{"id":42,"date":"2019-09-05T22:52:38","date_gmt":"2019-09-06T02:52:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/chapter\/chapter-four-poetic-language\/"},"modified":"2021-08-24T16:32:48","modified_gmt":"2021-08-24T20:32:48","slug":"chapter-four-poetic-language","status":"publish","type":"chapter","link":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/chapter\/chapter-four-poetic-language\/","title":{"raw":"Poetic Language","rendered":"Poetic Language"},"content":{"raw":"<h1><img class=\"size-medium wp-image-36 alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/kins1100bott\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg-300x171.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"171\" \/><\/h1>\r\nPerhaps you\u2019ve heard the phrase, \u201che (or she) was <em>just being poetic<\/em>.\u201d It\u2019s a phrase you wouldn\u2019t be surprised to hear after someone utters some flowery description of a sunrise or a snowstorm. It describes a use of language that is perhaps pretty but also empty, something meaninglessly ornate. It\u2019s an unfortunate use of the word. Authentic poetic language is very different.\r\n\r\nWe will call \u201cpoetic language,\u201d that language which is most closely associated with poetry. It is also called \u201cfigurative language.\u201d It is opposed to so-called \u201cliteral\u201d language. Understood in the context of actual poetry, poetic language is not nice-sounding words that have no real meaning. Poetic language is the fullest possible language. Poets pack the absolute maximum of meaning (in every sense of the word) into every part of the poem. This does sometimes make poems hard to understand, and that may mislead a hasty person to think there is nothing to understand. In other words, one of the reasons poetry sometimes seems empty is that it is so full.\r\n\r\nIt\u2019s important to understand first that poems are not made entirely of what is properly called \u201cpoetic\u201d language. Poems don\u2019t use only figurative and never literal language. As we\u2019ve said already: the language of poetry is not essentially different from the language of everyday life. That means two things: it means that everything we do when we use language outside of poem, we also do in poems. It also means that everything we do in poems, we also do in everyday language. All of the \u201cdevices\u201d that we properly associate with poetic language are also used regularly in everyday language, spoken or written, and not just by people who have a vast or specialized education or a particular facility with language. \u201cPoetic language\u201d is used by everyone, including you and your three-year old brother. It\u2019s not overstating the case to say that <em>poetry is a part of language itself and that poems are merely the most concentrated expressions of language\u2019s inherent poetry.<\/em> Poets are more conscious of the poetry already in language and more deliberate in their use of it. Poems heighten or intensify certain ordinary ways of using language. We might say that poems put the emphasis on different aspects of language\u2014including the language we call figurative. But they still don\u2019t do anything that we don\u2019t already do every day when we speak.\r\n\r\nAnd yet poems don\u2019t usually feel like everyday language. Everyday language is usually easy to understand. And poems often are not. Everyday language tends to say exactly what it means\u2014or at least tries to. Poems don\u2019t seem to do that. We come back again to a question we addressed in chapter one: Why don\u2019t poems just say what they mean? We began to answer this question when we said that poems are not merely trying to say something. They are also trying to do (or be) something. But that answer is incomplete. We did not explain <em>how<\/em> poems use language to do things. We will begin to answer that question here. We know that poems use sound (such as rhyme), and rhythm and lines. We\u2019ll talk about these other things in later chapters. Here we will be thinking about how poems use figurative language to create meaning and experiences.\r\n\r\n<strong>Literal and Figurative Language<\/strong>\r\n\r\nAs we said, so-called figurative language is usually opposed to what is called literal language. Literal language is language that says exactly and directly what it means; it is language without figures. Figurative language then, as it is usually understood, is language that takes a kind of roundabout path to its meaning. It uses various devices to get you where it wants you to go. That might lead you to believe that figurative language is harder to understand than literal language, and that we should use literal language whenever possible. But that\u2019s not quite true. In everyday usage, figurative language is usually used to help us understand what a literal statement cannot. Its most important job is to make difficult things easier to understand. It is also used this way in poetry.\r\n\r\nFor example, I might say to a child, \u201cA country is like a school with a president instead of a principal.\u201d \u00a0Here I\u2019m using the figure of speech known as <em>analogy<\/em> to bring a new concept to a listener.\r\n\r\nFigurative language is also used to give more weight or authority to a statement. I\u2019m using figurative language if I say, \u201cAccording to the White House\u201d instead of \u201cAccording to the president.\u201d This figure is known as <em>metonymy, <\/em>the substitution of one thing for something closely associated with it.\r\n\r\nIf I say, \u201cThat was the funniest thing in the whole universe,\u201d or \u201cHitler wasn\u2019t very nice to the Jews,\u201d I\u2019m using yet other kinds of figurative language and again getting more out of the words than a literal statement could. The first statement is an example of <em>hyperbole <\/em>(also called exaggeration). The second is the opposite, <em>litotes <\/em>(or understatement).