THE DISCOURSE OF ARABIC ADVERTISING: PRELIMINARY
INVESTIGATIONS[1]
This article explores the discourse of commercial
consumer advertising in the written and visual media of
“An ad
is not a tangible or stable entity; it is the dynamic synthesis of many
components, and comes into being through them”.[2]
1. Introduction
The copywriter who is responsible
for commercial consumer advertisements must make a number of conscious
decisions to enhance the selling potential of a product: for
instance, the presentation of image; the most efficient use of time when
advertising through the spoken media, or space when advertising in the written
press; and, of course, the most effective use of language. Every individual is
a consumer at some point in his or her life, so it is no surprise that in a
competitive product market, advertising techniques are [2] often
fundamental to the success of a product. At the forefront of these techniques
is the “memorability” factor (Leech
1966:29). How many of us who were
exposed to British television advertising in the 1970’s,
for instance, can still recall the famous “Beanz Meanz
Heinz” endline (ibid.:59)[3]
for the “Heinz” Baked Beans
advertisement.
In addition to a general interest in the language and
techniques of commercial advertising,[4]
there were two principal reasons which inspired the present writer to examine
more closely the discourse of Arabic in commercial advertisements. Firstly,
some time ago I discovered a kitchen apron in a local store. Printed on this
apron was an advertisement in Arabic for a brand of corn oil containing the
following noun phrase:
zayt dhura ṣāfī. “pure corn oil”
Although the advertisement was in a
mainly “standard”
form of written Arabic, this particular phrase seemed to contain a
mixture of standard and dialect forms; in other words one would normally have
expected the word “pure” to
read ṣāf(in) in this
context.[5]
Secondly, during my teaching career I have
consistently found advertisements to be an effective teaching medium. Owing to
their conciseness, they often contain an abundance of recurring grammatical
structures which frequently trouble the learner of Arabic at all levels.
Examples of these are:
i) the tamyīz “specification” construction, used mainly as a comparative or superlative. It often
occurs in car advertisements, for instance, to emphasize that a make of car is “the most comfortable and the most luxurious”
(al-akthar rāḥatan wa l-akthar
fakhāmatan) of its kind.
ii) the iḍāfa ghayr ḥaqīqiyya “the unreal (or ‘adjectival’) iḍāfa”. This [3] structure is very common in Arabic advertisements,
often emphasizing the “quickness” of a product, such as sarīʿ al-dhawabān “dissolves quickly” (“Coast” dried
milk, U:19/10/94), or the “ease” of something, such as sahl al-ṣiyāna “easy to maintain” (“Miraco” air-conditioning machines, H:21/5/94) or sahl al-istiʿmāl “easy to use” (“Laysīd” lice-remover, H:30/4/94). According to Dyer (1982:150), adjectival compounds “give uniqueness, vigour and impact to the advertising message”.[6]
iii) the mā
. . . min structure. A class of students once responded very
enthusiastically to a translation of the famous Rothmans tobacco slogan written
on the side of an ashtray which was passed around the classroom:
ajwad mā yumkin
shirāʾuhu min tibgh
“the best tobacco money can buy”
The students’ level of interest was probably
increased by their familiarity with the original English version, but the
Arabic slogan served as an excellent model for the mā . . . min structure by creating its own “memorability” factor.
Advertisements are an important component of the
anthropological element in teaching the target culture.[7]
There are, of course, a number of tasks that a teacher can set students using
advertisements as a focus. For instance, video recordings of television
commercials function as a very useful form of “audio-motor units”, providing a role-play
stimulus for students. On the other hand, written advertisements
may be manipulated in various ways: for example, the teacher removes the
picture accompanying an advertisement and asks the students to guess the
product by reading the attendant caption. With
some assistance and practice this may lead to the students’ writing a short caption
for a picture, or even constructing their own advertisements.
More recently, I have begun to focus in the classroom
on the rich cultural aspects of advertisements.[8]
Language and culture are, of necessity, inextricably linked, and this nexus is
particularly apparent in the world of advertising. If one accepts Cook’s view (1993:1) that “discourse analysis
views language [4] and context holistically”, it is easy to appreciate the importance of assessing contextual
features, such as paralanguage and intertextuality, within the framework of
advertising. In Cook’s view, an analysis of
advertisements that concentrates exclusively on the use of language in
persuading the consumer to buy disregards their diversity and “the points of contact they have with other discourse types, such as
political propaganda, songs, poems, and jokes”
(1993:6). These “intertextual”
elements seem to play an important role in the world of advertising generally,
and we shall see later that Arabic advertising is no exception to this.
With the foregoing remarks in mind, one of the main
objectives of this paper will be to assess
the effectiveness of language use in a selection of Arabic commercial advertisements,
and its relationship to the situational context, by examining some of
these extra-linguistic elements outlined by Cook (1993:1–2).
2. Source material
My current research into Arabic advertising has so far
revealed many interesting features about the
Arab copywriter’s use of
discourse. This research has concentrated principally on Egyptian
advertisements from two main sources: the written medium of the press and
magazines, and television commercials. Although certain linguistic features and
phonological schemes, such as rhyme, are common to both these media, they also
offer different rewards for the linguist. Television commercials, in addition
to their unique paralinguistic features, also
contain a higher proportion of “block” or “disjunctive”
language (Leech 1963:256), owing in all probability to time restrictions. All television commercials used in
this study ran for a maximum of fifteen or thirty seconds.
Since these investigations have so far been only
preliminary, based on a corpus of approximately one hundred and fifty newspaper
and magazine advertisements and television commercials, material from countries
other than
3. Advertisements as “style”, “register” or “genre”
The language of advertising is “loaded”, so it is not
difficult to justify why one should study the discourse of advertisements.
Most people with an interest in advertising would agree that its language often
contrasts in style and grammar with conventional discursive usage. However, it
is important to stress that although the language of advertisements displays an
individual style in much the same way as other forms of “minimal texts” (Wallace 1987:29), which we
may call “environmental print”
(ibid.:24)—for instance, street signs or notices on
public transport—it should not be viewed as an aberrant
form of other varieties of the language (Leech 1963:257). It is true that the
dependence of advertisements on the use of “disjunctive” grammar, for example, as in newspaper headlines (ibid.:256), is one
of the distinguishing features of advertising style, but we would agree with
Leech (ibid.:257) that “since the characteristics of a
style are only meaningful by reference to the language to which it belongs, the
act of isolation should be accompanied by an act of synthesis”. In other words, it would be inappropriate to analyze the language
of advertisements as part of a separate grammar, although as a genre it does
display some unique characteristics.
In order to consider advertising as a genre, we should
consider its sociocultural aspects. Wallace (1987:30) assesses genres as “social events”. She concludes that the term
genre has more recently been extended to incorporate “the
whole range of culturally recognizable types of language activity”, which includes advertisements. Swales (1990:53) describes genres
as “communicative events which are socioculturally
recognizable”. This view reflects the more recent
emphasis in genre analysis on social purpose, which sets genre apart from the
notion of “register”. One may
correctly talk of advertising as a register, but according to many this
categorization fails to acknowledge the vital sociocultural components, of
which one of the most prominent is “culturally
recognizable language” (Wallace 1987:32), that is,
language from which one can immediately identify a given text as an advertisement. This ability depends on our possessing
what are known as “schemas”.
3.1. “Schemas” and advertising
“Schemas”, or “schemata” as they are sometimes called
(ibid.:33), allow us to identify immediately the type of text we are dealing
with. In Widdowson’s view (1983:34), they are “cognitive constructs which allow for the organization [6]
of information in long-term memory”. Thus we are able
to relate the general (and specific) type of language used in a given
discourse, such as advertisements, to a general schematic framework. We can
relate this to the Arabic situation by saying that when we see the endline Dāz yaghsil akthar bayāḍan “Daz washes whiter” (for “Daz” washing powder), our schematic
knowledge confirms that we are dealing here with the language of advertising,
since in conventional discourse the comparative form should be linked to a
following noun phrase, which is absent here. In this particular example we may
ask: Daz washes whiter than what?
Of equal interest with regard to
schematic knowledge is the (sociocultural) aspect of behaviour in
the target culture. In other words, we should not just be able to identify and
interpret certain facts about the information conveyed in an advertising
discourse, but we should also “be aware of a range of different
attitudes to them, even if we do not personally share those attitudes” (Wallace 1987:37–38). As an example of this
we may cite the Egyptian television commercial for a brand of tea called al-ʿArūsa “(the) bride”,
in which there is neither a dialogue nor a voice-over presentation. The scene
is one of a young woman dressed in white representing purity, that is, of the
tea. Whereas in a Muslim culture the impact of a bride dressed in white
connotes absolute purity, this connotation has been partially lost in many
Western cultures as a result of contemporary social values. In this commercial,
the following caption which finally unfolds on the screen lends further credence to the view that the meanings we
derive from texts are “largely socially
determined” (ibid.:38):
yaṣil ilā ḥaythu
lā yaṣil ayy shāy ākhar
“it reaches the parts other teas cannot reach”
By elevating the quality of this brand of tea above
all other brands, one is left in little doubt about the importance of tea in (in
this case) Egyptian society. Of equal interest to the present writer, however,
is that the copywriter appears to have borrowed a slogan which is used in
British advertising to promote a well-known brand of alcoholic lager beer,
although one would not expect the Egyptian viewer to make this connection.[9]
The success of this slogan in promoting the
brand of lager beer in
The advertising technique employed in this example
leads us to think immediately of the concept of intertextuality which was
introduced earlier. Intertextuality has been described neatly as “texts [which] are recognised in terms
of their dependence on other relevant texts” (Hatim and Mason 1990:120). Essentially it amounts to “the
relationship between a text and the various languages or signifying practices
of a culture and its relation to those texts which articulate for it the
possibilities of that culture” (ibid.:131, quoting
Coward and Ellis). Therefore, one reason for the success of an advertisement or
commercial may well be the underlying relationship between its presentation and
a literary association familiar to the target audience.
