Saturday, May 3, 2008

Figuratively Speaking

Bill: Don’t mix your metaphors.
Margot: I’ll mix what I like!
- All About Eve

Today, as a continuation to the last post on Description, a few words on figurative language.

Metaphors, similes, symbols, synecdoche...s, and so on - are tools like any other. They have their advantages and disadvantages. Chief advantage: they add meaning and flavor. Chief disadvantage: used inappropriately or in excess, they can do more damage than a bad plot or poorly drawn characters combined. In general, figurative language should be gauged according to tone, situation, and character. Even if the narration is third-person and you can adopt a more poetic tone than the average character, you still have to examine how the figures affect the narrative.

Subtle differences. Metaphors, similes, etc., are essentially an image conjured up in order to explain something else. They express a wide range of emotions and ideas, so make sure the figure conveys the right connotations: “like a moth to a flame” is not the same as “like a lamb to the slaughter.” “Like a fly hovering over rotting meat” is not the same as “like a shark circling its victim.”

How inappropriate. In Stagecoach, Hatfield describes Mrs. Mallory as an angel in the jungle. Given the western frontier setting, it would have been more appropriate to call her an angel in the wilderness or the desert. It’s not a big deal – I may be the only person in existence who rolled their eyes at that one – but that’s the kind of thing you should try to avoid. Or, for another example, a poor fisherman from a small town without much education probably won’t say things like, “The lives of men shatter like waves upon the rocks.” But he might very well say, “All a man can do is try to stay afloat.”

The Pathetic Fallacy. Or, when nature is not only humanized, but seems directly involved with the character’s state of mind. For example, let’s say a character is heartbroken – so the weather will be either torrential downpours of rain or beautiful sunshine. Usually, the character also has something to say about the state of the weather in relation to his or herself, e.g., “I cried and the skies cried with me.” Or “I cried, but the skies were blithely sunny, unaware of my sorrow.” Some people claim that kind of effect is wonderful, while others claim that it’s cheap sentimentality. Those who regard it as cheap sentimentality also argue that it’s a very narcissistic point of view, which may work nicely if used for characterization, as in first-person narration or dialogue. If, however, a third-person narrator uses it, you may meet with some hostility or rolling of the eyes. As always, it’s up to you.

Cliché alert. Rosy lips, pearly teeth, eyes that twinkle like stars – pretty nice, aren’t they? Unfortunately, they and many others are considered to be tacky, worn-out clichés. This was already true in Shakespeare’s time and we’re already 400 years later. (There’s nothing we can do, with every day that goes by it gets harder and harder to be original.) So my advice is, if you’re using some kind of figure, try to make it more specific, either culturally or in terms of the story itself. Instead of “Her lips were the color of a red rose”: Her lips were like Valentine roses; The color of her lips reminded me of the roses I used to grow; Her lips were like Acrylic #647 Basic Red, which I loved using; Her lips were as red as a 1950s pin-up. Don’t misunderstand me - not everything has to be so specific – but when every figure is generic or clichéd, it gives people the impression that you don’t have much imagination. (Again, however, if you’re using it as a characterization technique, it’s a different story.)

Next time on Technical Saturday... Subject Matter.

2 comments:

Paul Burman said...

Excellent advice, as always, but too easily forgotten at times, so strong is the urge in us to write figuratively (or is that with forked tongue?). Sometimes those little beasts seem to crawl into place without being invited. One of the reasons I enjoy Donne's poetry is because he had the facility to take a single metaphor (or conceit) and stretch it as far as it would go, until it almost (but not quite) snapped.

Now, what have we got there? Tongues, beasts and elastic!

Stella said...

I can't respond to that. I'm too busy laughing...