\r\n\r\nWe use many kinds of figurative language every day because we want to do more than just state facts. We use this sort of language all the time, usually without knowing we are doing so. So the good news is that you do understand figurative language; you understand it so naturally that you probably do not even notice that you are interpreting such figures as <strong>irony<\/strong>, <strong>metaphor<\/strong>, <strong>simile<\/strong>, <strong>hyperbole, litotes, personification, apostrophe, metonymy,<\/strong> or <strong>synecdoche<\/strong>. So the first problem is just learning to recognize and name things you are already unconsciously familiar with. The second is to understand how these figures are being used in particular poems. Poems are likely to use figurative language more often and in more nuanced ways than we use it in everyday language.\r\n\r\nThat\u2019s the bad news. Poems don\u2019t always use metaphor to make hard things easier to understand, for example. Poems may use metaphor to make seemingly simple things no longer simple. Remember, poems want you not just to understand but to experience the world in new ways. But we are so accustomed to seeing things however we see them that the work of a poet is quite difficult. We resist without even knowing we are resisting. And we may often fail to see figurative language in a poem for what it is. And even the most experienced readers of poems argue sometimes about what counts as a metaphor or a symbol in a poem and about what a particular figure means. This is something to love about poetry. You get to enter and participate in an ongoing conversation. But to do that, you need to ground yourself in the figures. You need to be able to name and point to them.\r\n\r\nYou might wonder how it is that experienced readers of poems can argue about what counts as a particular figure in a particular poem. This is because the very ideas of \u201cliteral\u201d and \u201cfigurative\u201d are not as clear as we might like to think they are.\r\n\r\nAgain, according to the standard definitions, figurative language is language that states its meaning indirectly. It represents one thing by means of another thing. The \u201cpresident\u201d is called \u201cThe White House\u201d; the ocean is called a \u201cpond.\u201d \u00a0At the same time, literal language is language that states its meaning directly. The president is called the president, and the ocean is called the ocean.\r\n\r\nBut that already creates a problem. In one sense, all language is figurative. The distinction between \u201cliteral\u201d and \u201cfigurative\u201d language does not easily correspond to the facts. Unless the word \u201cocean\u201d is something you could be tempted to swim on, we have to admit that the word ocean is something used to represent an object, and is therefore not literally literal. The word \u201cocean\u201d is not the ocean. It <em>stands for<\/em> or <em>represents<\/em> the idea of the ocean. And representing one thing by another thing is, by definition, what figurative language does.\r\n\r\nWhen we are talking about \u201cliteral\u201d language we are merely separating off from all language that part which seems to be the most direct or transparent, which is to say the most commonly or habitually used representation of a given idea. (If I say, \u201cWhat is that?\u201d and point to the ocean, most people will say, \u201cthe ocean.\u201d So we call that literal.)\r\n\r\nSo, there is no such thing as an absolutely non-figurative language. This means that <em>you can<\/em> <em>never absolutely guarantee that any statement, no matter how literal it seems, is not also figurative.<\/em> Take this simple sentence: \u201cHe fell down the stairs.\u201d You\u2019ll probably want to say, \u201cthat\u2019s obviously literal.\u201d But is it? For it to be literal it has to describe an event that actually happened. Outside of a known context there\u2019s no way to decide whether the sentence is literal or figurative or both (yes, a sentence can be both at the same time). The sentence \u201cHe fell down the stairs\u201d could describe what it felt like for him to have his heart broken, or it may describe the effects of getting a demotion at work: \u201cHe went to the boss thinking he was going to get a promotion. He thought he was going up in the company. Instead, he fell down the stairs.\u201d\r\n\r\nCompare some other common figurative expressions that at first glance sound literal: \u201che was on fire,\u201d \u201che bought the farm,\u201d \u201che got burned,\u201d and \u201che lost his way.\u201d\r\n\r\nSo the difference between literal and figurative language has nothing to do with the words themselves. It has to do entirely with the way the words are used or understood in a specific context. The same sentence which in one context, or read one way, would be literal, in another context or read another way would be figurative. Because one of the most natural things to do with words is use them to represent (to represent either \u201cthings\u201d or \u201cconcepts\u201d) it will never be absolutely possible to prevent any words from being taken figuratively even if they were not meant that way (this is true in everyday language as well as poetry, but it doesn\u2019t usually cause any confusion in everyday language).\r\n\r\nThe poet Marianne Moore, a great baseball fan, once described a new young poet by saying, \u201cHe looks good\u2014on paper.\u201d The effect of the sentence depends upon the reader\u2019s understanding that poems are literally written on paper and that, figuratively speaking, \u201che looks good on paper\u201d means \u201cthe information we have on him tells us he should be good, but we still have to see him perform.\u201d\r\n\r\nThe boundary between literal and figurative isn\u2019t always clear.\r\n\r\nWe also need to say a few words about the distinction we made above, that literal language is \u201cmore direct\u201d than figurative. This may not be true either. So-called \u201cliteral\u201d statements can only be considered more direct in regard to the most superficial meaning of the word \u201cmeaning,\u201d that is, only in regard to the referential content of a statement. But recall what we have been saying all along: that \u201czeroing in on a meaning\u201d is never more than one possibility of language. And it\u2019s never the sole purpose of a poem. Figurative language is therefore not necessarily \u201croundabout.