In summary, the context of situation, that is, the
social situation in which a statement occurs, is a vital element in our
interpretation of the message of advertisements. The addressee must “draw on different levels of contextual knowledge to interpret them” (Wallace 1987:29). Indeed, advertisements are one of the most
prominent “culture-specific”
(ibid.:17) forms of discourse.[10]
But it is not only the situational context of a statement that determines its form, and the way it is interpreted, as Foucault
has shown.[11] The verbal context, that is, the position
of a given statement in relation to other statements which precede and follow
it, is also a fundamental consideration in this regard. In the words of
Fairclough (1992:47–48), “one
must take a step back to the discursive formation and the articulation of
discursive formations in orders of discourse to explicate the
context-text-meaning relationship”. This relationship will be borne
in mind in the next section of this paper which
deals with language levels and rhetorical categories in Arabic advertising.
4. Analysis of the
discourse of Arabic advertising
It is true that the success of an advertisement
depends, in no small part, on [8] the linguistic dexterity of the
copywriter. But the preceding discussion has attempted to show that there are a
number of interrelated discursive elements at play within every advertisement.
The above-mentioned relationship between the situational and verbal contexts
within Arabic advertising will play a significant role in the following
analysis. The first issue to be discussed in this section is code-switching, or
code-mixing.
4.1.
Code-switching/code-mixing
During the past decade or more, a substantial amount
of research has been carried out into code-switching in Arabic.[12]
Recent research in the field of sociolinguistics has often included the
category of code-mixing as a separate variety of switching within diglossic
languages, although this distinction has not been without controversy.
Holmes (1993:48–50) prefers the term “metaphorical switching” to code-mixing
because the latter may be interpreted as a sign of incompetence on the part of
the speaker. In Holmes’ view metaphorical switching
occurs, for instance, when a speaker wishes
to upgrade his or her level of speech to demonstrate a higher standard
of education or linguistic ability. In other words, this may apply to speech situations
in which “each of the codes represents a set of social
meanings” (ibid.:49). This interpretation seems to be particularly relevant to the Arabic advertising
situation, as we shall see shortly. Another concept worth considering
within the context of some of the examples
taken from Arabic advertising is that of “referentially-motivated”
switching (ibid.:45). This takes place because the speaker is striving for accuracy between the two languages, or levels, as the
case may be. On the evidence found in this study, the sudden switch to a
foreign expression, for instance, may be the most effective means of conveying
the connotative intent of a particular advertisement.
[9] Overall we prefer the term “code-mixing” (or metaphorical switching) for
the purposes of this study. It must be borne in mind, of course, that the
majority of examples entail a mixing of levels within the Arabic continuum, not
a switching of languages amongst, say, bilingual speakers. The contextual, and
perhaps socially, motivated reasons for mixing, however, lead us to prefer this
term over code-switching which, in Eid’s view
(1988:54), occurs at specific syntactic “focal points”. What follows is a categorisation of the wide range of mixed levels used
in Arabic advertising which have been
identified as part of this study.
4.1.1. General
patterns for code-mixing in advertisements.
There are a number of identifiable patterns of
language-level mixing in Arabic advertisements. Most of these occur in
television commercials, although a limited number have been found in written
advertisements. The categories are as follows:
i) Where Standard Arabic (SA) is used throughout
the advertisement, but the final slogan is delivered in either Egyptian
Colloquial Arabic (ECA), or a hybrid version of the two registers. This may
occur in either television or written media. This category applies particularly
to commercials advertising products of a scientific nature, as in the
commercial for “Filopur” water filters. In this television commercial a formal level
of Arabic is used to talk about the product, as the following excerpt
shows:
idhā raʾayta mā yulawwith al-miyāh taḥta mighar fa lan tashrab al-miyāh bidūn
fīlūbūr
“if you saw the pollution in water under a
microscope you would not drink water without Filopur”
A voice-over then gives
information about the product at the end of the commercial in a
mainly ECA register, but with the retention of a couple of SA features:
al-ān isṭuwāna
bi talatīn ginēh . . . tinaʾʾī suttumīt litr yaʿnī litr mayyit ish-shurb in-naqiyya bi khamas ʾurūsh
“a cylinder now costs thirty pounds . . . it purifies six
hundred litres, and you get a litre of pure drinking water for five piastres”
Whilst it is perhaps not surprising that scientific
advertisements are presented in the SA mode, we may note Dyer’s point (1982:146) that copywriters often favour the employment of
scientific-sounding terms because they are likely to impress the audience: an
example of this is “laboratory tests show”. The same could probably be said for Arabic advertisements, since [10]
the formality of SA enables the copywriter to create the same effect.[13]
The advantage of using mainly ECA, however, in the final voice-over is that it relates directly to what perhaps concerns people
most: cost and value for money.
The next example from this category perhaps reflects a
switch of registers for a different reason. In this commercial for Eva skin
cream, the main body copy is in SA (including the preservation of SA relative
pronouns, for instance), but the endline is delivered in ECA:
Voice-over: maʿa ʿāʾilati sbūtlis īvā
(SA) “with the family of Eva ‘Spotless’ (creams)”
Group of consumers: mā
fīsh mushkila (ECA) “there is
no problem”
One of the possible reasons for the switching of
registers here is that mā fīsh
mushkila has become one of the most popular expressions in ECA, perpetuated
perhaps by the large numbers of foreigners who learn the expression almost
before anything else.[14]
It is quite common for an Egyptian to say this expression in a light-hearted
fashion when confronted with a foreigner attempting to learn his or her
dialect. An additional effect is achieved in this advertisement because the
expression is said by a group of consumers, not by just one person.
Although examples of this type in written
advertisements are relatively few, the following endline for a product called “Zayt al-Ḥulba”, which aids milk
production in breast-feeding mothers, demonstrates that it may also occur in
press advertisements. After a brief description in SA of the benefits of this
product, the script changes to ECA:
balāsh tidawwarī
. . . wi qūmī raḍḍaʿī
“no need to look any further . . . go and breast feed” (H:30/4/94)
ii) Where the
emphasis is on SA but the advertisement is interspersed with ECA (written advertisements only). An example
of this is the advertisement for “Baby Admiral” diapers (Figure 1). Although the emphasis in the text is SA,
exemplified by the use of the SA passive forms tustakhdam [11] “it is used” and tubāʿ “it is sold”, there is significant usage of
ECA. The reader is apparently drawn into the
world of “baby reality” by the
use in the text of the colloquial word ḥufāḍāt
“diapers”, as opposed to
the possible, but admittedly unlikely, SA ḥifāẓāt.
(Wehr 1980:180). It could be argued that
after switching from the formal preamble on these diapers to an everyday
situation through colloquial usage, the copywriter capitalises by making a
further important comment in the same register:
maysarrabsh walā nuqṭit
mayya “(it) does not leak a drop of water”
This represents a rare occurrence of negation in the
colloquial form in written texts. Later in
this advertisement we also find the ECA maʿa bībī admīrāl tiwaffarī
. . . “with Baby Admiral you save . . . ”.[15]
iii) The opposite to (ii)
above (television commercials only), that is, where the main
register is ECA, but where a switch to SA occurs in order to give more
information about the product. A good illustration of this can be found in the
commercial for “Cuddlies” diapers (see
Appendix 1):
kudlīz biyitkawwin min
sabaʿ ṭabaqāt likay yuʾakkid
rāḥit wi gafāf ṭiflik
“Cuddlies have seven layers to ensure that your child remains
comfortable and dry”
The reinstatement of the qāf in ṭabaqāt
after it had been pronounced earlier as hamza, and the use of the conjunction likay, which would never occur in
ordinary vernacular speech, suggests an intentional raising of the level of
speech. In addition to these features, the copywriter has also selected the SA
vowelling for the verb yuʾakkid.
However, the voice-over reverts to ECA for the final part of the commercial. It
is quite conceivable in this instance, of course, that the use of ECA reflects
the intuitive choice of register by the native speaker as she introduces the
product. The switch to SA could easily be accounted for by the fact that the
presenter is now reading the more detailed elements of the body copy. In this
case one would expect an adherence to SA phonology and syntax.
A further example of this category can be found in a
different advertisement for “Eva” skin
cream in which the commentator, using exclusively SA, describes the positive
effect on the skin of proteins contained in the cream. In the body copy of the
commercial many of the relevant case-endings are preserved, as in, for example:
. . . li taghdhiyatihā wa
taṭriyatihā “in order to [12]
nourish it and keep it soft”.[16]
Having described the product in this manner the
commentator reverts to mainly ECA as he addresses the female consumer
directly:
istaʿmilīh
yōmiyyan . . .
“use it daily . . .
anbūba
kull(i) talat iyyām wa shūfī n-natīga
one tube every three days and see the results”
iv) Where the commercial is conducted in ECA,
including interviews with consumers, and the voice-overs are in ECA, but the
final piece of information about the product is given in SA. An example of this
can be found in the commercial for “Ariel”
washing powder, where the commentator adds the following:
iriyāl
al-mutawassiṭ fī thalāthat aḥgām mukhtalifa
“medium-sized Ariel comes in three
different sizes”[17]
Of particular interest in this example is that the
commentator has switched from the colloquial register to SA, and even maintains
the SA pronunciation for the numeral (three) which is very unusual in
commercials, as we shall see later. A likely explanation for this is that the
copywriter wishes to create “attention value” by the sudden change in the language level. Leech defines “attention value” as follows: “One way of provoking the consumer’s attention
and curiosity is to present him with something surprising and unexpected, and
this can be done as well by the unorthodox use of language as by any other
means . . . perhaps a ‘wrong spelling’, or a grammatical solecism” (1966:27).
