The Power of Smell: Why We Lack a Verb for Describing Pleasant Odours
In a world where our senses are often overlooked, smell is perhaps one of the most evocative and emotional experiences we can have. A single whiff of something that reminds us of our childhood or a fond memory can transport us back in time, evoke feelings of joy and nostalgia, and even bring tears to our eyes.
For Adrian Chiles, however, describing pleasant odours is a challenge that his native English language cannot quite meet. Unlike many other languages, which have distinct verbs for smelling good smells, English falls short. We are stuck with words like "stinks", "reeks" and "pongs", which only convey the negative aspects of an odour.
But what's fascinating is that our brains can be tricked into experiencing a pleasant smell even when we're not physically exposed to it. In a study, prisoners reported smelling scents like vanilla and lavender, even though they had lost their sense of smell 30 years ago. Other listeners shared similar experiences, remembering the distinct smells of cut grass, melting butter, or the canal in West Bromwich.
It's clear that our brains are wired to respond strongly to certain smells, which can evoke powerful memories and emotions. In Croatian, for example, there are two verbs - mirišiti and smrditi - that allow speakers to describe pleasant odours with precision. The former means "to smell pleasantly", while the latter implies a negative experience.
This raises an interesting question: why do we need separate words to describe pleasant smells? Doesn't our language have enough room for nuance and description? Chiles argues that English's lack of a verb for describing pleasant odours is a gap in its linguistic capabilities, one that frustrates him when he tries to put his experiences into words.
In the end, it's not just about finding the right word; it's about capturing the essence of an experience. The power of smell has a unique ability to evoke emotions and memories, transcending language barriers. As Chiles plans to visit Bache Brothers Cycles, a bike shop that still smells like his childhood, he's looking forward to experiencing the nostalgia and joy that only this particular scent can provide.
Perhaps it's time for English to borrow from other languages - or even create new words - to better describe the complex world of pleasant odours. Until then, we're left with words that only hint at the magic of smell: "it smells nice" may not be enough, but who knows what we might discover when we dare to explore this invisible realm?
In a world where our senses are often overlooked, smell is perhaps one of the most evocative and emotional experiences we can have. A single whiff of something that reminds us of our childhood or a fond memory can transport us back in time, evoke feelings of joy and nostalgia, and even bring tears to our eyes.
For Adrian Chiles, however, describing pleasant odours is a challenge that his native English language cannot quite meet. Unlike many other languages, which have distinct verbs for smelling good smells, English falls short. We are stuck with words like "stinks", "reeks" and "pongs", which only convey the negative aspects of an odour.
But what's fascinating is that our brains can be tricked into experiencing a pleasant smell even when we're not physically exposed to it. In a study, prisoners reported smelling scents like vanilla and lavender, even though they had lost their sense of smell 30 years ago. Other listeners shared similar experiences, remembering the distinct smells of cut grass, melting butter, or the canal in West Bromwich.
It's clear that our brains are wired to respond strongly to certain smells, which can evoke powerful memories and emotions. In Croatian, for example, there are two verbs - mirišiti and smrditi - that allow speakers to describe pleasant odours with precision. The former means "to smell pleasantly", while the latter implies a negative experience.
This raises an interesting question: why do we need separate words to describe pleasant smells? Doesn't our language have enough room for nuance and description? Chiles argues that English's lack of a verb for describing pleasant odours is a gap in its linguistic capabilities, one that frustrates him when he tries to put his experiences into words.
In the end, it's not just about finding the right word; it's about capturing the essence of an experience. The power of smell has a unique ability to evoke emotions and memories, transcending language barriers. As Chiles plans to visit Bache Brothers Cycles, a bike shop that still smells like his childhood, he's looking forward to experiencing the nostalgia and joy that only this particular scent can provide.
Perhaps it's time for English to borrow from other languages - or even create new words - to better describe the complex world of pleasant odours. Until then, we're left with words that only hint at the magic of smell: "it smells nice" may not be enough, but who knows what we might discover when we dare to explore this invisible realm?