\u201d Figurative language is often more direct than \u201cliteral\u201d language. This is because in a poem the thing we are <em>directing<\/em> our attention at is an emotion or an experience rather than a meaning. If I say \u201cTom Brady was \u2018on fire,\u2019\u201d I\u2019m getting closer to the emotional truth of the event than if I say \u201cTom Brady played exceptionally well last night.\u201d I am also getting closer to the truth of the experience of watching him this way than I would be if I listed his accomplishments. I\u2019m giving an indication of what it was like to watch him play, what it may have been like for him to play. And if that\u2019s what I want to do, the figurative language does it better\u2014more directly.\r\n\r\nEverything is guided by purpose, by what the poem is <em>doing<\/em>.\r\n\r\nCompare these three examples:\r\n\r\n1) She felt sad.\r\n\r\n2) She felt as though she\u2019d just lost her best friend.\r\n\r\n3) She turned away and looked out the window. The world outside became blurry.\r\n\r\nLet us say that example 1) is literal, i.e. that it refers to an actual woman or girl who really feels sad. In that case the statement is referentially true, but it carries little emotional content; example 2) would then be figurative. You will notice that it also captures somewhat more of the case. If true, it is more accurate than example 1) because its figure reproduces more of the emotional quality of the sadness than any purely literal statement could. But because the figure is a clich\u00e9, it still manages less emotional content than a careful writer probably desires. Example 3) is the most emotionally effective. It is the most effective because it is both literal and figurative. Turning away and looking out the window are actions that suggest more meaning than the actions alone convey. And the world did not really become blurry. Really, she started to cry.\r\n\r\nWe can say then that we need both figurative and literal language because they do different jobs. A writer, whether she is a writer of prose or poetry, fiction or nonfiction, will choose the method of expression according to the job that needs to be done.\r\n\r\nNow that we have an understanding of what poetic, or figurative language is, let\u2019s define more precisely the most common examples so that you can practice identifying them when you come across them. They are: <strong>metaphor, simile, metonymy, synecdoche, hyperbole, litotes, irony, apostrophe, symbol, personification.<\/strong>\r\n\r\nHere are some definitions and examples:\r\n\r\n<strong>Metaphor\u2014<\/strong><em>a figure of speech in which one thing (which usually is easy to understand) stands for another thing (which is often more abstract). <\/em><strong>\u00a0<\/strong>You\u2019ll see that the metaphor works a little differently in each of the three examples below. In the first case the metaphor has an obvious, simple relationship to what it refers to. In Bradstreet\u2019s \u201cThe Poet to Her Book,\u201d the title tells us that the poet is talking to her book. We quickly infer upon reading the poem that the book is compared metaphorically to a child.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n<div>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain,<\/div>\r\n<div>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Who after birth didst by my side remain\u2026<\/div>\r\nIf you do not read carefully, you may think Bradstreet is writing to a literal child. But as soon as this mistake is pointed out to you, you realize that she is, of course, pretending that her book is a child. The metaphor works because a book like a child is created by someone (a parent\/author) whom it resembles and who cares for it and whose reputation depends on it.\r\n\r\nOn the other hand, a metaphor may have a less clear relationship between its two parts (its <em>image<\/em> and <em>referent<\/em>, more formally known as its <em>vehicle<\/em> and its <em>tenor<\/em>). In Blake\u2019s \u201cThe Tyger,\u201d we know that the tiger is not quite a literal tiger. But it\u2019s not entirely figurative either. The figure depends for its meaning on the \u201ctigerness\u201d of real tigers. But what exactly the tiger refers to or stands for is never made crystal clear.\r\n\r\n<img class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-37 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/kins1100bott\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2020\/08\/2Blakes-tyger-300x150.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"150\" \/>\r\n<pre style=\"text-align: center\">Blake\u2019s painting of his tiger.<\/pre>\r\n<div class=\"textbox\">Tyger! Tyger! burning bright\r\nIn the forests of the night,\r\nWhat immortal hand or I\r\nCould frame thy fearful symmetry?<\/div>\r\nYou might also notice that within the overall metaphor of the tiger, there are other metaphors such as \u201cburning bright.\u201d \u201cBurning bright\u201d compares our metaphorical tiger to a fire.\u201d But why is the tiger burning? When you read the poem, you will see that this tiger was made with a hammer and chain in a furnace. The metaphor makes a tiger the creation of a blacksmith (the blacksmith being a metaphor for God). This is not how \u201cliteral\u201d tigers are made. Why has Blake chosen these metaphors? What effect do they have on our reading or understanding of the poem? Such questions can be answered\u2014and they can be answered either well or poorly. But the answers will not be as simple or final in this poem as the answer to the question of the child\/book figure in Bradstreet\u2019s poem.