they filed up to the platform in pairs to get their slices. When all the pieces had been given out, Trunchbull fixed Bruce with a dark and terrible look and said, 'Eat!'
The effect of this one small syllable, spoken in the imperative, was so alarming that Bruce started visibly.
'That ca/ke,' boomed Trunchbull, picking up the plate and holding it out at arm’s length towards Bruce, 'weighs t/w/o pounds if it weighs an ounce. You will eat it, Bog/trot/ter, and you will fin/ish it — in the pre/sence of the entire school. And if you don’t,' Trunchbull added, leaning closer across the desk, 'you’ll be fed to the lions.'