(v) Where there is clear
evidence of some retention of iʿrāb (case-endings), a type of advertisement unique to
television commercials. This [13] may occur in at least three different
contexts:
(a) In a formal presentation of a product in which
the whole commercial is presented in SA, as in the one for “Taft” hairspray :
al-shamsu sāṭiʿ . . . ḥimāyatun
kāmila
“the sun is shining . . . complete protection (for your
hair)”
(b) Where the
language of the television commercial is strictly ECA but there are
occurrences of iʿrāb,
either for the purposes of rhythm or rhyme. An instance of the former occurs in
the commercial for “Snacky”
chocolate:
ḥittatun minnuh bi
khamastāshar ʾirsh(i) bass
“only fifteen piastres per bar”
An interesting example of rhyme
occurs in a television commercial for fūl mudammis beans:
anā kayyīf
fūl an’ I ain’t foolin’ . . .
“I’m a connoisseur of fūl, believe me . . .
anā kayyīf
fūl mish maʿʾūlin
I’m a connoisseur of unbelievable fūl”
The employment of tanwīn
in its proper grammatical context as part
of the qualifying adjective of the word fūl in the genitive/oblique case is remarkable here,
especially given the predominant use of ECA in the commercial.[18]
(c) See category (iii) above, that is, the
advertisement for Eva skin cream.
(vi) Where there is importation of foreign words
or phrases. Dyer (1982: 140) remarks that the
functionS of the language of advertisements is not restricted to that of
a sign system, but that it can be a sign in itself: in other words, some
advertisements rely more on the style of the language than the actual content.
Thus it could be argued that in the commercial for “Nestlé” yoghurt, for instance, the use of
English (admittedly in this case to create a rhyme) further underlines the “European” nature of the product:
zabādī
nestlēh bi ṭ-ṭaʿm il-lazīz . . . If
you please!!
“Nestlé
yoghurt with the delicious flavour . . . if you please”
The deployment of English in the fūl beans commercial mentioned above is significant because it
facilitates a play on the words fūl and
foolin’. At the [14]
same time, the use of Western language in this commercial underlines the
association with the name of the company which manufactures the product, Ḥadāʾiq
Kālīfūrniyā, lit: “
In addition to the preceding six categories there are
also two types of advertisement in which no mixing of registers occurs. These
are as follows:
(i) Where the
register is SA throughout (mainly press advertisements), particularly in what might be called “prestige” advertisements
(Leech 1966:81), such as those for banks, airlines, or cars.
(ii) Where ECA is used throughout the commercial,
including the final slogan which may appear
on the screen as a “super” (Leech 1966:60) in Arabic script. The following
advertisements are examples of this:
(a) a chocolate wafer bar called “Snacky” with the following endline:
Snākī
wākī wū . . . wayfir ḥatḥibbūh
“Snacky Wacky Woo . . . a wafer you’ll love”
(b) “Ariel”
washing powder with the following endline (and “super”):
naḍāfa tzaghlil “dazzling cleanliness”
An interesting illustration of the different phonemic
and orthographic representations of ECA and
SA may be found in an advertisement for “Omo” washing powder with the following endline and “super”:
shaṭartuh fī naẓaftuh
lit: “its cleverness is in its cleanliness”
The word for “cleanliness”, naẓāfa, is pronounced in the voice-over as naḍāfa, as in the previous
example,[19] in spite of its SA orthography
in the “super”. This presents a rather
unique problem which will be discussed later (see below, pp. 19–20).
[15] On the basis of these and similar
examples it appears that the choice of register is determined to a degree by
the type of product. A further illustration of this can be found in a
commercial for “Milkyland” milk which is
presented exclusively in ECA. The endline (as well as the “super”) reads:
asās li awlādik
. . . wa hummā biyikbarū
“a basis for your children . . . as they grow up”
All the commercials in this category are for
non-technical products which are used or consumed on a daily basis. The use of
the vernacular language is not surprising, therefore, since the promotional aim
would be to reach as wide an audience as possible. One may also observe how the
copywriter in example (ii: a) above has contrived a rhyming and rhythm pattern
to match the morphological pattern of the verb. This is particularly
appropriate because it creates a sound that would appeal to children at whom
the advertisement is presumably aimed.
4.1.2. The Case for
Educated Spoken Arabic (ESA)
The “Baby Admiral” advertisement and the “Cuddlies” commercial cited earlier (see also Appendix 1 and Figure 3) seem to
pose a new problem. In some cases, sections of television commercials appear to
be a direct representation of the written information on a product: for
instance, of what appears on its label, or a formal, verbal promotion of its
superiority, as in the television advertisement for “Qisma” shampoo (Appendix 2) which is based on a dialogue in ECA between
two women. At the request of the interested consumer, the lady who has tested
the product announces the following:
min
khilāl dirāsāt mustafīda istamarrit sanawāt ʿadīda tawaṣṣal khubarāʾ
it-tagmīl ilā shāmbū ʾisma
al-gadīd
“as a result of studies lasting a number of years beautification
experts have produced the new shampoo from ‘Qisma’”
In general this piece of discourse
is devoid of any colloquial syntactic features, although it displays
some ECA phonological traits such as the ECA “i” suffix vowel in istamarrit,
and the “i” vowel of the
definite article. However, it contains an example of word order which
undoubtedly belongs to SA, that is, the verb in the singular preceding its
(plural) subject: tawaṣṣal
khubarāʾ it-tagmīl . . . ; and in
the choice of vocabulary it suggests an elevated form of spoken Arabic. Also
worthy of note in this connection is that later in the commercial the same
speaker says the following:
yagʿal ish-shaʿr dhū barīq “makes the hair shine”
[16] There is clearly an attempt here
to continue the description of the product in a more formal Arabic. The result,
however, is an interesting one. The use of the “possessive”
dhū in the rafʿ case is
incorrect here according to the rules of SA, which would require it to be in
the naṣb case, namely, dhā. Given that the dhāl phoneme is pronounced as a dhāl, we may assume that a SA
rendition was intended. However, if the word had been pronounced zū according to ECA phonology—and it should be noted that this word would only be used by educated
speakers in any case—then the grammatical case of the
word would have been unimportant. This suggests that the conflict of registers
in the mind of the copywriter has produced a hybrid, and in this case,
incorrect, form.
The language of the “Baby Admiral” advertisement is similar to that of an audio presentation of the
type that would appear in television commercials; the “block” language used here is evidence of this. However, an even more significant
point is that these two advertisements display features of both ECA and SA that
suggest, or reflect, the existence of a hybrid form of language which is
certainly not unique to the advertising situation: that of an Educated Spoken
Arabic (ESA).[20]
In Mitchell’s view (1986:11), “educated Arabic conversation constantly oscillates between written
and written-vernacular hybridization within the scope of a sentence, phrase, or
even word”. He adds that “ESA
is not to be seen as one of a series of separate varieties . . . but
rather as created and maintained by the constant interplay of written and
vernacular Arabic”. The argument for the existence of
an ESA in a written advertisement can only be valid, of course, if we agree
that its language constitutes an accurate, written record of what could
theoretically be a spoken scenario. Consider the following example from the
Baby Admiral advertisement:
al-ʿālam kulluhu
yattajihu ilā l-quṭn
“the whole world is turning to cotton”
This example represents SA in that
the vocabulary does not display any colloquial features, but the
syntax could conceivably belong to ECA, particularly through the use of the
emphatic kull. In other words, it
could be [17] read as al-ʿālam kulluh yattagih
. . . Moreover, even the examples tiwaffarī
and maysarrabsh noted above would
seem to fit the category of ESA, since neither displays the widely-used
Egyptian colloquial non-past proclitic bi-.[21]
Further evidence to support this argument can be found in Badawi (1973). According to his classification, the language of
this advertisement would probably
represent the colloquial language of the highly educated person, ʿāmmiyyat
al-muthaqqafīn. In Badawi’s view, this register represents “the spoken counterpart of the written fuṣḥā al-ʿaṣr” (Hinds/Badawi
1986:ix), which is particularly relevant to our argument here.
Another example that conforms to the theory of ESA
being proposed here occurs in a commercial
for “Kodak Gold” camera films. After a song in ECA, the voice-over
presents the following:
film kūdāk
gūld yuʿṭīka arwaʿ alwān al-ʿālam . . . ṣawwar bi aflām kūdāk
gūld fa in kānit ḥilwa tibʾā
kūdāk
“Kodak Gold film gives you the most
wonderful colours in the world. Take pictures with
Kodak Gold and, if they turn out well, they must be Kodak”.
Although a switching of codes from SA to ECA would
seem to occur at the beginning of the sentence fa in kānit . . . , the presence of the fatḥa as the stem vowel in ṣawwar (as opposed to the SA ṣawwir) suggests a vernacular
infiltration at an earlier point.[22]
The choice of the verb yuʿṭī in
preference to the ECA yiddī, and
the elative arwaʿ as opposed to aḥlā or agmal,
for example, gives a formal credence
to the nature of the product. The overall impression, therefore, is one of an
admixture of ECA and SA which could be indicative of an ESA.
The following summary outlines some of the main
patterns and categories identified in the foregoing discussion on language
levels and code-mixing. In general it was found that:
(i) In
television commercials
(a) ECA is favoured for dialogue between consumers, as
one might expect. [18]
(b) SA, including SA
phonology and syntax, is preferred for narrative advertisements of a
scientific nature.
(c) ECA is often
employed in voice-overs, particularly, although not exclusively, for
everyday consumables or domestic products used in the home, such as washing
powders. ECA is also used in “family” and domestic situations, particularly in advertisements for
children’s products.
(d) SA (or ESA) often occurs
during the course of a commercial, whether in a
voice-over or as part of a scene involving consumers, to give key factual
information about the product, either as though it were being read from the label
or as a direct account of how the product was produced.
(ii) In
written advertisements
(a) some of the patterns
identified above also apply to written advertisements. The use of the
vernacular in print is becoming more widespread,
and it is often employed to create the same connotative effect as in television
commercials.
(b) SA is, however, still the exclusive register of “prestige” advertisements.