\r\n\r\nStill other metaphors may be impossible to pin down precisely. Both of the figures mentioned so far evoke emotion or feeling as well as meaning. But it is possible to take a figure so far into the emotional that it loses all sense of the intellectual meaning, as some claim T.S. Eliot does in this image from a poem not on our syllabus,\r\n\r\n<strong>The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock<\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,\r\nThe yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,\r\nLicked its tongue into the corners of the evening,\r\nLingered upon the pools that stand in drains,\r\nLet fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,\r\nSlipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,\r\nAnd seeing that it as a soft October night,\r\nCurled once around the house, and fell asleep.\r\n\r\nIt\u2019s clear that the poet is comparing fog to a cat (this is an <strong>implied metaphor <\/strong>because the cat is invoked without ever being named). The \u201ccatness\u201d of fog is however far less obvious than the fearful power of blacksmith\/God is to a tiger or the mother to child relationship of an author for her book. Moreover, this fog-cat metaphor is stretched out to such an absurd length that it begins to lose sense. We learn very much less about fog by comparing it to a cat than we learn about books by comparing them to children or about God by comparing him to a blacksmith.\r\n\r\nBut the difficulties we may have with the cat-fog metaphor doesn\u2019t mean that the poet has failed. In the context of the poem it is clear that the metaphor is meant to reveal more about the state of mind of the title character than about the catness of fog.\r\n\r\nWe\u2019ve barely begun to discuss the intricacies of metaphor. But that will be enough for now. We could spend the whole book on the subject. Many books have been written trying to understand all there is to understand about metaphor. We'll go through the rest more quickly.\r\n\r\n<strong>Simile.<\/strong> Simile is very much like a metaphor but it uses an explicit word, usually \u201clike\u201d or \u201cas,\u201d to compare one thing to another. So instead of saying \u201cMy book is my child,\u201d You say, \u201cMy book is <em>like<\/em> a child.\u201d\r\n\r\n<strong>Metonymy<\/strong> and <strong>Synecdoche<\/strong>. Metonymy is the substitution of a name of an object closely associated with the word you have in mind for that word: \u201cWhite House\u201d for president. \u201cCrown\u201d for king. \u201cThe sweat of the brow\u201d for \u201chard labor.\u201d\r\n\r\nSynecdoche is similar to metonymy; it is the substitution of a name of some part of a thing for the whole thing: You say \u201ctrunk\u201d for tree in a sentence such as \u201cWe have fourteen trunks on our property,\u201d or \u201cwheels\u201d for \u201ccar,\u201d in the expression, \u201ca nice set of wheels.\u201d With synecdoche you can also do the opposite and choose a whole to name a part. You can call a police officer \u201cthe law,\u201d for example, as in \u201cThe law is coming to give me a speeding ticket.\u201d\r\n\r\n<strong>Hyperbole<\/strong>. We mentioned this above. It is exaggeration. \u201cThis book weighs a ton.\u201d\r\n\r\n<strong>Litotes<\/strong>. This too we mentioned above: understatement. Of home run slugger Barry Bonds, \u201cHe\u2019s not the weakest person who ever played the game.\u201d\r\n\r\n<strong>Irony<\/strong>: saying one thing but meaning another, generally the opposite. Saying of a beautiful painting, \u201cOh, isn\u2019t that ugly.\u201d In irony we perceive that the words deliberately fail to coincide with their usual meaning.\r\n\r\n<strong>Apostrophe<\/strong>: An apostrophe we speak to an inanimate object or an absent person. \u201cWestern wind, when will thou blow?\u201d I'm talking to the wind.\r\n\r\n<strong>Symbol<\/strong>: The use of a verbal object or quality of an object to stand for an abstract idea. The black hats worn by bad guys in Westerns and the white hats worn by Good Guys are symbolic of evil and good. Notice that they are not metaphors, but they could be metonymy, since we somewhat arbitrarily associate white with good and black with evil.\r\n\r\n<strong>Personification<\/strong>: Ascribing the qualities of a human being to an inanimate object or an abstraction. \u201cThe waves sang to the moon.\u201d (There's a fancier word for this as well: <em>anthropomorphism<\/em>. It's a fun word to throw around at parties.)\r\n\r\nTwo more notes: First, these are dictionary kinds of definitions. A poet\u2019s use of figures of speech may not be as straightforward as these definitions may lead you to believe. Second, a given example of figurative language may qualify as more than one type of language. A symbol can be metonymic and ironic all at the same time. I may want to use a sword to symbolize the sexual prowess of a knight, but since a sword is also associated with knights, it may also be said to be a metonymy. I may say \u201cthe sword did battle with the harem.\u201d If the sword turns out to be fake, rubber perhaps, and flops down when it is pulled it from its scabbard, the symbol of a rubber sword becomes ironic. Poets often use such complex figures.\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;\r\n\r\n&nbsp;","rendered":"<h1><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-36 alignleft\" src=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/kins1100bott\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg-300x171.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"171\" srcset=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg-300x171.jpg 300w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg-65x37.jpg 65w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg-225x128.jpg 225w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg-350x199.jpg 350w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2019\/09\/Iceberg.jpg 527w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/h1>\n<p>Perhaps you\u2019ve heard the phrase, \u201che (or she) was <em>just being poetic<\/em>.\u201d It\u2019s a phrase you wouldn\u2019t be surprised to hear after someone utters some flowery description of a sunrise or a snowstorm. It describes a use of language that is perhaps pretty but also empty, something meaninglessly ornate. It\u2019s an unfortunate use of the word. Authentic poetic language is very different.