The concept of language is so brilliantly explored in “Hush,” a Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode that places the Scooby Gang in a nightmarish scenario with a group called the Gentlemen who steal the voices of Sunnydale’s residents in order to obtain seven hearts. We watch in fear as our normally talkative characters become refined down to an expressive face with a pair of arms and legs. Given the panic that ensues, we might lead ourselves to believe that language is the best way to convey our thoughts to the people around us, and, for the most part, you’d be right. We, as well as the Scoobies, strongly desire language’s simplicity and having our thoughts understood by others in a quick manner. Heck, I’m writing this essay for you to read with the use of language because it’s an efficient way to convey my thoughts with you. However, it’s how we use language to navigate around what we really want to say that limits us. While it might seem like communication would fall apart entirely, our characters actually begin to express more than they could have in the presence of language. Through Scoobies’ silence, I received a glimpse of not only the benefits, but also the limits of language as a form of communication.
We ironically begin the episode with a lecture about the difference between communication and language, a foreshadow of what’s to come for Sunnydale. It’s here where we are first introduced to our villains, the Gentlemen, during Buffy’s dream. It’s established early on in the episode that language limits, rather than enhances, the characters’ communication. For instance, Buffy and Riley, who clearly display attraction for each other, avoid expressing how they feel in fear of their exposing their identities to each other. Even Xander struggles express his love for Anya, despite her attempts to get him to do so. The most prominent, and truly exciting, instance occurs when Willow attends the Wicca group and attempts to speak on behalf of witchcraft. Her suggestion is immediately shut down but a girl named Tara steps in and attempts to support Willow, but fails to do so. Her defeated expression displays how desperately she wished to, but how the act of speaking holds her back. In each of these instances, language inhibits communication. What was presumed to be an obvious benefit for communication has become silencer for all our characters’ true desires. Let’s think about it: in the beginning of a relationship, in an oddly backwards manner, it’s almost easier to show a person that you love them than to literally say the words “I love you.” We fear how the other person will react or how they will interpret, or rather misinterpret, our own words. The oversaturation of language in the first act contrasts the ensuing acts where our characters are speechless, literally.
We come upon the Gentlemen, a group of black suit-wearing vampires who steal our characters’ voices. Upon waking up, Buffy and Willow open their mouths to complete silence. Suddenly, this “convenience” they’ve had since the beginning of the show disappears. Our characters must resort to only gestures, actions, and writing to communicate, but we quickly realize how easily such actions can be misinterpreted as well.
In a particularly humorous scene, the Scooby Gang discusses possible ways to defeat the henchmen through the use of slides. When Giles presents the question “What do they want,” Willow gestures towards her chest. Xander assumes that she’s gesturing towards her boobs, but we learn that she was really pointing to her heart. In addition, Xander poses the question “How do we kill them?” Buffy mimics a stabbing motion by moving her hand up and down. However, everyone is confused as the gesture clearly appears suggest that of masturbation. It’s only when Buffy actually grabs the stake that the characters truly recognize what she intended to convey. Such instances convey what type of communication we struggle with without language. With her voice, it would have been much easier to simply say what she wants. “Can’t we just stab them through the heart?” When the communication involves immediacy, that’s when language benefits us, and that’s exactly why communication failed multiple times in this scene. It’s not only frustrating that our own thoughts would not be able to be conveyed in an immediate manner, but it’s also frustrating that those thoughts and ideas would be misinterpreted when we convey them.
However, as the episode progresses, the roadblocks of language that our characters experienced at the beginning of the episode are relieved. Buffy’s inability to speak allows her and Riley to share an unprompted kiss together, something she’s been wanting to receive the entire episode. Similarly, Xander’s protective tendencies towards Anya prove to her, without any words being said, that he truly does care deeply for her. I know it’s clichèd, but here it is so true: “An action speaks louder than words.” Furthermore, as my excitement stated earlier, the most riveting reveal occurs between Willow and Tara. As Tara attempts to bring Willow a potion that could restore their voices, she encounters the Gentlemen. The two eventually run into each other and take refuge in a laundry room. They’re trapped and they need to barricade the door fast! Willow struggles even wiggle the vending machine using her telekinesis by herself. However, Tara recognizes Willow’s weakness. The two join hands! Together, with both of their powers combined, they thrust the machine in front of the door, preventing the Gentlemen's' entry. With one single action, the two say more about their ensuing relationship than any amount of words could have said.
A seasoned Buffy viewer would know what this relationship is leading to. I’m sorry, but I must spoil something to make my point. Willow and Tara eventually become a couple and Tara dies. With one single clasp of the hand, they convey, and in the process foreshadow, what neither of them could have said with the presence of words. I’m not alone with this. In her article “Buffy’s Silent Episode Was an Elegy for Its Gays,” Andrea Long Chu recognizes the significance of this moment because it cleverly foreshadows their future relationship without directly stating it. It could only be convincingly done with this episode. According to Chu, her girlfriend “...loves Willow and Tara too. I hold this knowledge close to myself, build it a cage from my ribs. [Their relationship and her death] cannot be spoken. One day, a smiling man will float into my bedroom, cut me open and pull it out. ‘What’s wrong?’ my girlfriend asks. I want to tell her. The words don’t come.” Similarly to the episode, Chu knows what is going to happen with these characters at this moment, yet she knows that she, just like our characters in “Hush,” cannot share this information with her girlfriend. Chu describes sharing such knowledge almost as if it were an insurmountable task. The simplicity of language not only becomes a limiting factor for the characters of the show but for Chu as well.
I couldn’t help but interpret subtext from this scene. Given that we know that Willow and Tara will eventually be a couple, I couldn’t help but feel this scene represents the difficulty of coming out. Many fear coming out because of the possible repercussions that feel they might face, such as neglect or disapproval from their family or peers. When we speak, the words we say nearly cement how we feel while our thoughts about such feelings might change independent of what we’ve said. With coming out, one literally has to use language to cement how they define their sexuality. In a way, Willow and Tara’s silence appear to be them coming out to themselves and to each other, something that neither of them could say with language.
User InTheWind expands on their silence with “No Words,” a fic where Tara attempts to write Willow a letter describing how much she loves her after the events of “Hush.” Tara, struggling to say this with her own words directly to Willow, writes “I’ve never felt a connection like that before, and from the way you looked at me I thought that maybe you might have felt it too. You must have, right, in that second when you first took my hand? How else could you have known exactly what I wanted us to do?” (InTheWind). It’s difficult for her to cope. We understand Tara’s great struggle to convey her words to Willow. She finishes with “I’ve never been good at the whole talking thing. Maybe someday I’ll even tell you I love you” (InTheWind). Even after having her voice restored, Tara still can’t share what she obviously wants to say to Willow. Language is something we use, or rather don’t use, to navigate around what we want to say. We fear how other people will react to our own thoughts, so we suppress them. In this case, Tara feels quite certain that Willow feels the same way, but the fear of having her words misinterpreted keeps her from telling Willow.
Maybe our language inhibits what we want to say more than we make ourselves believe. We might assume that simply speaking is the easiest way for one to convey their thoughts, but there just might be a roadblock in the way. “Hush” is a television episode like no other. It displays not benefits, but also the limits of human language. So, while we may assume the best way to convey our thoughts is to say them, pause and think. We may have more roadblocks in the way of what we truly want to say than we lead ourselves onto. And if so, maybe an action can say more than any amount of words ever could.
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