4.1.3. Phonological “mixing”
Egyptian colloquial Arabic displays a number of phonological
differences from SA which are sometimes represented in advertising language,
particularly on television. We have already seen that the jīm, for example, is always pronounced as gīm, even when the register is SA. The graphemic
representation of this consonant, however, presents no problem. It remains the
same according to either pronunciation. The same level of simplicity does not
obtain with some of the other consonants
which require a different colloquial pronunciation.
The consonant qāf
retains its SA spelling in “supers” in
television commercials even when it is pronounced as a hamza. The word qirsh “piastre”, for
instance, is usually pronounced according to the ECA phonological
scheme, that is, ʾirsh, although it appears in the “super” as qirsh. Another example of this can be found in the “Rabso” washing powder commercial with the
following endline:
il-masḥūq
(pronounced masḥūʾ) il-mutamakkin
“the capable washing powder”.
Other consonants pronounced differently in SA and ECA,
however, may appear according to either scheme. In a commercial for Ariel
washing powder the ẓāʾ of the word naẓāfa “cleanliness”
appears on the screen as a ḍād
[19] in
accordance with the ECA pronunciation of that word (naḍāfa). However, in a commercial for “Persil” washing powder the SA caption qimmat al-naẓāfa “the ultimate in cleanliness” appears as a “super” but is read according to the ECA
scheme, possibly because the whole commercial is presented in that register.
Whilst this might not present a problem for the Egyptian consumer, it does
underline the dilemma facing the copywriter.
One of the best illustrations of this phenomenon I
have encountered so far occurs in a commercial for “Anchor Cheese” with the following endline
(and “super”):
kull(i) ghidhā l-laban aṭ-ṭabīʿī “all the nourishment of natural milk”
Of particular interest here is that the commentator
pronounces the word for “nourishment”
as gh’zā, thereby
intending an ECA representation. However, the consonant dhāl—which often becomes zayn in
ECA—is retained in the spelling, but the hamza of the SA word, viz., ghidhāʾ, is omitted. What appears on the screen,
therefore, is a hybrid version which is neither a correct orthographic version
of the SA word, nor a true phonemic representation of its ECA variant.
4.1.4. Lexical “mixing”
To date I have found very little evidence of
code-mixing at the level of individual lexemes. However, the examples I have
located so far are of some interest.
First, with regard to the adverbial “only” there is a propensity in television
advertisements delivered in ECA for the use of bass, as in the commercial for “Snacky” chocolate wafers, for instance:
khamastāshar ʾirsh(i) bass “only fifteen piastres”
However, the more standard faqaṭ also occurs in advertisements presented in pure ECA,
such as the one for “Snack”
chocolate bars:
khamsa wi ʿishrīn ʾirsh(i) faqaṭ “only
twenty-five piastres”
These two examples appeared
consecutively during one commercial slot, and it is
interesting that a different adverb should have been used in each, although two
very similar products were being advertised in almost identical language. A
possible explanation for the use of the more formal faqaṭ is that it actually appears on the screen with the
number, whereas bass does not,
although we have already seen that ECA now appears regularly in script on the television screen and in the written media. It
was pointed out earlier, however, that the inclusion of a more formal
word during a commercial in [20] ECA may
increase the “attention value”.
A close scrutiny of a television advertisement for “Bic” pens also suggests an intentional employment of a SA word in the
course of a “catchy” song about the product in ECA. On
this occasion the copywriter has selected the word rafīʿ “fine” to describe the nib of the pen because
the context requires a word to rhyme with mawāḍīʿ “subjects”. In accordance with the register of the commercial, one would have
expected the ECA variant rufayyaʿ, which is in fact used a few seconds later in contrast
to tikhīn “thick” (also to describe the nib of the
pen). Underlining this situation further, the following caption appears on the
screen: sinn rufayyaʿ . . . sinn
tikhīn “fine nib . . . (or) thick
nib”. Of course, the word rufayyaʿ could also be read here as rafīʿ. It is only
through its juxtaposition with tikhīn
and the commentator’s voice-over, therefore, that we know ECA is intended.
The “conflict”
between ECA and SA is perhaps best represented in the television advertisement for “Philips” washing machines. The
female presenter talks about the product
exclusively in an ECA register, while various captions appear on the screen in
SA indicating many of the machine’s facilities. The SA ḍamān khamas sanawāt “guaranteed for five years” appears on the screen, as the presenter simultaneously says
ḍamān khamas sinīn.
In ECA, sinīn is the more common
plural for
5. Idioms
During the course of this study it has been observed
that idioms always occur in the vernacular form in all types of advertisements.
It is worth examining briefly the effect achieved by this choice of register.
In advertisements, idioms probably occur in ECA in
order to establish familiarity with the consumer. A useful example of this can
be found in a commercial for “Philips”
washing machines in which the idiomatic caption shughl(i) ʿalā mayya bayḍā “honest
work” (Hinds/Badawi 1986:842) flashes intermittently on
the screen, and is repeated aloud by a cartoon character. The important point
about this choice is not only that it creates a marked contrast with the SA
register in which the commercial is presented, but also that the word mayya “water”, and, in particular, its qualifying adjective bayḍa “white”,
reflect the level of cleanliness which one can expect for one’s laundry when using this appliance. Moreover, the image of water is
especially appropriate for promoting an appliance of this type.
Advertisements of the written media are not the
exclusive domain of SA. As we saw previously, the copywriter will select a
colloquial expression where appropriate. In addition to the earlier examples,
we may consider the following two words which
make up an advertisement for a brand of tea [21] called “Gawhara”, and which would probably have an immediate effect on
Egyptian consumers:
ḥittit sukkara lit:
“one piece of sugar” (H:30/4/94)
By selecting the colloquial word ḥitta for “piece” in preference to, say, the SA equivalent qiṭʿa, the copywriter
immediately enters the daily world of the consumer. But the expression ḥittit sukkara has further
significance since it also bears the idiomatic meaning “how lovely”. On a cultural level the
expression is similarly loaded, because the average consumption of sugar in tea
is very high. This equation, therefore, suggests that tea in the Middle Eastern
culture is almost synonymous with sugar. From this brief, but subtle,
advertisement, the consumer may conclude that this brand of tea requires just
one piece of sugar to bring out the full flavour.
ECA may also be used in written
advertisements to create a rhyme,[23]
which again occasions an immediate impact on the consumer, especially when the
ECA element is idiomatic. An example of this may be found in an advertisement
for a brand of palm oil called “al-Nakhletein”, where the word nakhlatēn
“two palm trees” is
followed immediately by:
al-ḥubb fī
aklitēn “you’ll love it immediately” (H:30/4/94)
6. “Disjunctive” language
Leech maintains (1966:93) that disjunctive grammar (or “block language”) comprises minor and non-finite clauses which do not require a “finite predicator” (i.e., a verb). Perhaps
the most significant difference between these clauses in disjunctive and
discursive language is that in the latter they
are dependent, whereas in the former they function independently. Single
nominal groups of words or single adverbial groups may, according to Leech, be grammatically independent. He adds
that “either
of these groups may in turn consist of a single
word. In other words, there is no limit to the simplicity of a grammatical unit”.
The major difference between the English language
which Leech was describing and Arabic, of course, is that in the latter a verb
is not essential to form a grammatically complete sentence. Whilst a two part
sentence such as “for you this summer. . . a golden tan” is an independent minor clause in English,
the following example taken from a press advertisement for “Sparkle” shampoo is a not uncommon
illustration of a major independent clause in Arabic: [22]
ilayki shāmbū
sbārkil al-jadīd “for you . . . new Sparkle shampoo” (H 28/5/94)
Notwithstanding this important
difference between the two languages, there
is no doubt that disjunctive language is also a prominent feature of
Arabic advertising. More examples of this will be seen later in the section on
parallelism.
7. Rhetorical devices
Leech (1966:175) selects rhyme,
alliteration and parallelism as “special
patterns of regularity” in advertising language. This
section will examine the occurrence of a number of rhetorical devices in Arabic
advertising, in particular those of rhyme and rhythm. It seems especially
appropriate to discuss these “schemes”
(ibid.:186)[24] with regard to Arabic, since the
language boasts such a rich tradition of oratory dating
back to pre-Islamic times. As we shall see shortly, Arab advertising
copywriters often use to full advantage the strict morphological forms of words
in their language.
7.1 Parallelism
Parallelisms, or “formal schemes” (ibid.:190), appear to be as much a characteristic of Arabic
advertising as they are of English. In Leech’s view
(ibid.:146), parallelism is one of the devices of “co-ordination
at group rank” level which he considers to be “an especially cohesional factor in advertising language”,[25] particularly in
disjunctive language situations where “the group tends
to be the largest unit to play a significant role in communication”. The main effect of this device would seem to be a reinforcement of
the qualities of a product in an almost mnemonic fashion through a repetition
of linguistic patterns.
There are many examples of parallelism to be found in
Arabic television commercials and press
advertisements. As in English, this device is normally assisted by
lay-out. Examples of parallelism in Arabic are exemplified by the following
phrases taken from the advertisement for “Sparkle”
shampoo:
li l-shaʿr al-duhnī “for oily hair”
li l-shaʿr al-jāff “for dry hair”
li l-shaʿr al-ʿādī “for normal hair”
[23] A
similar example was found in a press advertisement for “
iqtiṣādiyya ḥīna
tashtarīhā “economical when you
buy it”
iqtiṣādiyya ḥīna
tastakhdimuhā “economical when you use it”
iqtiṣādiyya ḥīna
tabīʿuhā “economical
when you sell it”
(O 24/2/95)
Parallelism may take a number of forms. Consider, for instance,
the following example taken from an advertisement for a hair removing appliance
called “Feminin”:
jawda lā tuqāran .
. . siʿr lā yunāfas
“incomparable quality . . . unbeatable price”
(H 30/4/94)
In this example, the parallel effect is created less
by repetition of a key attribute of the
product than by rhythm and parallelism of the two passive verbs and the
negative particle lā.
