Date:         Tue, 4 Feb 1997 22:59:45 EST
From: "last tink in the pool is a fool..." <mbarker@MIT.EDU>
Subject:      Re: f: Bill's theories

having knot much todo tonight, I'll offer a few words for the
ranting...

:) Date:    Tue, 04 Feb 1997 16:18:19 EST
:) From:    Bill Lantry <wlantry@OWL.ENGL.SRU.EDU>
:)
:) What makes a good metaphor?
:)

I shall pretend that I fail to feel the bite of the hook, the yank of
the line, and cheerfully ponds (apres, je responds.  but first, one
must ponds):

a good metaphor, one perceives, (or perhaps persuades?  no, the
friends of little animals will not allow us that hide) may begin with
a tiny petit four.  the cake, spongy, light, and baked to perfection
in an oven this very morning.  the layers of frosting, sweet marbled
taste of butter, whipped and beaten to tantalize the tongue.  And
overall, the hard shell of sweetness, waiting for your bite, for your
teeth to sink in and grind away...  this tiny petit four, when well
done and lovingly detailed, may well confound the rational mind as the
sweet taste of fictive reality deludes the senses into licking those
lips...even smelling the faint odor of a european bakery, with the
rich scent of coffee and the fine flaky hint of pastry cooking...

So, the humble petit four may be a reasonably good metaphor, if you
like them.  Of course, if you don't care for them, they might be a bad
metaphor.

You might prefer fresh fruit, for example.

Naturally, I am tempted to ask whether good and bad are the right
venue for this discussion.  I mean, angels or devils would hardly seem
like the best measure of a metaphor, even if we had some idea of
exactly how the little twisted knots of words and referents grow.  We
could stand them up against the nearest doorjamb and see which one is
taller, or perhaps stretch a string around them and see which is
stouter or has the larger chest?

I suppose you could race them, and see which one gets to ludicrous first?

metaphor?  that means (according to the OAD) "the application of a
word or phrase to something that it does not apply to literally, in
order to indicate a comparison with the literal usage..."

I seem to remember fairly recently trying to decipher the bon mot
"literally" and growing quite faint as I realized that out of the
eight or nine available denotations of the term, one suggested that
other words always have a single, primary meaning.  Ironic, isn't it?

So a metaphor is deliberately violating the bond of word and
denotation, the chains that tie one level of abstraction so directly
and innocently with the one and only possibly linguistic expression
for that chunk of reality (or that ideal hidden in the shadows of our
cavern?)?

[I metaphor the other day, and he introduced me to his friends, the
three and five, hanging out down on Sesame Street with the old Count.]

:) are metaphors even possible?

Given the shimmering of linguistic terms as they slide and slither
across the rugged differentiations we love to ignore, I might ask if
there is any linguistic expression which is not metaphoric!  perhaps
the only question is how blatant the disconnections, how unfamiliar
the forced relations of expected referents and metaphoric victim, tied
into that straightjacket, with face masked in the guise of another,
hands bound into the gestures of the overlaid persona, and feet
unwilling tapping to the drums of an indifferent dancer?

I suppose it is better that the metaphor be even possible than odd
possible, or that unlikely edge of the possible, the impossible.

hum...the OAD says possible is "capable of existing or happening or
being done or used etc."  This seems to indicate some degree of
existence or reality is necessary for things to be possible.

Words, and phrases, along with their referents, denotations, and all
the rest of the linguistic menagery (much bigger than a menage a
trois) would seem to be social conventions, agreed to and shared, but
somewhat lacking in existential "out there point at it" being, I
think.  The metaphor, even bagged and ready for mounting on your local
trophy plaque, shares in this lack of substance, in this matter of
being a kind of shared illusion which we agree to, rather than having
the kind of boisterous external conviction that a rock might have as
it bounces off our noggin, forcing us to admit that there is something
there.

And I think, lest I confuse the matter farther, I will stop here, and
ask the cardinal question (please don your red robes, Bill):

What do you mean when you question the metaphor?  Should it be
thrown in prison, perhaps sentenced to life?  Or do you merely
want to ask it out for a date?

tink