<\/p>\n<p>We will call \u201cpoetic language,\u201d that language which is most closely associated with poetry. It is also called \u201cfigurative language.\u201d It is opposed to so-called \u201cliteral\u201d language. Understood in the context of actual poetry, poetic language is not nice-sounding words that have no real meaning. Poetic language is the fullest possible language. Poets pack the absolute maximum of meaning (in every sense of the word) into every part of the poem. This does sometimes make poems hard to understand, and that may mislead a hasty person to think there is nothing to understand. In other words, one of the reasons poetry sometimes seems empty is that it is so full.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s important to understand first that poems are not made entirely of what is properly called \u201cpoetic\u201d language. Poems don\u2019t use only figurative and never literal language. As we\u2019ve said already: the language of poetry is not essentially different from the language of everyday life. That means two things: it means that everything we do when we use language outside of poem, we also do in poems. It also means that everything we do in poems, we also do in everyday language. All of the \u201cdevices\u201d that we properly associate with poetic language are also used regularly in everyday language, spoken or written, and not just by people who have a vast or specialized education or a particular facility with language. \u201cPoetic language\u201d is used by everyone, including you and your three-year old brother. It\u2019s not overstating the case to say that <em>poetry is a part of language itself and that poems are merely the most concentrated expressions of language\u2019s inherent poetry.<\/em> Poets are more conscious of the poetry already in language and more deliberate in their use of it. Poems heighten or intensify certain ordinary ways of using language. We might say that poems put the emphasis on different aspects of language\u2014including the language we call figurative. But they still don\u2019t do anything that we don\u2019t already do every day when we speak.<\/p>\n<p>And yet poems don\u2019t usually feel like everyday language. Everyday language is usually easy to understand. And poems often are not. Everyday language tends to say exactly what it means\u2014or at least tries to. Poems don\u2019t seem to do that. We come back again to a question we addressed in chapter one: Why don\u2019t poems just say what they mean? We began to answer this question when we said that poems are not merely trying to say something. They are also trying to do (or be) something. But that answer is incomplete. We did not explain <em>how<\/em> poems use language to do things. We will begin to answer that question here. We know that poems use sound (such as rhyme), and rhythm and lines. We\u2019ll talk about these other things in later chapters. Here we will be thinking about how poems use figurative language to create meaning and experiences.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Literal and Figurative Language<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>As we said, so-called figurative language is usually opposed to what is called literal language. Literal language is language that says exactly and directly what it means; it is language without figures. Figurative language then, as it is usually understood, is language that takes a kind of roundabout path to its meaning. It uses various devices to get you where it wants you to go. That might lead you to believe that figurative language is harder to understand than literal language, and that we should use literal language whenever possible. But that\u2019s not quite true. In everyday usage, figurative language is usually used to help us understand what a literal statement cannot. Its most important job is to make difficult things easier to understand. It is also used this way in poetry.<\/p>\n<p>For example, I might say to a child, \u201cA country is like a school with a president instead of a principal.\u201d \u00a0Here I\u2019m using the figure of speech known as <em>analogy<\/em> to bring a new concept to a listener.<\/p>\n<p>Figurative language is also used to give more weight or authority to a statement. I\u2019m using figurative language if I say, \u201cAccording to the White House\u201d instead of \u201cAccording to the president.\u201d This figure is known as <em>metonymy, <\/em>the substitution of one thing for something closely associated with it.<\/p>\n<p>If I say, \u201cThat was the funniest thing in the whole universe,\u201d or \u201cHitler wasn\u2019t very nice to the Jews,\u201d I\u2019m using yet other kinds of figurative language and again getting more out of the words than a literal statement could. The first statement is an example of <em>hyperbole <\/em>(also called exaggeration). The second is the opposite, <em>litotes <\/em>(or understatement).<\/p>\n<p>We use many kinds of figurative language every day because we want to do more than just state facts. We use this sort of language all the time, usually without knowing we are doing so. So the good news is that you do understand figurative language; you understand it so naturally that you probably do not even notice that you are interpreting such figures as <strong>irony<\/strong>, <strong>metaphor<\/strong>, <strong>simile<\/strong>, <strong>hyperbole, litotes, personification, apostrophe, metonymy,<\/strong> or <strong>synecdoche<\/strong>. So the first problem is just learning to recognize and name things you are already unconsciously familiar with. The second is to understand how these figures are being used in particular poems. Poems are likely to use figurative language more often and in more nuanced ways than we use it in everyday language.