Today found me with a pair of headphones clamped almost permanently to
my ears. I’ve been transcribing interviews with people from the White City
Estate, and the process is driving me insane. It requires so much
concentration. When dealing with personal memories, it’s important for me to
transcribe what’s been said absolutely
verbatim; with every nuance, repeated phrase, grammatical error, or badly-chosen
word. Most transcribers will tidy up as they go along, or paraphrase so that a
sentence appears to make better sense, but for me, the poetry is in the
quirkiness of the language. One of the people I was transcribing today has a
habit of repeating key phrases... sometimes as many as three times – peppered throughout
everything else he’s saying. This obviously has wonderful musical potential, as,
frankly, do all the stutters, and even the “ums” and “ahs” and non-sequiturs. I
personally love a sentence that just ends without any form of conclusion. It’s
something I do all the time. I tend to assume people will join up the dots and
know instinctively which words I’ve opted to omit. Sometimes I feel a sentence
just outstays its welcome. You get other people who seem to keep saying words until
the sentence they’re saying fulfils some kind of crazy internal rhythm. I often
think we’re more aware of the shape and rhythm of the sentences we’re saying
than we are the words we’re actually using.
I went out this evening to see Nathan’s show, Mile High, and promptly
left the hat Nathan knitted for me on the tube. I was absolutely gutted. I got
involved in some kind of major claustrophobic crush on the Victoria Line at Euston,
took the hat off, and, well who knows where these blessed things go.
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