“Speak what terrible language you will”: Shakespeare and TikTok

People frequently and self-deprecatingly claim, “I’m no Shakespeare,” right before they boast about something amazing they’ve written. (Or is that just me?) But in terms of new words and phrases entering the language, it increasingly seems as if more and more people are like Shakespeare, or at least trying to be, and with varying degrees of success.

William Shakespeare is the primary source for many hundreds of words and phrases in the English language. While it seems cold-blooded to be a critic and gossip about whether he actually coined these varied words or merely popularized them, if you’ll pardon my rant, it’s obscene how uncomfortable and worthless I feel (despite being not in the least jaded about the puppy dog excitement and amazement I experience) when I realize that Shakespeare was a champion at playing with language. And yes, those highlighted — and italicized — words are all his.

Similarly, if you complain about not having slept one wink, if you’ve had too much of a good thing, or been eaten[…]out of house and home, or observed that something wicked this way comes, or [worn your] heart upon [your] sleeve, been given short shrift, gone on a wild-goose chase, or even if you’ve caught yourself singing along to the Nick Lowe song “Cruel to Be Kind,” then congratulations! You’ve been quoting, respectively, Cymbeline, As You Like It, Henry IV Part 2, Macbeth, Othello, Richard III, Romeo and Juliet, and Hamlet.

Granted, these words and phrases have had 400 years to catch on, but culture writer and chronicler of “mostly made-up microtrends” Rebecca Jennings has identified a TikTok fad she’s dubbed “trendbait,” where “random people have made videos inventing [new] terms in the hope that the wording will go viral.” Whether it’s a man earnestly trying to explain something called the “weekend effect” or a young woman trying to force a label onto a thing that isn’t really a thing — or, best of all, this funny woman (below) hilariously satirizing both and thousands more like them — people are planting their linguistic flags in this brave new world (The Tempest!) of democratic, gatekeeper-free, digital communication.

This playfulness with language is always to be applauded, of course, coming as it does from anyone of any age with a phone and a social media account (even the Folger has gotten into the TikTok game, below). One of the most successful Shakespeare trends I’ve seen on the platform formerly known as Twitter is the weekly game of #ShakespeareSunday, started by the account @HollowCrownFans, wherein people pair favorite Shakespeare quotes with related gifs from different elements of pop culture like Disney animation, Star Wars, or Doctor Who. I have also tried to make things “trend” with various hashtags that failed to catch on, like referring to the 400th commemoration of Shakespeare’s passing as his #deathiversary, or dubbing the Reduced Shakespeare Company’s record-setting performance of Romeo and Juliet aboard a flight to Verona as #ShakesOnAPlane. I even refer to these “Shakespeare & Beyond” articles as “blessays,” a portmanteau coined in 2007 by author and actor Stephen Fry that combines “blog” and “essay” and delights no one but my Folger editors and me. (As I said, #ImNoShakespeare.)

Jennings lists Shakespeare as an example of a “top-down” source for how “catchy phrases or new terms have historically been disseminated,” but I don’t agree. Shakespeare’s plays were the popular culture of his day and theater was the original social medium. The playhouse was the place where people from all levels of society could see and be seen, exchange news and gossip, and — most importantly — become emotionally invested in the stories being told onstage. Shakespeare’s language resonated with audiences then and now because it came out of the mouths of fascinating characters in narratively compelling situations.

Understanding that Shakespeare’s theater wasn’t high culture then helps explain why pop culture now — in the form of television, comedy, and music — does a better job than social media at creating lasting words and phrases that make it not only into everyday usage but into dictionaries. Monty Python’s Spam sketch gave us the word for unsolicited online messaging. “Cowabunga,” an expression of excitement or exhilaration, got its start on the 1950s TV show Howdy Doody before being adopted by surfers in the 1960s and being heard in subsequent decades by watchers of Gidget, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and The Simpsons. Everyone knows a “Debbie Downer,” thanks to Rachel Dratch and Saturday Night Live. The sitcoms Seinfeld and Friends gave us the words for “regifting” and “friend zone,” the latter of which being something Antonio from Twelfth Night would absolutely have recognized.

Musicians also enjoy a Shakespearean-level of playfulness with language, giving us such dictionary-verified words as “stan” (from Eminem’s song about an extremely devoted fan); “props” or “propers” (immortalized by Aretha Franklin in her song “R-E-S-P-E-C-T” and adopted from Detroit street slang); “diss” (an insult or expression of contempt; Robert Greene’s pamphlet labeling Shakespeare an “upstart crow” might be considered the original diss tract); “jiggy” (from the Will Smith song and according to the Oxford English Dictionary, to be “excitedly energetic or uninhibited” or “to engage in sexual activity”); and Destiny’s Child, whose “bootylicious” would seem self-explanatory but the OED helpfully defines as to be “sexy; shapely; often with reference to the buttocks.”

It might be safer to argue, then, not that TikTok is the new Shakespeare, but that Shakespeare was the original TikTok. Don’t take my word for it: Watch this TikTok bro (above) straight-up celebrate Shakespeare’s gift to language. I love this guy’s Shakespeare bromance — a word, along with “bootylicious,” that Shakespeare wishes he invented.