The following example of parallelism is taken from a
television commercial for “Milkyland”
yoghurt:
miyya fī l-miyya ḥaʾīʾī “one hundred percent real”
miyya fī l-miyya ṭabīʿī “one hundred percent natural”
miyya fī l-miyya ṭāzig “one
hundred percent fresh”
The placing of two adjectives in succession with
similar forms, (ḥaʾīʾī and ṭabīʿī), is
important for the continuity of rhythm and rhyme. Moreover, what can only be
appreciated from listening to the voice-over is the rhythmic effect created by
the precise staccato reading of each line.
The above examples are not only distinctive in their
formal parallelism, but also because they display a parataxis which is uncommon
in discursive Arabic. Parataxis in the advertising situation is not restricted
to nouns and adjectives, but can also be
found with verbs, as in this advertisement for “Lipton” tea:
yuṭḥan
. . . yuqṭaʿ . . . yulaff . . .
“(it is) ground . . . cut . . . wrapped
. . . “ (H 30/4/94)
7.2. Rhyme and rhythm
When assessing rhyme and rhythm in Arabic advertising,
two possible associations immediately come to
mind. First, the rhyming effect in many [24] advertisements
is created by a combination of long vowel plus consonant at the end of each line, or each half of a two part
slogan. This reminds us of some types of folk poetry, such as the
vernacular poetry of
kull al-taqdīr fī
jawdat al-taḥḍīr
“[your guests’] appreciation comes entirely
from the quality of preparation” (H 30/4/94)
Of particular interest here is not just the rhyme
created by the long “i” vowel
plus rāʾ in the final
syllables of taqdīr and taḥḍīr, but also the
assonance occasioned by the morphological symmetry of the verbal nouns. It was
noted above that Arabic lends itself well to this type of scheme.
A second technique used by the copywriters is based on
rhyming and rhythmic prose techniques (sajʿ) of the classical and
neo-classical periods. In advertising we find examples such as two
morphologically similar words occurring in close contiguity. An example of this
can be found in the following press advertisement for “Si-Si” shampoo:
min al-ʿināya li l-ḥimāya “from
care to protection” (H 30/4/94)
The example displays assonance and
rhyme based on the fiʿāla pattern, which is shared by many verbal
nouns of defective third consonant verbs.
Many examples of this kind can be found in both television
commercials and press advertisements. Here is the signature line for the
advertisement for “GMC” water
heaters:
takāmul al-ijāda
. . . aʿṭānā l-riyāda
“total excellence has made us pioneers” (ND
1/5/94)[26]
[25] Another interesting example is taken from the commercial for a brand of butter
called “Shahiyya”:
shahiyya zibda ṭāza
. . . miyya miyya
“Shahiyya is one hundred percent fresh butter
zibda shahiyya
. . . iz-zibda illī hiyya
Shahiyya butter is the real thing”
Worthy of note here is that had the word miyya been pronounced in its SA form,
namely, miʾa, it would not have
been possible to create a perfect rhyme with the SA feminine singular
free-standing pronoun hiya. However,
the ECA variant hiyya rhymes
perfectly with miyya. In this connection,
there are other occasions when the choice of ECA as the register for an
advertisement may well have been influenced by the ensuing rhyme. It is clear
that an effective rhyme can be an important promotional device for a product.
Consider, for instance, the following commercial for “Gawhara” tea:
shāy shāy
shāy . . . shūf ṭaʿmuh gamīl izzāy
“tea, tea, tea . . . see how wonderful it tastes”
An important aspect of this example is that very few
appropriate words in SA would rhyme with the word shāy, but the expression izzāy
provides the copywriter with a solution since it not only rhymes perfectly
with shāy, but it also fits
neatly here in its normal post-posed syntactic position.
Another popular rhyme scheme is based on the
adjectival form faʿīl (or
sometimes fiʿīl in ECA). For instance, the slogan (and “super”) for a commercial
for “Eva” skin cream tells the user that they can
experience the following:
iḥsās gamīl
baʿd(i)
yōm ṭawīl “a
beautiful feeling after a long day”
A further interesting example of this form occurs in
the commercial for “Rabso”
washing powder. The female presenter begins by introducing two male characters, one of whom has his clothes washed
in “Rabso”, and the other in an unmentioned
brand of washing powder. The latter is introduced as:
abū khalīl
. . . hammuh tiʾīl “Abū Khalīl . . . is very concerned”
It is quite conceivable that the character’s name, or even the notion of using such characters, was created around the expression hammuh tiʾīl, which immediately imposes a negative impression of
the “other” (unmentioned) brand of powder.
There are, of course, other morphological patterns
which are put to good [26] effect
by the copywriter. The promotional success of a press advertisement for “Uno” electrical equipment rests mainly on the following introductory
slogan:
al-ḍamān
al-shāmil wa l-amān al-kāmil
“total guarantee and complete safety” (H 28/5/94)
In this example, the participles (or adjectives) shāmil and kāmil are closely related in
meaning, as are the nouns ḍamān
and amān. But more than this, these two pairs of nouns and adjectives are both examples of jinās “paronomasia” in Arabic, or to be more
precise, jinās nāqiṣ “incomplete paronomasia”. These two pairs are
examples of jinās lafẓī,
in which the jinās components,
that is, ḍamān and amān, and shāmil and kāmil,
contain the same number of consonants, and identical vowels.[27] In fact, the nouns ḍamān and
amān occur in this way in a number
of advertisements for domestic appliances.
The category of
jinās lafẓī shares some characteristics with that of “pararhyme” identified by Leech (1969:89). In
his view, pararhyme is one of the six main syllable sound patterns in which the
initial and final consonants of two rhyming words are identical. In jinās lafẓī any two
consonants may be identical, so the following
example of pararhyme taken from the endline (and “super”) of the commercial for “Milkāna” cheese would also have been an
example of jinās lafẓī,
but for the difference in one vowel:
gibna milkāna
. . . bi ṭ-ṭāqa malyāna
“Milkāna cheese is full of energy”
The pararhyme in this example is
created by the words milkāna and malyāna.
It is interesting to note that rhyme and assonance is only possible here by
means of a change in word order. Although the inversion is not syntactically
incorrect, the resultant word order is less common and would normally only
occur for emphasis.
An example of a technique often used in sajʿ
literature, in which two partially synonymous and similar sounding nouns
are placed in close proximity, can be found in an advertisement for “Olympic Electric” ice-tanks:
khayr
rafīq wa ṣadīq li kulli afrād al-usra
“the best friend and companion for all members
of the family” (H 28/5/94)
[27] A further illustration of this appears in a magazine advertisement for “GAOOV” television and video equipment:
ammā l-ṣūra
fa hiya fī ghāyat al-naqāʾ wa l-ṣafāʾ
“the picture is of the utmost clarity” (M 5/12/94)
In most cases a product’s name is not
derived from an identifiable root in the
Arabic language. However, a copywriter’s ability to create rhyming schemes does not seem to be impaired by this fact. An example of
this is the brand of cheese called “Milkāna”
mentioned above. Consider also the following slogan from the
television commercial for “Laysīd” lice-remover, for example:
laysīd bi t-taʾkīd huwwa
l-mufīd “Laysīd for sure is the one to use” (H 28/5/94)
In this example the copywriter employs rhyme for
maximum mnemonic effect, selecting nouns and participles bearing the ending -īd. Another product with a name
that lends itself well to rhyme is a multi-purpose cleaning liquid called “Līzā”. There are two separate
commercials for this product with the following respective endlines:
līzā
. . . yikhallī kull(i) ḥāga lazīza
“Līzā . . . makes
everything really nice”
or:
līzā
. . . mufāgaʾātuh lazīza
“Līzā . . . it brings lovely surprises”
In cases such as these, is at least a part of the
slogan or signature line conceived of before the brand name? If the brand name
were always chosen before the slogan perhaps it would not be so easy for the
copywriter to create appropriate and effective rhymes to promote the product.[28]
There are also examples in which the sense of the
signature line, or endline, appears to have been directed by the copywriter’s efforts to create a rhyme scheme. One such instance is the
commercial for “Pert Plus”
shampoo, which takes the form of a dialogue in ECA between two young ladies.
Here is the endline for this advertisement: [28]
shāmbū pirt iṣ-ṣughayyar
. . . yāmā biyghayyar
“small size Pert shampoo . . . see how much it changes!”
The implication here, of course, is that using this brand
of shampoo changes one’s hair to make it attractive. As the
voice-over remarks earlier:
li sh-shaʿr ig-gazzāb
min ghēr ʿazāb
“for attractive hair without any hassle”
However, there is little doubt
that the meaning of the endline displays a vagueness which
would be unacceptable in non-advertising language.
In addition to the use of certain regular
morphological patterns in the language of advertisements, the copywriter makes
frequent use of specific types of grammatical structures to convey the
qualities of a product. One of these structures
is the tamyīz “specification” mentioned
earlier. Consider this cluster of such structures taken from the “GMC” ad for water heaters:
al-aqwā adāʾan
. . . al-akthar wafran
“the best performer . . . the most economical
al-awthaq ḍamānan
. . . al-aḍman amānan
the most reliable . . . the safest”
There are two points to be made here. First, the wide
range of adjectives in their superlative form is employed to create an effect
which would not have been possible without the use of the tamyīz construction. Second, and perhaps more significant, is
the metrical rhythm created by these structures.
Another grammatical structure which is used to good
effect in Arabic advertising is the iḍāfa ghayr ḥaqīqiyya “unreal iḍāfa” (also
mentioned earlier). A particularly good example of this
comes from a magazine advertisement for the “Saudi British Bank”. Two-thirds of the one-page
advertisement is given over to a large picture of an imposing modern building belonging to that company. Above the picture is
written in large, boldface type:
saʿūdī
l-intimāʾ “of Saudi origin”
and below it:
wa ʿālamī
l-adāʾ
“and carries out its business world-wide” (M 5/11/94)
The contiguity of these two structures creates a rhyming
effect based on the final -āʾ of the verbal nouns intimāʾ
and adāʾ, and highlights the national (and therefore Arab) origin of the company on the
one hand and its enormous [29] international
importance on the other.[29]
7.3. Alliteration
In its strictest sense alliteration only occurs where
there is repetition of the initial consonant or consonant cluster, as in this
example taken from Leech (1966:187): “Built Better by Burco for you”.
