Cyranomising — When Language Is More Powerful Than Beauty

Well, this word — which doesn't quite exist yet — points to a very large nose. 
And an excellent mind, and a deep understanding of language. 

The French poetic language, at least. 

In the garden, it was enormously difficult for the man named Cyrano to find a tree large enough to hide both himself and, above all, his nose. 
Cyrano was on a secret yet deeply romantic mission — standing in the garden of his beloved cousin Roxane, who leaned on her balcony listening to poetic whispers drifting up from the dark below. 
But Cyrano was keenly aware of two things: first, his profound love for Roxane, and second, his oversized nose, which he considered hopelessly unattractive. 
Had he only recognized the truth, his nose problem would have faded entirely into the background. 
Because his real gift was something far greater: the ability to use the rhetorical and intelligent subtleties of language to manipulate, inspire, and fascinate people.

What? Cyrano is a fictional character? 

Yes, yes, I know. 
And yet the story remains compelling and instructive. 

After all, this clever fictional soul named Cyrano put forward a spectacularly handsome man — physically irresistible, you might say — as a potential suitor in order to win Roxane's heart. 

His given name was Christian. 
Oh? Indeed. 

But this Christian had exactly one thing going for him: his finely chiselled features and impressively muscular physique were breathtaking. 
Until he opened his mouth. 
Then the ghost of spell was immediately stuffed back into the bottle.

The word "cyranomising" must mean something significant. 
Otherwise the fictional character of Cyrano — created by Edmond Rostand in his play of the same name in 1897 — would hardly have managed to become relevant and noteworthy to the world of language. 

What makes this fictional nose better than so many real, living human beings?

He commands the power of language like almost no one else. 
The play demonstrates the talent of language to seduce efficiently, to deceive cleverly, and in doing so to awaken profound emotions. 

Cyrano embodies the dilemma between outward appearances and inner truth — namely, his love for his cousin Roxane. 
And yes, his nose-led conviction that he is fundamentally unattractive doesn't exactly help the romance either. 
But his advantage is precisely his language, deployed with confidence and skill. 
Even if it happens to be French. 

Beyond that outsized nose, Cyrano possesses above all a sharp tongue with a remarkable talent for wordplay and poetry. 

He communicates with mastery and eloquence, surprising everyone with his verbal wit. 
In literary circles he is described as someone who commanded brilliant and rapid dialogue, and in doing so genuinely enriched the French language.

Hold on a second — we're still talking about the fictional character Cyrano de Bergerac, aren't we?

I had the sudden impression that we were discussing a historically real human personality. 

In that case, hats off to Edmond Rostand, the creator of the language master Cyrano de Bergerac. 

I find myself picturing Monsieur Rostand nearly one hundred and thirty years ago, hunched over his manuscript. 
Rewriting dialogue in a cold sweat. 
Crossing things out. 
Adding things back in. 
All so that the language might grow to full bloom at a refreshing height. 

Sorry, Cyrano — you're not the talented one here. 
You're merely an interpreter, a speaker. 
A straightforward fictional character. 
Created, yes, much like Pinocchio.

Conclusion: Always pay attention to the language. So many slightly hidden, sometimes surprising, occasionally devious, encouraging, and brilliantly intelligent moments are tucked away there — well worth discovering.