<\/p>\n<p>That\u2019s the bad news. Poems don\u2019t always use metaphor to make hard things easier to understand, for example. Poems may use metaphor to make seemingly simple things no longer simple. Remember, poems want you not just to understand but to experience the world in new ways. But we are so accustomed to seeing things however we see them that the work of a poet is quite difficult. We resist without even knowing we are resisting. And we may often fail to see figurative language in a poem for what it is. And even the most experienced readers of poems argue sometimes about what counts as a metaphor or a symbol in a poem and about what a particular figure means. This is something to love about poetry. You get to enter and participate in an ongoing conversation. But to do that, you need to ground yourself in the figures. You need to be able to name and point to them.<\/p>\n<p>You might wonder how it is that experienced readers of poems can argue about what counts as a particular figure in a particular poem. This is because the very ideas of \u201cliteral\u201d and \u201cfigurative\u201d are not as clear as we might like to think they are.<\/p>\n<p>Again, according to the standard definitions, figurative language is language that states its meaning indirectly. It represents one thing by means of another thing. The \u201cpresident\u201d is called \u201cThe White House\u201d; the ocean is called a \u201cpond.\u201d \u00a0At the same time, literal language is language that states its meaning directly. The president is called the president, and the ocean is called the ocean.<\/p>\n<p>But that already creates a problem. In one sense, all language is figurative. The distinction between \u201cliteral\u201d and \u201cfigurative\u201d language does not easily correspond to the facts. Unless the word \u201cocean\u201d is something you could be tempted to swim on, we have to admit that the word ocean is something used to represent an object, and is therefore not literally literal. The word \u201cocean\u201d is not the ocean. It <em>stands for<\/em> or <em>represents<\/em> the idea of the ocean. And representing one thing by another thing is, by definition, what figurative language does.<\/p>\n<p>When we are talking about \u201cliteral\u201d language we are merely separating off from all language that part which seems to be the most direct or transparent, which is to say the most commonly or habitually used representation of a given idea. (If I say, \u201cWhat is that?\u201d and point to the ocean, most people will say, \u201cthe ocean.\u201d So we call that literal.)<\/p>\n<p>So, there is no such thing as an absolutely non-figurative language. This means that <em>you can<\/em> <em>never absolutely guarantee that any statement, no matter how literal it seems, is not also figurative.<\/em> Take this simple sentence: \u201cHe fell down the stairs.\u201d You\u2019ll probably want to say, \u201cthat\u2019s obviously literal.\u201d But is it? For it to be literal it has to describe an event that actually happened. Outside of a known context there\u2019s no way to decide whether the sentence is literal or figurative or both (yes, a sentence can be both at the same time). The sentence \u201cHe fell down the stairs\u201d could describe what it felt like for him to have his heart broken, or it may describe the effects of getting a demotion at work: \u201cHe went to the boss thinking he was going to get a promotion. He thought he was going up in the company. Instead, he fell down the stairs.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Compare some other common figurative expressions that at first glance sound literal: \u201che was on fire,\u201d \u201che bought the farm,\u201d \u201che got burned,\u201d and \u201che lost his way.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>So the difference between literal and figurative language has nothing to do with the words themselves. It has to do entirely with the way the words are used or understood in a specific context. The same sentence which in one context, or read one way, would be literal, in another context or read another way would be figurative. Because one of the most natural things to do with words is use them to represent (to represent either \u201cthings\u201d or \u201cconcepts\u201d) it will never be absolutely possible to prevent any words from being taken figuratively even if they were not meant that way (this is true in everyday language as well as poetry, but it doesn\u2019t usually cause any confusion in everyday language).<\/p>\n<p>The poet Marianne Moore, a great baseball fan, once described a new young poet by saying, \u201cHe looks good\u2014on paper.\u201d The effect of the sentence depends upon the reader\u2019s understanding that poems are literally written on paper and that, figuratively speaking, \u201che looks good on paper\u201d means \u201cthe information we have on him tells us he should be good, but we still have to see him perform.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>The boundary between literal and figurative isn\u2019t always clear.<\/p>\n<p>We also need to say a few words about the distinction we made above, that literal language is \u201cmore direct\u201d than figurative. This may not be true either. So-called \u201cliteral\u201d statements can only be considered more direct in regard to the most superficial meaning of the word \u201cmeaning,\u201d that is, only in regard to the referential content of a statement. But recall what we have been saying all along: that \u201czeroing in on a meaning\u201d is never more than one possibility of language. And it\u2019s never the sole purpose of a poem. Figurative language is therefore not necessarily \u201croundabout.\u201d Figurative language is often more direct than \u201cliteral\u201d language. This is because in a poem the thing we are <em>directing<\/em> our attention at is an emotion or an experience rather than a meaning. If I say \u201cTom Brady was \u2018on fire,\u2019\u201d I\u2019m getting closer to the emotional truth of the event than if I say \u201cTom Brady played exceptionally well last night.