Into The Blue: Brochure speak

"The bluest Mediterranean waters." "Enchanting coastal towns." "Roman ruins and incredible cuisine." Any guesses yet?

"Fiercely distinct (from the mainland) ... a language all its own ... sun-baked streets ... fine sandy beaches ... azure waters ... dream deeply on its white dunes." Where is this?

Well, it isn't Mallorca. It is in fact Sardinia. The version of Sardinia offered, that is, on the BBC's website by someone on behalf of "Lonely Planet". It could just as easily be Mallorca, were the description not for some specific peculiarities of Sardinia, because some of the features and more importantly the language used to describe them could apply to Mallorca equally as well. Indeed the language could be used to describe any number of places, and that's because the language is default brochure speak.

Shove a blue in as an adjective, consult a thesaurus for an alternative (namely azure), toss in a bit of sun baking, fine sand and dreaming, and bingo you have captured the imagination of the reader.

Is the reader really as unimaginative as this, though? And as unimaginative as the author? Possibly so. When it comes to descriptions of Mediterranean islands (as well as Caribbean islands, various other islands and Lord knows where else), all that's needed is a checklist of adjectives and features and a copy and paste command. The first rule of brochure speak is that thou must refer to blue waters (or turquoise waters, if you are feeling particularly creative).

It's understandable in a way. Assume, for a moment, that the reader lives in Barnsley (and this is not to pick on Barnsley). There is a general absence of much of the above, though possibly a language all its own might apply. It's a pretty simple procedure: depict somewhere that clearly isn't Barnsley, but make it as recognisable as possible, as the Barnsleyite will be familiar with the concept of blue, sandy and sun-baked (if only thanks to the telly), and he or she will be rushing to the nearest travel agent.

It makes not the slightest bit of difference, however, whether it is Sardinia or Mallorca. It could be anywhere. And this is the failure of brochure speak and of its some time fellow traveller, naff travel writing. The failure is a conformity of imagery, lexicographical laziness and a conspiracy of thesaurus, all of which assume the punter can think no further than blue, sandy and sun-baked.

But what purpose does it serve to describe waters as blue or bluest? This is the normal state for waters. It's why, for example, maps have great blobs of blue for sea. You grow up from a very early age aware that the sea is blue, or at least is denoted by blue, even if you have never seen it.

Maybe this is it, though. Brochure speak talks to the inner infant. It will be why much of it has never gone beyond the Janet and John level. It is the shared learning experience of the kindergarten and the primary school, and it is one that survives into adulthood and compels writers of all sorts, not just those producing brochures, to engage in a process of group identity. It is the comfort of a lack of descriptive strangeness.

This compulsion is so strong that it demands constant reinforcement even when the context doesn't demand it. You can barely move, in a textual sense, without being reminded that Mallorca is variously lovely, beautiful or paradise. Even if the context might demand it, the conformism of adjective and analogy is part of a fundamentalist movement that requires a liturgy to be repeated regularly.

The religiosity of the simple and repetitious brochure speak and descriptive groupthink brooks no argument. To suggest, for example, that Mallorca isn't paradise or to simply ignore its pretensions to being so by not even drawing the comparison is to run the risk of a figurative fatwa.

Not, however, that such speak has of necessity to be magniloquent. Not at all. There's simple and then there's simple. Fancy going to Sardinia (or Mallorca)?

"There's a load of sea, resorts with lots to see and do, bits of old ruin, some good nosh, they don't much like the Italians (Spanish) and they talk funny, it's bloomin' hot when you're out walking, the beaches are brill and you can fall asleep on the dunes." Actually you can't fall asleep on most of Mallorca's dunes, because they're off-limits now, but otherwise this says pretty much what you would get but in brochure speak. And there's no blue in sight.


Any comments to andrew@thealcudiaguide.com please.