Emacs Byte-code Internals

Byte-code compilation is an underdocumented — and in the case of the recent lexical binding updates, undocumented — part of Emacs. Most users know that Elisp is usually compiled into a byte-code saved to .elc files, and that byte-code loads and runs faster than uncompiled Elisp. That’s all users really need to know, and the GNU Emacs Lisp Reference Manual specifically discourages poking around too much.

People do not write byte-code; that job is left to the byte compiler. But we provide a disassembler to satisfy a cat-like curiosity.

Screw that! What if I want to handcraft some byte-code myself? :-) The purpose of this article is to introduce the internals of Elisp byte-code interpreter. I will explain how it works, why lexically scoped code is faster, and demonstrate writing some byte-code by hand.

The Humble Stack Machine

The byte-code interpreter is a simple stack machine. The stack holds arbitrary lisp objects. The interpreter is backwards compatible but not forwards compatible (old versions can’t run new byte-code). Each instruction is between 1 and 3 bytes. The first byte is the opcode and the second and third bytes are either a single operand or a single intermediate value. Some operands are packed into the opcode byte.

As of this writing (Emacs 24.3) there are 142 opcodes, 6 of which have been declared obsolete. Most opcodes refer to commonly used built-in functions for fast access. (Looking at the selection, Elisp really is geared towards text!) Considering packed operands, there are up to 27 potential opcodes unused, reserved for the future.

The easiest place to access the opcode listing is in bytecomp.el. Beware that some of the opcode comments are currently out of date.

Segmentation Fault Warning

Byte-code does not offer the same safety as normal Elisp. Bad byte-code can, and will, cause Emacs to crash. You can try out for yourself right now,

emacs -batch -Q --eval '(print (#[0 "\300\207" [] 0]))'

Or evaluate the code manually in a buffer (save everything first!),

(#[0 "\300\207" [] 0])

This segfault, caused by referencing beyond the end of the constants vector, is not an Emacs bug. Doing a boundary test would slow down the byte-code interpreter. Not performing this test at run-time is a practical engineering decision. The Emacs developers have instead chosen to rely on valid byte-code output from the compiler, making a disclaimer to anyone wanting to write their own byte-code,

You should not try to come up with the elements for a byte-code function yourself, because if they are inconsistent, Emacs may crash when you call the function. Always leave it to the byte compiler to create these objects; it makes the elements consistent (we hope).

You’ve been warned. Now it’s time to start playing with firecrackers.

The Byte-code Object

A byte-code object is functionally equivalent to a normal Elisp vector except that it can be evaluated as a function. Elements are accessed in constant time, the syntax is similar to vector syntax ([...] vs. #[...]), and it can be of any length, though valid functions must have at least 4 elements.

There are two ways to create a byte-code object: using a byte-code object literal or with make-byte-code. Like vector literals, byte-code literals don’t need to be quoted.

(make-byte-code 0 "" [] 0)
;; => #[0 "" [] 0]

#[1 2 3 4]
;; => #[1 2 3 4]

(#[0 "" [] 0])
;; error: Invalid byte opcode

The elements of an object literal are:

Parameter List

The parameter list takes on two different forms depending on if the function is lexically or dynamically scoped. If the function is dynamically scoped, the argument list is exactly what appears in lisp code.

(byte-compile (lambda (a b &optional c)))
;; => #[(a b &optional c) "\300\207" [nil] 1]

There’s really no shorter way to represent the parameter list because preserving the argument names is critical. Remember that, in dynamic scope, while the function body is being evaluated these variables are globally bound (eww!) to the function’s arguments.

When the function is lexically scoped, the parameter list is packed into an Elisp integer, indicating the counts of the different kinds of parameters: required, &optional, and &rest.

The least significant 7 bits indicate the number of required arguments. Notice that this limits compiled, lexically-scoped functions to 127 required arguments. The 8th bit is the number of &rest arguments (up to 1). The remaining bits indicate the total number of optional and required arguments (not counting &rest). It’s really easy to parse these in your head when viewed as hexadecimal because each portion almost always fits inside its own “digit.”