Leech observes, however (1969:92), that it is “the main stressed
syllable of a word which generally carries the alliteration, not necessarily
its initial syllable”. Only one example of conventional
alliteration was found in the material used for this preliminary study, a
disappointingly low number compared to, say, English advertising where
alliteration is a common device. The following example is from the endline for
the television commercial for “Snack” chocolate wafers:
snāk . . .
il-wayfir ish-shaʾiyya ish-shahiyya min kādbirī
“Snack . . . the naughty, tasty wafer from Cadbury”
The alliteration here is created
by the initial sh- phonemes of the
words shaʾiyya and shahiyya. Leech (ibid.:92) calls this an
example of “reverse rhyme”, in which words
share an initial vowel sound in addition to the sound of the initial consonant
or consonant cluster.[30]
8. Syntax
There are many aspects of syntax in the language of
advertising that merit a detailed study. This discussion will be restricted to
a few key areas that illustrate an unorthodox use of language, but which also
show that apparent anomalies within the syntax can often be attributed to a
deliberate choice of one linguistic register in preference to another.
8.1. Elatives
(comparatives and superlatives)
As one might expect, the use of the superlative is
extremely common in advertising language. Some examples of this have already
been given (above p.2), so this category need not detain us here. Of more
interest within the elative category is the employment of the comparative.
[30] Given
the restrictions imposed on the copywriter when comparing his or her product to
similar ones,[31] it is not surprising that
comparatives in advertising are normally unqualified. We can say, therefore,
that their use is indeterminate. Leech
(1966:161) remarks that “comparative
adjectives are vague—almost, one might say, to the point
of meaninglessness—without a standard of comparison”. Geis (1982:90ff.), however, maintains that constructions
containing the unqualified comparative are “elliptical”. Several examples of indefinite comparatives were found in the
material used for this study.
Consider, for instance, the ambiguity in the following
endline taken from a television commercial for “Kodak” camera films:
maʿa kūdāk
anta aḥlā “you are more beautiful with Kodak”
Does one appear more beautiful in a picture developed
from “Kodak” films than from other similar brands,
or is one more beautiful in “Kodak” films than one is in reality? Of course, although the potential for
ambiguity is real, the sender would assume that only the former interpretation
would occur to the consumer. The “Daz” washing powder commercial mentioned earlier is similarly vague:
Dāz yaghsil akthar
bayāḍan “Daz washes whiter”
Does “Daz” wash
whiter than competing brands, or whiter than earlier products produced by the same manufacturer, or is it
considered to be more effective than washing clothes with plain water,
which might not be such an unlikely activity amongst poorer people in the
The following example is one of the best illustrations
of the cultural ambiguity that may accompany the use of the unqualified
comparative. In a press advertisement for the “Whopper” meat burger we find the following:
aṭyab liʾannahu
mashwī “more
delicious because it is grilled” (O 20/1/94)
This example raises a number of issues. First, we
cannot assume that the [31] copywriter’s intention is
the same as it might be in a similar advertisement in a more
cholesterol-conscious western culture, namely, that grilled meat is healthier
than, say, fried meat, although this cannot be ruled out. Second, does the advertisement suggest that the “Whopper”
burger is better than other burgers because it
is grilled? Or could it be that the status of the burger has been elevated here
to that of a more expensive meat, such as kabāb,
which is a favourite dish of people throughout the Arab-speaking world, and which is normally grilled?
8.2. The adverbial faqaṭ
It was suggested earlier (p. 20) that the distribution
of either the SA faqaṭ or ECA bass to render the adverb “only, just” is not necessarily determined,
in television commercials at least, by the register in which the advertisement
is presented. In press advertisements, no examples of bass were found, but several
occurrences of faqaṭ raised
a significant point of word order. According to El-Hassan (1977:125), “the word / faqaT / has no
invariable position in Classical Arabic”; in other words it may occur directly after the subject or following the predicate. El-Hassan does
not deal with its occurrence in the initial position in a sentence.
In the material used in this present study the
adverbial faqaṭ often occurred
in the initial position. Take the following, for instance:
faqaṭ akhshāb ṭabīʿiyya
“only natural wood” (H 28/5/95)
al-iqtiṣād
al-ḥaqīqī . . . faqaṭ min sayyāratika
tūyūtā
“real economy . . . only from your
faqaṭ
tūyūtā waḥdahā taḥtafiẓu bi
jawdatihā
“only
There are two plausible explanations for this
unconventional word order. El-Hassan (ibid.:124) quotes examples given by Blanc
in his speech survey of faqaṭ occurring
in initial position where one might have expected the colloquial bass. This
suggests that the position of faqaṭ
in the above examples could well have
been determined by the copywriter’s own style of
language, in particular by his own dialect. The other possible influence on the word order here, of course, is a western
language such as English, of which the last two examples at least could
be a direct translation.
In either case it is interesting that such examples
should occur in written Arabic, although one should not be surprised at the
adverbial faqaṭ appearing in sentence-initial position in the spoken
medium, as we have just [32] pointed out. But conversely it is
significant that faqaṭ occurs
more frequently in “sentence-final position”
(ibid.:125) in the spoken commercials which were used for
this study.
The evidence here supports the view expressed earlier
that there are a number of language levels at work in Arabic advertisements,
which not only reflect the culture-specific objectives of advertising as
represented at the connotative level, but also perhaps the conflict between
what is intended to be spoken and what is purely for reading purposes. More
than three decades ago Leech made the important observation (1966:60) that “the style of copy in television advertising is having some effect on
the composition of press copy”. This would certainly
seem to be the case in Arabic advertising in which there are so many possible
language levels on the continuum.
8.3. Conditional
clauses
The incidence of conditional clauses involving the main
conditional particles—in, idhā,
and law—was
surprisingly small in both television and press
advertisements. This contrasts with British advertising, where the occurrence of the conditional conjunctions “when”
(with the sense of “whenever”) and “if” is not
only common but also generally involves a special function (Leech ibid.:116).[33]
It is apparently a universal of advertising language that it contains a high
number of independent clauses, many of which are imperative clauses
(ibid.:120). Advertising copywriters prefer to use coordinated clauses rather
than dependent, or subordinate, ones. For this reason the following type of
sentence is very common in Arabic advertisements:
jarribī wa
iktashifī . . . “sample
and discover . . . ”
Of course, the underlying meaning here is conditional,
that is, “if you sample (a particular product) you will discover
(a unique taste, for instance)”. The following example, which also implies a
conditional element, is for “Sprite” cars:
inṭaliq wa tadhawwaq
mutʿat al-qiyāda
“set off and savour the enjoyment of driving”
(HAY 16/12/94)
The double imperative appears to be an important
device in advertising rhetoric, which the copywriter uses as a cohesive device
to reinforce the quality of a product.
[33] Another means of avoiding a
conditional clause in Arabic advertising is to use a nominal clause, as the
following example taken from a television commercial promoting a Post Office
savings scheme demonstrates:
it-tawfīr bi maktab
il-barīd “if you save with the Post Office
filūsak maḍmūna wi
tzīd your
money is guaranteed and grows”
The advantage of selecting a noun in the first line in
preference to a conditional particle and a
verb is that it creates a parallel effect with the word filūs, and maintains a rhythm to
complement the rhyme of the final syllables of each line.
The occurrence of conditional-type sentences with
conditional particles in Arabic advertising is not uncommon. In a previous
article, however, the present writer
suggested that the conventional rules pertaining to the use of
conditional particles are either frequently ignored in modern written Arabic
(Gully 1993: 48–50), or have become subject to a highly flexible
writer’s licence. There is further evidence to support
this view in the language of advertising, particularly with regard to the
particles aynamā and mahmā.
8.4.1. aynamā “wherever”
According to the conventional
rules of grammar, conditional particles should be
followed by a verb in either the past tense or the jussive mood. However,
during the course of this study a number of examples were found which
contravene this rule.
The particle aynamā
“wherever” is probably the most common conditional particle in advertisements. It is often used in contexts
which demonstrate that the consumer can enjoy a product “wherever” he or she happens to be. Although
examples were found in which the particle was followed by a verb in the past
tense, for instance, aynamā kunta “wherever you are”, it is more common for it
to be followed by a non-past tense of the verb “to be”, which in itself is a more recent development of SA. In this
example taken from a commercial for “Vitrac” jam, there is a similar “violation” of the conventional rule that in conditional sentences, a result
clause which commences with an imperative verb should begin with the particle fa:
aynamā takūn
tamattaʿ bi vītrāk
“wherever you are, [you can] enjoy Vitrac”
On the other hand, if the intended
register of this line is ECA then the syntax is not unusual. The same obtains
for the following press advertisement for “Lipton” tea
which contains only the following caption:
shāy libtūn
. . . al-awwal aynamā takūn [34]
“Lipton tea . . . the first wherever you are” (H
30/4/94)
In this example it is clear that the present tense of
the verb, takūn, has been chosen to create a rhyme with the brand name
Libtūn, but the reader is still
unable to ascertain with certainty the intended register of this short
advertisement.
8.4.2. mahmā
A similar situation exists with
the conditional particle mahmā.
The following example is taken from a
commercial for “Fairy” washing-up liquid:
mahmā d-duhūn
taqwā “however resistant the grease,
fērī ʿalayhā
aqwā Fairy is (always) stronger”
In this commercial the main text is in ECA. For the
endline above, however, the copywriter appears to have selected a hybrid form
of ECA syntax with SA morphology and phonology. As a rule, the occurrence of
the verb in the first line after its subject would be unacceptable in SA in
clauses containing the conditional particle mahmā.