\u201d I am also getting closer to the truth of the experience of watching him this way than I would be if I listed his accomplishments. I\u2019m giving an indication of what it was like to watch him play, what it may have been like for him to play. And if that\u2019s what I want to do, the figurative language does it better\u2014more directly.<\/p>\n<p>Everything is guided by purpose, by what the poem is <em>doing<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>Compare these three examples:<\/p>\n<p>1) She felt sad.<\/p>\n<p>2) She felt as though she\u2019d just lost her best friend.<\/p>\n<p>3) She turned away and looked out the window. The world outside became blurry.<\/p>\n<p>Let us say that example 1) is literal, i.e. that it refers to an actual woman or girl who really feels sad. In that case the statement is referentially true, but it carries little emotional content; example 2) would then be figurative. You will notice that it also captures somewhat more of the case. If true, it is more accurate than example 1) because its figure reproduces more of the emotional quality of the sadness than any purely literal statement could. But because the figure is a clich\u00e9, it still manages less emotional content than a careful writer probably desires. Example 3) is the most emotionally effective. It is the most effective because it is both literal and figurative. Turning away and looking out the window are actions that suggest more meaning than the actions alone convey. And the world did not really become blurry. Really, she started to cry.<\/p>\n<p>We can say then that we need both figurative and literal language because they do different jobs. A writer, whether she is a writer of prose or poetry, fiction or nonfiction, will choose the method of expression according to the job that needs to be done.<\/p>\n<p>Now that we have an understanding of what poetic, or figurative language is, let\u2019s define more precisely the most common examples so that you can practice identifying them when you come across them. They are: <strong>metaphor, simile, metonymy, synecdoche, hyperbole, litotes, irony, apostrophe, symbol, personification.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Here are some definitions and examples:<\/p>\n<p><strong>Metaphor\u2014<\/strong><em>a figure of speech in which one thing (which usually is easy to understand) stands for another thing (which is often more abstract). <\/em><strong>\u00a0<\/strong>You\u2019ll see that the metaphor works a little differently in each of the three examples below. In the first case the metaphor has an obvious, simple relationship to what it refers to. In Bradstreet\u2019s \u201cThe Poet to Her Book,\u201d the title tells us that the poet is talking to her book. We quickly infer upon reading the poem that the book is compared metaphorically to a child.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<div>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain,<\/div>\n<div>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Who after birth didst by my side remain\u2026<\/div>\n<p>If you do not read carefully, you may think Bradstreet is writing to a literal child. But as soon as this mistake is pointed out to you, you realize that she is, of course, pretending that her book is a child. The metaphor works because a book like a child is created by someone (a parent\/author) whom it resembles and who cares for it and whose reputation depends on it.<\/p>\n<p>On the other hand, a metaphor may have a less clear relationship between its two parts (its <em>image<\/em> and <em>referent<\/em>, more formally known as its <em>vehicle<\/em> and its <em>tenor<\/em>). In Blake\u2019s \u201cThe Tyger,\u201d we know that the tiger is not quite a literal tiger. But it\u2019s not entirely figurative either. The figure depends for its meaning on the \u201ctigerness\u201d of real tigers. But what exactly the tiger refers to or stands for is never made crystal clear.<\/p>\n<p><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-medium wp-image-37 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/kins1100bott\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2020\/08\/2Blakes-tyger-300x150.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"300\" height=\"150\" srcset=\"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2020\/08\/2Blakes-tyger-300x150.jpg 300w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2020\/08\/2Blakes-tyger-65x33.jpg 65w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2020\/08\/2Blakes-tyger-225x113.jpg 225w, https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/1103\/2020\/08\/2Blakes-tyger.jpg 320w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/><\/p>\n<pre style=\"text-align: center\">Blake\u2019s painting of his tiger.<\/pre>\n<div class=\"textbox\">Tyger! Tyger! burning bright<br \/>\nIn the forests of the night,<br \/>\nWhat immortal hand or I<br \/>\nCould frame thy fearful symmetry?<\/div>\n<p>You might also notice that within the overall metaphor of the tiger, there are other metaphors such as \u201cburning bright.\u201d \u201cBurning bright\u201d compares our metaphorical tiger to a fire.\u201d But why is the tiger burning? When you read the poem, you will see that this tiger was made with a hammer and chain in a furnace. The metaphor makes a tiger the creation of a blacksmith (the blacksmith being a metaphor for God). This is not how \u201cliteral\u201d tigers are made. Why has Blake chosen these metaphors? What effect do they have on our reading or understanding of the poem? Such questions can be answered\u2014and they can be answered either well or poorly. But the answers will not be as simple or final in this poem as the answer to the question of the child\/book figure in Bradstreet\u2019s poem.<\/p>\n<p>Still other metaphors may be impossible to pin down precisely. Both of the figures mentioned so far evoke emotion or feeling as well as meaning. But it is possible to take a figure so far into the emotional that it loses all sense of the intellectual meaning, as some claim T.S. Eliot does in this image from a poem not on our syllabus,<\/p>\n<p><strong>The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,<br \/>\nThe yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,<br \/>\nLicked its tongue into the corners of the evening,<br \/>\nLingered upon the pools that stand in drains,<br \/>\nLet fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,<br \/>\nSlipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,<br \/>\nAnd seeing that it as a soft October night,<br \/>\nCurled once around the house, and fell asleep.