(byte-compile-make-args-desc '())
;; => #x000  (0 args, 0 rest, 0 required)

(byte-compile-make-args-desc '(a b))
;; => #x202  (2 args, 0 rest, 2 required)

(byte-compile-make-args-desc '(a b &optional c))
;; => #x302  (3 args, 0 rest, 2 required)

(byte-compile-make-args-desc '(a b &optional c &rest d))
;; => #x382  (3 args, 1 rest, 2 required)

The names of the arguments don’t matter in lexical scope: they’re purely positional. This tighter argument specification is one of the reasons lexical scope is faster: the byte-code interpreter doesn’t need to parse the entire lambda list and assign all of the variables on each function invocation.

Unibyte String Byte-code

The second element is a unibyte string — it strictly holds octets and is not to be interpreted as any sort of Unicode encoding. These strings should be created with unibyte-string because string may return a multibyte string. To disambiguate the string type to the lisp reader when higher values are present (> 127), the strings are printed in an escaped octal notation, keeping the string literal inside the ASCII character set.

(unibyte-string 100 200 250)
;; => "d\310\372"

It’s unusual to see a byte-code string that doesn’t end with 135 (#o207, byte-return). Perhaps this should have been implicit? I’ll talk more about the byte-code below.

Constants Vector

The byte-code has very limited operands. Most operands are only a few bits, some fill an entire byte, and occasionally two bytes. The meat of the function that holds all the constants, function symbols, and variables symbols is the constants vector. It’s a normal Elisp vector and can be created with vector or a vector literal. Operands reference either this vector or they index into the stack itself.

(byte-compile (lambda (a b) (my-func b a)))
;; => #[(a b) "\302\134\011\042\207" [b a my-func] 3]

Note that the constants vector lists the variable symbols as well as the external function symbol. If this was a lexically scoped function the constants vector wouldn’t have the variables listed, being only [my-func].

Maximum Stack Usage

This is the maximum stack space used by this byte-code. This value can be derived from the byte-code itself, but it’s pre-computed so that the byte-code interpreter can quickly check for stack overflow. Under-reporting this value is probably another way to crash Emacs.

Docstring

The simplest component and completely optional. It’s either the docstring itself, or if the docstring is especially large it’s a cons cell indicating a compiled .elc and a position for lazy access. Only one position, the start, is needed because the lisp reader is used to load it and it knows how to recognize the end.

Interactive Specification

If this element is present and non-nil then the function is an interactive function. It holds the exactly contents of interactive in the uncompiled function definition.

(byte-compile (lambda (n) (interactive "nNumber: ") n))
;; => #[(n) "\010\207" [n] 1 nil "nNumber: "]

(byte-compile (lambda (n) (interactive (list (read))) n))
;; => #[(n) "\010\207" [n] 1 nil (list (read))]

The interactive expression is always interpreted, never byte-compiled. This is usually fine because, by definition, this code is going to be waiting on user input. However, it slows down keyboard macro playback.

Opcodes

The bulk of the established opcode bytes is for variable, stack, and constant access opcodes, most of which use packed operands.

Except for the last item, each kind of instruction comes in sets of 8. The nth such instruction means access the nth thing. For example, the instruction “2” copies the third stack item to the top of the stack. An instruction of “9” pushes onto the stack the value of the variable named by the second element listed in the constants vector.

However, the 7th and 8th such instructions in each set take an operand byte or two. The 7th instruction takes a 1-byte operand and the 8th takes a 2-byte operand. A 2-byte operand is written in little-endian byte-order regardless of the host platform.

For example, let’s manually craft an instruction that returns the value of the global variable foo. Each opcode has a named constant of byte-X so we don’t have to worry about their actual byte-code number.