Additionally, the conventional rules of SA require the verb following the
particle to be in either the past tense or jussive mood. It would have been
very difficult, however, to create a rhyme through the use of paronomasia
without inverting the syntax. Perhaps the ECA context of the commercial makes
this infringement of the conventional rules of syntax more acceptable.
9. Numerals
Blanc (1960:107) found that in the material collected
for his study of style variations in (educated) spoken Arabic all numerals
remained in their colloquial form. On the other hand, El-Hassan (1977:124)
offers evidence from his corpus of Educated Spoken Arabic that the classical
Arabic features of numerals are sometimes retained.[34]
In general we have found that numerals occur in commercials in the vernacular
form, and in either a SA or vernacular form in written advertisements.
In the magazine advertisement for “Coast” dried milk (Figure 2) the expression “seventeen nutritional elements” is mentioned
on three separate occasions. On the basis of what we have found concerning the
way in which [35] numbers are dealt with in Arabic advertising
generally, it is reasonable to argue that the grammar related to each
occurrence of this phrase is determined by a different motive in each case. In
the main text the numeral is given its full Classical—and
Standard—Arabic status (with nunation of the naṣb case on the noun from numbers
eleven to ninety-nine):
man minnā lā
yatamannā sabʿata ʿashara ʿunṣuran ghidhāʾiyyan
asāsiyyan fī mashrūb wāḥid
“would any of us not like to have seventeen essential nutritional
elements in one drink?”
There is nothing surprising about this conformity to
standard usage, since this is a straightforward narrative text highlighting the
qualities of the brand of milk in question. It was suggested earlier that texts
(or verbal presentations) of this type
typically occur in SA. However, we find later in this advertisement that
the grammar of the same phrase in the signature line displays colloquial
traits:[35]
ḥalīb kūst
. . . sabʿata ʿashara ʿunṣur ghidhāʾī li
l-ajsām . . . wa l-ʿiẓām
“Coast Milk . . . seventeen nutritional elements for the
body . . . and bones”
This accords with some of our earlier findings which
demonstrate that many press advertisements maintain the “presentation” style of television
commercials; in fact, this is one example which could conceivably have been
taken from television. In this type of scenario the signature line is often
delivered in a more vernacular register. As for the inset picture, this is
probably the scene that the viewer would see during the narration of the main
text. Again there is evidence that numerals appearing as “supers” do not normally follow conventional
grammatical rules.[36]
The following examples will support this notion.
In the television commercials for “Snack” chocolate bars and “Snacky” chocolate
wafers, a price for each product flashes intermittently on the screen. For the chocolate bars the price is khamsa wi ʿishrīn ʾirsh “twenty [36] five piastres”, while for the wafers it is khamastāshar ʾirsh “fifteen piastres”. In neither commercial is the noun ʾirsh given its full
grammatical status (the naṣb case ending with nunation). The explanation for this is
simply that both commercials are narrated in ECA. However, it is interesting
that this phenomenon appears in a “super”, and is not just spoken. One possible,
but unlikely, explanation for this could
lie once more in Leech’s theory of “attention
value”.
Further evidence that colloquial Arabic takes
precedence over SA in the representation of numerals in advertising can be
found in the press advertisement for “Miraco”
air-conditioning systems. A large boldface headline announcing the two main
types of systems offered by this company is followed immediately by:
ladaynā l-ithnayn “we have got them both” (ND 8/5/94)
According to the conventional rules of SA, the noun
for “two” should read here as al-ithnān, in the rafʿ case.
Another
example of the use of ECA numerals in an exclusively SA narrative occurs in a
television advertisement for “Farco” Royal
Jelly. The commentator announces the available potencies of the product by
saying:
bi tarkīz miyya aw miyyatēn
“(available in) concentrations of one hundred or two hundred”
or the following:
bi tarkīzin ʿālin
. . . suttumiyya
“in high concentration (of) six hundred”
10. Further cultural
elements in the discourse of Arabic advertising
This paper has already made
frequent reference to Arab culture as it is reflected in
the discourse of Arabic advertising. In this final section, more attention will be given to the relationship between
language (the verbal context) and culture (the situational context), as
reflected in the materials I have used.
A useful starting point for this discussion is
Suleiman’s article (1993), in which he examined the benefits of
teaching culture to non-native speakers of Arabic through a number of different
media. In the section on advertisements (ibid.:78–79)
he points out how they often reflect “shifts in the
political climate” within a country. To illustrate this
he gives an example from a Saudi newspaper advertising a brand of men’s aftershave called “U.S.A.” with the following caption: quwwat
al-ʿāṣifa
“strength of the storm”.
This caption not only creates an appropriate image of the potency of the
product, [37] but also evokes the close relationship between the United
States and Saudi Arabia after the Gulf War in 1991 through a reference to the “Desert Storm” operation against Iraqi forces
in Kuwait.
One of the many devices available to the copywriter is
visual pun and metaphor, although it is fair to say that in the Arabic context
the levels of subtlety vary a great deal. In
the commercial for a brand of ghee called “Baladī”, for instance, a woman is dressed in the traditional attire of
women in the countryside to correspond with the name of the product. A further
example from this category is the commercial for ʿArūsa
tea (above p. 6). The oriental music which accompanies this commercial, and the
pure, virginal connotations of the female
dressed in bridal attire, represent two very culture-specific
associations in the Muslim world. This type of commercial corresponds to Cook’s argument (1992:49) that “many ads create
powerful and complex messages entirely—or almost
entirely—through pictures and music, and are virtually
language-free”. As we saw earlier, this commercial is
language-free.
Another important feature of advertising discourse is
paralanguage, which Cook defines (ibid.:1) as “meaningful
behaviour accompanying language”. Whilst it is true
that paralanguage is probably more immediately associated with “live” presentation because of the factors of
gesture, expression, or intonation, for instance, Cook has shown that its value
in written texts should not be overlooked. He adds (ibid.:77) that “the number of ways in which advertising exploits the paralanguage of
writing is staggeringly large”. An example of this can be seen in the magazine
advertisement for “Parker Duofold” pens (O19/10/94) in
which an Arab of erudite appearance, wearing a headdress, is pictured sitting
at a desk writing with one of these pens. Written above him in a very neat and
mature hand-written script is the following:
inna fanna l-kitāba mithl al-taʿlīm
. . . lā tuqaddar qīmatuhā l-ḥaqīqiyya
illā bi l-nuḍūj
“the art of
writing is like education . . . its real value can only be
appreciated with maturity”
One assumes that the reference to “maturity” is aimed principally at the experience and long-standing excellence of Parker
pens, but also that the image of the Arab in headdress is intended to
represent maturity through knowledge and experience. The handwriting used in
this advertisement is significant because it too represents maturity, and in a
culture where calligraphy has been elevated to a revered status throughout
history it is sure to make a greater impact on the addressee. The choice of
formal language in [38] this advertisement is also significant, and is
underlined especially by the use of the nominalizing particle inna.
In the commercial for fūl beans produced by the company called “Ḥadāʾiq
Kālīfūrniyā” (above, p. 14), the switch from ECA to American English would probably only make an impression on middle-class, educated
people, at whom this commercial appears to be aimed. The same applies to the
use of tanwīn in the commercial
described above. Although fūl beans
are an essential part of the Egyptian staple diet it is most unlikely that
poorer, uneducated people could afford to buy the brand of beans being
advertised here. This language switch reflects, therefore, the type of consumer
for whom the product is intended. Other
factors in the commercial help to create the appropriate environment for
the promotion of the product, such as the Westernized “cowboy” dress of the singers, and the catchy tune which is again symbolic
of the West.[37]
The subtle incorporation of culture-specific features
in advertising discourse is to be found in many Arabic advertisements. One such
example is the “American Express” card
advertisement with the following invitation to the consumer:
istaʿmilhā li
shirāʾ hadiyya li zawjatika . . .
“use it to buy a present for your wife . . . ” (M
30/12/94)
The consumer is then invited to use the card to
purchase a toy for his child, or to invite a friend to supper. These
invitations evoke the strong family ties and hospitality which are a
fundamental part of Arab culture.
One of the most appealing examples of advertisements
adopting the intertextual approach is the one
for “Ford Ranger” pick-up trucks. The advertisement is
headed by the following text in large boldface (a further example of a paralinguistic
device) to attract the consumer, and to justify why he or she should buy one of
these vehicles:
alf sabab . . . wa
sabab “one
thousand . . . and one reasons”
In other words, there are “one thousand and one” reasons
why one should purchase one of
these pick-up trucks. By means of the apparent association with the
stories of the Thousand and One Nights
(Alf layla wa layla), the copywriter
has borrowed a structure which has been implanted in the minds of Arabs for
many centuries. This is further evidence of the “inter-discoursal” technique (Cook 1992:190), in which an advertisement “contains [39] the voice of another discourse type, as when
[it] evokes knowledge of a film or story”.[38]
It is worth noting that this technique has also been employed to good effect by
some writers of modern Arabic literature. Subjects such as mythology have been
explored through reference to recurring motifs in ancient texts, and themes
from the Thousand and One Nights have
also been incorporated in modern literary prose
works. In the material used for this study we have already seen how
well-known literary genres such as sajʿ and poetry have
been incorporated into advertising.
Cultural context, then, is vital for a wider
appreciation of the significance of advertisements.
Three further categories of context identified by Cook (ibid.:1–2) are situation, participants and function. An
example in which these categories are fundamental to an assessment of
an advertisement can be seen in very different presentations on Egyptian
television of two brands of washing powder. It may initially seem unusual to
set a commercial for a western brand of washing powder in the Egyptian
countryside, but the scene that was chosen for the “Ariel” commercial features a long narrative
by a lady from the poorer classes, with scenes of crowds of local people and
clean laundry billowing in the wind. By contrast, we find a commercial for a
much cheaper brand of Egyptian washing powder called “Rabso” being advertised from the comfortable home of an apparently
middle-class couple, with a piano and good-quality furniture in the background.
