The Power of Words

We’re all affected by words, whether we believe so or not. From the time we begin to understand the meaning behind words, they affect us emotionally. Some of us recognize this from an early age, while others have no idea the power their words have to affect someone’s life. Often, this is explored within the written text, through fantasy stories or big adventures or even a meandering discourse about the meaning of life. But reader or not, words affect us—they have power.

I learned this early in life myself, both as a reader and in the cruelty of my peers. We’ve all heard the phrase, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” It never made sense to me, because experience told me words caused pain that far outweighed the physical. To me, it’s a false belief many have internalized, and so don’t realize the damage their words can do to others—whether in writing or in person.

I’ve always felt things quite deeply, particularly when it related to those around me. Casual comments or thoughtless words from peers pierced me deep. Advice or warnings from concerned adults sometimes cut even deeper, silencing the budding of an idea or dream before it began to bloom—not out of malice or jealousy, but concern for my future and wellbeing.

All of this, from words.

One of my favorite stories growing up was Swan Lake. Though I never saw or (sadly) participated in the ballet as a child, I learned the story and music through retellings such as Barbie in Swan Lake and The Swan Princess. And the part that always struck me the most about the story is how much power words and vows have.

Brief synopsis: Odette is trapped in the form of a swan, cursed by the evil sorcerer Rothbart. Prince Siegfried, hunting in the forest, discovers her in her swan form and watches as she transforms into the Swan Queen. They talk and dance, forming a bond, and Siegfried insists Odette come to the ball his mother is throwing. She agrees, but Rothbart deceives them both—placing a spell upon his daughter Odile, he tricks Siegfried into thinking Odile is Odette, and Siegfried vows to the wrong girl, thus killing Odette. Throughout the original and the retellings, one thing is consistent—the words spoken by Siegfried, the vow to love only Odette that he gives to Odile, are what strike Odette down.

More than anything, this is a testament to the power of words and how they affect us. Only a few words spoken to the wrong girl in a vow seal Odette’s fate, despite Siegfried’s intentions. He intended the words for Odette and, believing he was dancing with her, said them to the Odile instead.

Intention doesn’t minimize or excuse the damage one’s words can cause.

Yes, we can begin to heal when we learn the intentions behind the words, but that doesn’t erase the scar. Though healed, there was once a wound, and that scar will always exist. It will always be a weak spot within ourselves, more easily affected by the words of others.

Many iterations of Swan Lake, retellings and productions alike, tend to favor a happy ending over the tragedy. Siegfried finds a way to defeat Rothbart, thus freeing Odette before she dies, and Odette forgives him. Though forgiveness is a powerful thing, the retellings now feel a little too . . . sanitized to me. It’s too neat, all tied up with a little bow. Perhaps that’s because they’re meant for children, but I feel they disregard the difficulty of overcoming a betrayal like Odette faced.

The original Swan Lake ended in tragedy. Siegfried vows to Odile, thus condemning Odette to the form of a swan forever. Unable to bear that life, she chooses to die, and Siegfried chooses to die with her. Both drown in the lake. In another version, Rothbart reclaims his cursed swan, causing the lake to overflow its banks, drowning the prince. Not a happy ending, but I also think, in some ways, appropriate. Words can harm, and we can drown in them the same way we can drown in regret.

But the retellings’ hope and forgiveness isn’t entirely wrong, either, to me. I do think forgiveness is possible, even in a situation like Odette and Prince Siegfried’s. It’s just not as neat and tied in a bow as they’d have us believe. Betrayal can be overcome and forgiven, but it’s hard, soul-searching work. It’s hard to earn back lost trust.

These are the things that drew me to this story, the reason I had an idea for a retelling in the first place. And although that initial idea nugget has grown and morphed and become something better, it’s not quite refined yet. But it will get there. And one thing that’s coming through loud and clear? The power of words.