Severus Snape or the Importance of Body Language
+ A socially-awkward streak of perfection in speech
This is a little thought that has been nagging me since I saw these
Those are obviously not mine, they are how Rowling viewed Snape in her head (the hats are terrible). I’m not focusing on the cruelty of how she constructed such a character to be ridiculed for his ‘ugliness’, rather I’d like to make you notice—as you guessed—the body language used there.
There is a common example of body language we teach people: when you cross your arms in front of your chest, you are in a posture of defense. This occurs mostly when you confront someone, sometimes someone you disagree with, or a large group of people, for instance during a presentation in front of a class. Teachers will tell you to stop it because it sends a message that you’re closed up, that you feel threatened: the arms are protecting your chest, resting between your body and that of the opponent, they form a shield and they can even hug you in a sense, as though trying to warm you up in winter.
Now, notice how Rowling drew Snape? He constantly joins his arms in front of him. Not only is that a reminder of the arms-crossing I described, but sometimes it evolves into the second but mostly third panel: Snape is pulling the pans of his robes in front of him. For me, it’s not just a message of defensiveness: it’s a message of active self-protection, of being re-assured, of sensed fragility, of having something to hide and protect. Self-comfort, like when you pull a blanket around your shoulders and hold the ends in front of you. It’s pulling something near your heart, in front of an exposed part of the body with vital organs, which adds a sense of secretiveness. Imagine doing that with your coat. Try doing it and study how you feel, what messages you are sending yourself, how people could interpret what you’re doing. So unless his robes are really long, I think this posture is extremely revealing of Snape.
This is not only pictured in her sketches though. It’s in the books each time Snape’s described as an overgrown bat. What do bats do? They retract their wings in front of them, hiding their bodies like this:
(Picture not mine obviously)
So this pulling of the robes in front of him fits exactly with canon.
I have fair belief that this habit—starting with how he felt the need to hide his mother’s clothes as a kid and blushing for the embarassment and the discomfort under the hot sun, starting with the physical assaults as he’s been bullied, starting from how people mocked his looks—has been completely inscribed into him since when he was sexually assaulted, stripped of his underwear in front of everyone, unable to hide himself with his robes. Well there he’s hiding his front constantly. He’s tugging at those robes, securing them before him all right. Maybe whenever he lets them go he feels somewhat exposed, naked? Maybe he needs to grip at something to ‘hang on’? I could say it’s used as to make him imposing and look big in the class, but again, guess why he’d do that?
This is terrible. You’d have to be blind, or really unconscious of how to spot victims of trauma, not to notice the signs. You might not be able to read Snape’s mind, but on the body, he’s an open book. Snape stands no chance in front of Muggles who know where to look and who interpret correctly. A single glance, maybe a single class where you see how he behaves, talks, moves and interacts with students, and you guess everything.
the brow and mouth lines that indicate stress
the tight lips that indicates hostility, poor social interactions, bitterness
the sad/melancholic look, the mistrustful/condescending one, eyes narrowing
the constant frown that wards off people because of its open hostility
the clothes that cover everything but his hands and face—here Rickman added the knuckle-long sleeves that hides you even more and gives you some sense of comfort and privacy (rape victims are said to use tons of long sweaters and to always wear pants, you sadly know why)
the high collar that hides the neck and back of the head pretty well—well it’s been replaced by the long sleeves
the long curtains of hair that can easily hide a face, hide the nose, maybe when he’s embarassed as well
the constant use of black, but I can’t pinpoint the exact reasons yet
the joining of hands, crossing the fingers for the third sketch, that again indicates closeness, but also discomfort and is very near to mild self-harm (scratching between the fingers or the palms)
the stumble that can either be a reference to John Nettleship’s 5 o’clock shadow, or a clue to poor grooming and self-neglect
the sallow skin, the yellow teeth and the “yellow finger” that scream self-neglect and how he feels bad under his skin
how he seems to always tilt his head towards the ground, as though defiant but still submissive and feeling as a prey—people uncomfortable with others will look at their feet to close off
the dark circles under his eyes (yep, you spot them on all panels)
the canon gaunt look (poor eating habits) stressed by the pronounced cheekbones, more noticeable on this following early sketch, “Snape brooding on the unfairness of life” which is again a clue to constant negative and depressive mindset
(Notice the pronounced/bobbing Adam apple, also is that a giant table or just something to put a book to read in front of the class like I see on interviews for the press? And again, he’s crossing his arms in front of his chest)
All of those are signs that give a pretty fair insight as to who Snape is inside and how he feels, what he thinks. Obviously there are people who read body language better than me...
I’d like to add this: people with low self-esteem (prone to be targets of radicalization) often think people laugh at them on their back. But for Snape, those insults are real. They haven’t ever stopped. He can’t even fool himself when he can literally read the minds of his students and the people around him. I remember that my saving point to move past a Snape-like behavior, was the realization that people didn’t look at me to laugh on my back—I was normal and inconsequential, and I never felt such a wonderful mind-blown. Snape doesn’t even have this luxury, and I can’t imagine how he could get out of this destructive circle of negativity. No wonder he’s cruel and openly nasty; I often view them as either revenge or defensive tactics (defend yourself from perceived attacks or strike first because the best defense is attack and the person you’ve attacked now knows they mustn’t try funny things with you if they don’t want to get hurt, they better leave you alone). Heck, even his ugliness could have turned into a weapon to instill fear into potential threats. Snape knows how Death Eaters look pretty ugly and how that can intimidate people; students have no luck (‘ugliness ‘attacks’ the eye’).
Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but it strikes that chord damn well. So much in fact, that I love this version of Snape very much.
Snape has the habit to require people to use proper terms. For instance, he tells Harry Legilimency is not “mind-reading”; he tells Harry, in HBP, that ghosts aren’t just ‘transparent’ but are the lasting imprint of a departing soul (and Ron will burn him for that, the second time his class laughs at him, and they say Snape is a tyran under whom everybody cowers? He’s losing his grip)
Those are pretty suspicious for me. Where does that need for precision come from? this somewhat sense of perfectionnism? I don’t want to use improper terms right and left, but those are reasons Snape can’t fit in with people. People want to speak fast, they don’t care for details and full specifics in everyday life, and if you speak about ghosts or legilimency, then they’ll know what you’re talking about and they don’t care about the almost-scientific terms—as Ron says, you won’t ask the ghost you’ll see if they’re the imprint of a departing soul. Snape cares very much though. Imagine a kid fixating on a single ‘perfect’ definition, or a man having something akin to obsessive perfectionism... this need to use the exact proper terms, even in informal settings... you get what I mean? Honestly the first thing that comes to mind for this mechanism is autism. Maybe Asperger-like. But what could that precisely be otherwise?