In this instance, we may presume that by switching the conventionally expected
scenarios the sender is attempting to illustrate that these brands are suitable
for everyone, in terms of cost in the case of the “Ariel” example, and quality in the case of the “Rabso” one.[39]
Another illustration of the relationship between text
and context may be identified in the morphology of the verb. Since Arabic is
one of those languages reflecting gender in the direct address forms, the use
of imperative verbs gives a clear indication
of who is being addressed by a particular advertisement. In the “American Express” advertisement, the imperative istaʿmilhā “use it” is directed principally at a male
audience, which creates the assumption that the man is more likely to possess a
credit card. Similarly, it is perhaps not
surprising that an advertisement for “Power” air-conditioning [40] machines is directed at men, not just because of the
nature of the appliance, but
also because of the name of the product which has machismo connotations.
On the other hand, one can see from the use of the feminine singular imperative
mood of the verb that women are the principal addressees
of advertisements for domestic products, such as washing powders and
shampoos.
In spite of the outstanding quality of some Egyptian
products and workmanship, there remains a tendency for copywriters to stress
the “foreign” association with a product where
appropriate. For example, in an advertisement for “Dahab” women’s clothes the main caption reads:
dhawq faransī . . . quṭn
miṣrī . . .“French taste Egyptian
cotton” (H 28/5/94)
or for “Qaṣr Bayān”
curtains and furniture covers:
ʿalā aḥdath
al-adhwāq wa l-mūdīlāt al-ūrubiyya wa l-amrīkiyya
“according to the most recent American and European tastes and
designs” (H 28/5/94)
The following example for “Aracemco”
sanitary-ware is also of this type:
intāj waṭanī
muṭābiq li l-muwāṣafāt al-ūrubiyya
“national production (made) according to European specifications” (H 30/4/94)
We shall end this paper by paying particular attention
to one of the most interesting commercials to present itself during this study.
The commercial for “Knorr” stock cubes appears to
encapsulate the essential relationship between text
and context which has been the focus of much of this paper. It makes use of a
very specific form of intertextuality to achieve maximum effect.
In this commercial, two chickens
are discussing the versatility of the product
in a light-humoured fashion. They are sitting in a kitchen inventing rhyming
riddles—in high-pitched cartoon type voices—playing the Egyptian game of ʾafya, a form of
witty repartee in which one person begins a riddle by making a statement, the
recipient poses the question ishmiʿnā “why?”, and the
person who made the original statement formulates a reply which may or may not
rhyme with his or her original statement, but which contains a pun.[40]
In this commercial the key promotional effect is made, and maintained,
[41] by a constant repetition
of the words maraʾit knūr “Knorr stock”, followed by the name of a
well-known Egyptian dish whose flavour would naturally be enhanced, or not as
the case may be, by the addition of “Knorr” stock. The question ishmiʿnā is then followed by a reply that
rhymes with the name of the dish, irrespective of its nonsensical
meaning. For example:
Chicken 1: maraʾit knūr fi k-kōsa “Knorr Stock with zucchini”
Chicken 2: ishmiʿnā? “Why?”
Chicken 1: hātī yakhtī bōsa “Give us a kiss, sister!”
or
the following:
Chicken 1: maraʾit knūr fī l-maḥshī “Knorr Stock with vine leaves”
Chicken 2: ishmiʿnā “Why?”
Chicken 2: mā yinfaʿsh(i) “That’s no good!”
Perhaps
the cleverest example of these exchanges is the following:
Chicken 1: maraʾit knūr fī l-mulukhiyya “Knorr Stock with mulukhiyya”
Chicken 2: ishmiʿnā “Why?”
Chicken 1: il-maraʾa il-ḥadīdiyya “Iron Stock” (or “the
Iron Lady”)
In order to understand the pun on the last line here,
one must have some awareness of the political situation in Great Britain at the
end of the 1980’s when Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister. Her
reputation as the “Iron Lady”
was also well-known in the
Of particular interest in the commercial is that it
was presumably aimed at women, yet the game of ʾafya is normally a male pastime. In Egypt these verbal
exchanges normally take place at night around the hookah pipe. It seems likely
therefore, that the aim of the commercial is to achieve maximum “attention value” by making a predominantly
male activity the focus of a commercial aimed at women.
11. Conclusion
This paper has acknowledged the importance of
advertisements as a genre in their own right,
and has proposed the view that the discourse of advertisements
[42] is often a reflection of
the culture of its people. The technique of intertextuality
is often fundamental to the promotional success of a commercial or
advertisement. It is true that the message of an advertisement is more likely to make an impression on a consumer if
it contains more “attention value”. As we have seen, there are a number of techniques available to the
copywriter to achieve this. Among the most important of these techniques is
intertextuality, which creates a sense of familiarity for the consumer through
a literary or musical association, for instance. This technique might prove
very effective in persuading him or her to purchase a product.
This study has also tempted to show that although some
linguistic features are more likely to be found in the language of Arabic
advertising than in other varieties of Arabic, the language of the former
should not be seen as a violation of more standard forms of the language. There
is much work to be done on the current state
of modern Arabic itself, so it would be inappropriate to argue at this stage
that advertising language is simply an aberrant form of this.
We have seen that the advertising copywriter often
mixes linguistic levels, or codes, and that in many cases one can identify
patterns for these switches. A specific linguistic code is often selected
either for connotative or referential purposes, or to create a rhyme, for
example, which might not have been possible without switching codes.
Some of the techniques employed in Arabic advertising
may be compared to those of British advertising, but the fundamentally
different structures of the two languages means that a direct comparison would
not necessarily be the way forward.[42] The technique of punning at the lexical level, for
instance, is more common in English
advertising language. For example, the phenomenon of lexical “blending”, so common in
British advertising, is scarcely to be
found in Arabic. Whilst many examples such as “Schweppervescence” (for “Schweppes” fizzy drinks) occur in the former,
ingenious coinings like Fantaʿish (for
the fizzy drink “Fanta”) are rare in Arabic.[43]
[43] Much
more could be said about verbal groups—for example, the use of tense and
aspect in advertising—or nominal and adjectival groups
(including collocations), as well as rhetorical features such as metonymy. More
could also be said on the use of the imperative, such as the “direct” and “indirect”
methods of addressing the
consumer, and its relevance to the concept of “interpersonal” meanings within a text.[44]
This could be carried out within the context of “interdiscursivity”, as Fairclough demonstrates (1992:114–117
esp.) in his analysis of an advertisement for Barclay’s
Visa card. What is at issue in this, and similar advertisements, is the “intertextual relation between the
financial information and advertising elements of the text”, namely, the conflict between
the conditions of use of this card, and the
means of “selling” it to the
consumer. One such technique employed by the copywriter is the deliberate
avoidance of authoritative language in the form of obligation. In this
advertisement, the copywriter has toned down the regulatory parts of the text.
In Fairclough’s view (p. 117), “this gives the sense of the two discourse types trying uneasily to
coexist in the text”.
At all events, these are just a few of the areas for
further research. It is only through a full appreciation of the
inter-discoursal elements that the social and linguistic significance of
advertisements can be brought fully to life. It is hoped that this paper
provides the stimulus for more investigations into this fascinating field of
study. [44]
Appendix 1
Transcript for “Cuddlies”
diaper commercial
il-bēbihāt bitfaḍḍal kudlīz
. . . sabaʿ ṭabaʾāt wi astik . . .
kudlīz biyitkawwin min sabaʿ
ṭabaqāt likay yuʾakkid
rāḥit wi gafāf ṭiflik . . . wi li
mazīd min al-iḥkām muzawwad bi astik . . .
il-bēbihāt bitfaḍḍal kudlīz
. . . sabaʿ ṭabaʾāt wi astik
Translation
“Babies love Cuddlies . . .
seven layers and a piece of elastic . . .
Cuddlies have seven layers to ensure that your child
remains comfortable and dry . . . and for extra strength they have a
piece of elastic. . . .
Babies love Cuddlies . . . seven layers and a
piece of elastic.
Appendix 2
Transcript for “Qisma”
shampoo commercial
Consumer: iddīnī
s-sirr fī saʿādtik dī kullahā?
Demonstrator: abadan
ghasalt(i) shaʿrī bi shāmbū ʾisma l-gadīd
Consumer: eh ḥikētuh
da?
Demonstrator: min
khilāl dirāsāt mustafīda istamarrit sanawāt ʿadīda tawaṣṣal khubarāʾ it-tagmīl ilā shāmbū ʾisma l-gadīd
Consumer: mawgūd
dilwaʾtī?
Demonstrator: wi
talat anwāʿ kamān . . . li
sh-shaʿr ig-gāff . . . li
sh-shaʿr id-duhnī wi li sh-shaʿr il-ʿādī . . .
gawda ʿāliya fī
t-tarkīb . . . rāʾiḥa
mutamayyiza . . . yagʿal ish-shaʿr dhū barīq . . . shāmbū ʾisma l-gidīd . . . huwwa illī fī
khayālī
Consumer: wi siʿruh ʿādī
Translation
C: “Why
are you so happy?”
D: “It's
no secret. . . . I washed my hair with new “Qisma” shampoo.”
C: “Tell
me about it.”
D: “As a
result of studies lasting a number of years beautification experts have
produced the new shampoo from Qisma.”
C: “Is
it available now?”
D: “[Yes],
and in three sizes . . . for dry, greasy and ordinary hair.
. . . it has a distinctive smell . . . and a high-quality
composition. . . . It makes the hair shine. . . .
Qisma shampoo is the one for me!”
C: “And
it is reasonably priced.”
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Key
to magazines and newspapers referred to in the text
H
= Ḥawāʾ
ND = Niṣf al-Dunyā
O
= Jarīdat ʿUmān
M = al-Mushāhid
U = al-Usra
HAY = al-Ḥayāt
SA
= al-Sharq al-Awsaṭ (newspaper)
All television commercials are taken from two collections of video
recordings made in 1989
and 1994. The advertisements were all recorded from Egyptian television Channel
Two.
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Figure 1
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Figure 2