By the time Damien Holt greets me in his East London studio, he’s already speaking Zarvox, the language he invented and which he hopes will soon be spoken around the world, bringing healing to war zones and friendship to those previously unable to understand each other. His greeting sounds, to the untrained ear, like someone gargling marbles while reading IKEA furniture warnings aloud.
“Frömlik vunt-harrah šōōk,” he says warmly. When I ask what that means, he explains it’s a traditional Zarvoxian greeting that roughly translates to The moon forgives your earlier mistake. I thank him.
Holt’s goal is simple: replace every language on Earth with Zarvox, which he believes will foster unity and empathy. The problem? Almost no one wants to speak it.
“People are resistant,” admits Holt. “They complain it’s hard to pronounce or that my alphabet looks like an electrical wiring diagram. But they said the same thing about the iPhone.”
Voices from the Early Adopters
Holt’s Zarvoxian Academy currently boasts 11 students, though three joined accidentally after misreading an Eventbrite listing.
“I’ve been studying for six months,” says Peter McLennan, a software engineer. “So far I can order a coffee and describe the emotional state of my cat. I’ve only had one mishap – I accidentally confessed to several crimes I didn’t commit.”
Another student, Lila Carr, says, “It’s beautiful, really. I just wish there were fewer sounds that require me to inhale and exhale at the same time. My GP told me I had to stop, but I do so reluctantly.”
The Film: Fruntlar: A Zarvoxian Love Story
Holt believes cinema will be Zarvox’s Trojan horse into the hearts of the masses. His upcoming feature film, Fruntlar, is a sweeping romantic epic set in the city of Šlarp, (the Zarvoxian name for Paris).
Plot Summary:
In a time of political upheaval, Šlür (played by Holt himself) falls in love with Mrrʉn (played by an actress who reportedly learned her lines phonetically and still has jaw cramps). Their love blossoms despite the Klinthu Edict, a decree banning the public display of affection unless expressed through synchronised eyebrow movements.
The trailer, which is completely unsubtitled, features two people shouting rhythmic consonant clusters at each other while standing in the rain, a silent staring contest that lasts 47 seconds, and a battle scene fought entirely with spoons.
When asked whether audiences will understand it, Holt shrugs. “Art isn’t about being understood. It’s about being felt. If people leave the cinema sobbing, or at least keen to learn Zarvox just to understand what was going on, I’ve succeeded.”
Sample Phrases in Zarvox from the film
• Gvrrtik nüm-bralü: My horse is politically neutral.
• Ša-loonk mrrk-flepp!: Quick, the bread is running away!
• Tvvru šlāā nkhonk: I respect your family, but fear your goat.
The Future of Zarvox
Holt is unfazed by the skeptics. “Once Zarvox is on Duolingo, it’ll take off,” he insists. “Until then, it’s about planting seeds. Seeds made of sound. Weird, chewy sound.” He leans in, eyes shining, and whispers: “Hrünt.”
I ask him what it means.
“It means don’t go… or literally I’ve hidden your shoes.”
I did go, with a promise to learn Zarvox when his iOS teaching app is available. I gather that won’t be for years…
