According to Aristotle, the ability to create memorable metaphors is "a sign of genius, since a good metaphor implies an intuitive perception of the similarity in dissimilars." If "the greatest thing by far is to be a master of metaphor," then John McPhee is the greatest thing by far. He tosses off gems lesser writers would have showcased, thereby imbuing his metaphors with two qualities metaphors must possess in LJ: concission and explanatory power. McPhee's metaphors are unique both in the sense that rarely do they belong to the categories of dead ("the roots of the problem") or dying ("her mind is like a steel trap") metaphors, i.e. metaphors whose metaphorical nature has been dessicated by hundreds of years of repetition such that they're a normal part of the language now.
Here's an example (adapted from George Lakoff and Mark Turner's Metaphors We Live By) of two dead metaphors:
- We must explore the issue.
- We must go into the issue more deeply.
Though neither seems like it, both of these sentences are metaphors of journeying. In the first example, we "explore" the issue by moving across it as we would move across the surface of the earth; in the second, we delve into as spelunkers would delve into the earth. While these dead metaphors litter the language, they can sometimes be revivified by combining them in interesting ways. (We'll discuss this in more detail Monday.) They can also be combined in not-so-interesting ways. To wit:
We must explore the issues at a deeper level.
In fact, the more dead metaphors you combine in a single sentence, the less likely that sentence is to be anything other than a string of cliches. We'll talk more about metaphors (find, analyzing and constructing them) as the quarter continues, but for now I want you to think (and write) about what makes the following metaphor by McPhee unique:
The Mississippi River, with its sand and silt, has created most of Louisiana, and it could not have done so by remaining in one channel. If it had, southern Louisiana would be a long narrow peninsula reaching into the Gulf of Mexico. Southern Louisiana exists in its present form because the Mississippi River has jumped here and there within an arc of about two hundred miles wide, like a pianist playing with one hand...
I noticed that metaphor while reading the article, earlier, and thought that someone should mention his skillful handling of metaphors. That particular example literally "jumped" off the page because it's such a lively image. It brings to mind several sensations, like sound (music), touch (the bouncing of the pianist's hand against the keys), and sight (that same hand jumping here and there). It really gives the reader a "moving image" impression of a noisy, living river busy with the act of creating Louisiana. With this and other examples, McPhee really personifies Nature and the river(s), so it seems we're dealing with characters in a story more than a setting in which characters act.
Posted by: Beth Black | October 02, 2005 at 04:02 PM
I think that this metaphor is unique because with great ease it explores the issue. When I first read this I didn't even think of it as a metaphor. When I think of metaphor's I think of very obvious, descriptive sentances, that are usually short. In John Mcphee's metaphor this is not the case. He brillantly gives the reader a great deal of information on the issue and then in the last line, ties it all into a typical metaphor. I liked that way that he did this because the passage reads more like a story than an important fact.
Posted by: Charla Batey | October 02, 2005 at 09:34 PM
I definitely agree with Beth and Charla on this one. I mean this guy has such an AMAZING mastery of metaphors that he puts some great poets to shame easily. Just that one example of the river "jumping... like a pianist playing with one hand..." completely encompasses and illustrates his point in a way that only he can. It's intensely visual and the imagery is spot on - we all know exactly what image he is trying to evoke... that rapid, spontaneous, jerking that one hand would have to preform over the keys of a piano. Yet, it is amazing that that image can to him as he was writing this piece. It is truly artful and makes the piece more lifelike and intriguing to the audience when it it more tangible to them.
Posted by: Jasmine Comer | October 03, 2005 at 12:11 AM
You definitely get a sense that the essay McPhee wrote seemed almost story-like except the fact that it was all created by facts. I too, noticed the piano metaphor because I could actually visualize a pianist fluidly moving back and forth on the keys, changing the rhythm and notes just as the river, "mother nature", has the ability to do. McPhee certainly uses metaphors and it really does seem that he personifies things of nature which makes it even more unique.
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