<\/p>\n<p>It\u2019s clear that the poet is comparing fog to a cat (this is an <strong>implied metaphor <\/strong>because the cat is invoked without ever being named). The \u201ccatness\u201d of fog is however far less obvious than the fearful power of blacksmith\/God is to a tiger or the mother to child relationship of an author for her book. Moreover, this fog-cat metaphor is stretched out to such an absurd length that it begins to lose sense. We learn very much less about fog by comparing it to a cat than we learn about books by comparing them to children or about God by comparing him to a blacksmith.<\/p>\n<p>But the difficulties we may have with the cat-fog metaphor doesn\u2019t mean that the poet has failed. In the context of the poem it is clear that the metaphor is meant to reveal more about the state of mind of the title character than about the catness of fog.<\/p>\n<p>We\u2019ve barely begun to discuss the intricacies of metaphor. But that will be enough for now. We could spend the whole book on the subject. Many books have been written trying to understand all there is to understand about metaphor. We&#8217;ll go through the rest more quickly.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Simile.<\/strong> Simile is very much like a metaphor but it uses an explicit word, usually \u201clike\u201d or \u201cas,\u201d to compare one thing to another. So instead of saying \u201cMy book is my child,\u201d You say, \u201cMy book is <em>like<\/em> a child.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>Metonymy<\/strong> and <strong>Synecdoche<\/strong>. Metonymy is the substitution of a name of an object closely associated with the word you have in mind for that word: \u201cWhite House\u201d for president. \u201cCrown\u201d for king. \u201cThe sweat of the brow\u201d for \u201chard labor.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Synecdoche is similar to metonymy; it is the substitution of a name of some part of a thing for the whole thing: You say \u201ctrunk\u201d for tree in a sentence such as \u201cWe have fourteen trunks on our property,\u201d or \u201cwheels\u201d for \u201ccar,\u201d in the expression, \u201ca nice set of wheels.\u201d With synecdoche you can also do the opposite and choose a whole to name a part. You can call a police officer \u201cthe law,\u201d for example, as in \u201cThe law is coming to give me a speeding ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>Hyperbole<\/strong>. We mentioned this above. It is exaggeration. \u201cThis book weighs a ton.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>Litotes<\/strong>. This too we mentioned above: understatement. Of home run slugger Barry Bonds, \u201cHe\u2019s not the weakest person who ever played the game.\u201d<\/p>\n<p><strong>Irony<\/strong>: saying one thing but meaning another, generally the opposite. Saying of a beautiful painting, \u201cOh, isn\u2019t that ugly.\u201d In irony we perceive that the words deliberately fail to coincide with their usual meaning.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Apostrophe<\/strong>: An apostrophe we speak to an inanimate object or an absent person. \u201cWestern wind, when will thou blow?\u201d I&#8217;m talking to the wind.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Symbol<\/strong>: The use of a verbal object or quality of an object to stand for an abstract idea. The black hats worn by bad guys in Westerns and the white hats worn by Good Guys are symbolic of evil and good. Notice that they are not metaphors, but they could be metonymy, since we somewhat arbitrarily associate white with good and black with evil.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Personification<\/strong>: Ascribing the qualities of a human being to an inanimate object or an abstraction. \u201cThe waves sang to the moon.\u201d (There&#8217;s a fancier word for this as well: <em>anthropomorphism<\/em>. It&#8217;s a fun word to throw around at parties.)<\/p>\n<p>Two more notes: First, these are dictionary kinds of definitions. A poet\u2019s use of figures of speech may not be as straightforward as these definitions may lead you to believe. Second, a given example of figurative language may qualify as more than one type of language. A symbol can be metonymic and ironic all at the same time. I may want to use a sword to symbolize the sexual prowess of a knight, but since a sword is also associated with knights, it may also be said to be a metonymy. I may say \u201cthe sword did battle with the harem.\u201d If the sword turns out to be fake, rubber perhaps, and flops down when it is pulled it from its scabbard, the symbol of a rubber sword becomes ironic. Poets often use such complex figures.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":79,"menu_order":2,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"Poetic Language","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-42","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry"],"part":18,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/42","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/79"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/42\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":115,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/42\/revisions\/115"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/18"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/42\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=42"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=42"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=42"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.bccampus.ca\/engl1130\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=42"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}