(require 'bytecomp)  ; named opcodes

(defvar foo "hello")

(defalias 'get-foo
  (make-byte-code
    #x000                 ; no arguments
    (unibyte-string
      (+ 0 byte-varref)   ; ref variable under first constant
      byte-return)        ; pop and return
    [foo]                 ; constants
    1))                   ; only using 1 stack space

(get-foo)
;; => "hello"

Ta-da! That’s a handcrafted byte-code function. I left a “+ 0” in there so that I can change the offset. This function has the exact same behavior, it’s just less optimal,

(defalias 'get-foo
  (make-byte-code
    #x000
    (unibyte-string
      (+ 3 byte-varref)     ; 4th form of varref
      byte-return)
    [nil nil nil foo]
    1))

If foo was the 10th constant, we would need to use the 1-byte operand version. Again, the same behavior, just less optimal.

(defalias 'get-foo
  (make-byte-code
    #x000
    (unibyte-string
      (+ 6 byte-varref)     ; 7th form of varref
      9                     ; operand, (constant index 9)
      byte-return)
    [nil nil nil nil nil nil nil nil nil foo]
    1))

Dynamically-scoped code makes heavy use of varref but lexically-scoped code rarely uses it (global variables only), instead relying heavily on stack-ref, which is faster. This is where the different calling conventions come into play.

Calling Convention

Each kind of scope gets its own calling convention. Here we finally get to glimpse some of the really great work by Stefan Monnier updating the compiler for lexical scope.

Dynamic Scope Calling Convention

Remembering back to the parameter list element of the byte-code object, dynamically scoped functions keep track of all its argument names. Before executing a function the interpreter examines the lambda list and binds (varbind) every variable globally to an argument.

If the caller was byte-compiled, each argument started on the stack, was popped and bound to a variable, and, to be accessed by the function, will be pushed back right onto the stack (varref). There’s a lot of argument indirection for each function call.

Lexical Scope Calling Convention

With lexical scope, the argument names are not actually bound for the evaluation byte-code. The names are completely gone because the compiler has converted local variables into stack offsets.

When calling a lexically-scoped function, the byte-code interpreter examines the integer parameter descriptor. It checks to make sure the appropriate number of arguments have been provided, and for each unprovided &optional argument it pushes a nil onto the stack. If the function has a &rest parameter, any extra arguments are popped off into a list and that list is pushed onto the stack.

From here the function can access its arguments directly on the stack without any named variable misdirection. It can even consume them directly.

;; -*- lexical-binding: t -*-
(defun foo (x) x)

(symbol-function #'foo)
;; => #[#x101 "\207" [] 2]

The byte-code for foo is a single instruction: return. The function’s argument is already on the stack so it doesn’t have to do anything. Strangely the maximum stack usage element is wrong here (2), but it won’t cause a crash.

;; (As of this writing `byte-compile' always uses dynamic scope.)

(byte-compile 'foo)
;; => #[(x) "\010\207" [x] 1]

It takes longer to set up (x is implicitly bound), it has to make an explicit variable dereference (varref), then it has to clean up by unbinding x (implicit unbind). It’s no wonder lexical scope is faster!

Note that there’s also a disassemble function for examining byte-code, but it only reveals part of the story.

(disassemble #'foo)
;; byte code:
;;   args: (x)
;; 0       varref    x
;; 1       return

Compiler Intermediate “lapcode”

The Elisp byte-compiler has an intermediate language called lapcode (“Lisp Assembly Program”), which is much easier to optimize than byte-code. It’s basically an assembly language built out of s-expressions. Opcodes are referenced by name and operands, including packed operands, are handled whole. Each instruction is a cons cell, (opcode . operand), and a program is a list of these.

Let’s rewrite our last get-foo using lapcode.

(defalias 'get-foo
  (make-byte-code
    #x000
    (byte-compile-lapcode
      '((byte-varref . 9)
        (byte-return)))
    [nil nil nil nil nil nil nil nil nil foo]
    1))

We didn’t have to worry about which form of varref we were using or even how to encode a 2-byte operand. The lapcode “assembler” took care of that detail.

Project Ideas?

The Emacs byte-code compiler and interpreter are fascinating. Having spent time studying them I’m really tempted to build a project on top of it all. Perhaps implementing a programming language that targets the byte-code interpreter, improving compiler optimization, or, for a really big project, JIT compiling Emacs byte-code.

People can write byte-code!

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Chris Wellons

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