Metaphores. You can find the word on the back of any moving van in Greece, where it carries its original meaning, to carry across. The Latin equivalent was transfer, and there you have the deep meaning of metaphor. A metaphor is something that transfers meaning to a new place.
In his fascinating book The Unfolding of Language, Guy Deutscher explains this background only after he has described the long, depressing process which linguists went through as they studied languages only finding evidence of their decay. For many years it seemed that all languages were doomed to disintegrate as people took shortcuts and chopped words down into easier packages. Ancient languages seemed harder and more complex than modern ones and they could find no evidence of any process that built up languages.
But it turns out that one of the primary mechanisms by which languages are built is metaphor, wherein two words are placed together with a novel, poetic sort of power. If the metaphor captures the public imagination and becomes a steadily-used piece of language, it will eventually cease to be new or to have any special power. At that point it will be ready to cut and spliced into one new word. Meta-fores. Trans-fer. And so it is that those with a poetic bent are the creators of language, the gods of word, while the rest of us speak our language, any language, which is now littered with dead metaphors we never know we are trampling upon.
There is something in us which recognizes the power of this process and is attracted to it. If we ever get over the strangeness of poetry and how it jolts us out of our learned language sensibilities, we can become addicts of reading and then of writing poetry. It's a rarified place to be with virtually no money to be made, but with the power to alter the course of language, it is little wonder that so many Gather members seek out and cling to its poetry, recognizing the stars of this little world and sometimes daring to cast our metaphors into the spinning sea of words. At the very least, we try hard to find the comments which can add additional power to the original poem, wanting to be part of the flow which it created. Metaphor creation is a process of taking words which describe our physical world and moving them into an abstract concept. As such, metaphor is the path by which we can explore that which is vague, because it is not physical. With it we can build up a vocabulary which allows us to talk about that which we do not understand because it lives in our heads and not in the world of our physical senses.
I myself have snuck a dry toe into this foaming brine, most recently as part of Ed Nudelman's metaphor contest for his poetry correspondent series. He got me thinking about how people might have first come upon this idea of transferring meaning, and my imagination took me to that substance which is likely the ultimate agent of transfer, constantly working inside and outside of us to remake the world in every way in every moment.
The First Metaphor
The seeds of water ran down the hill
And into the valley where one
Woman listened unconsciously
Until the day she dipped her pot
And she knew: "It talks to me!"
Her people loved the shaded meaning
And they called her Talking Water
They became the Talking Water people
Till the day the metaphor dried
Out of longing for new sounds of meaning
New seeds of words were placed together
And so the water lost its power when
Mystery left the sound of language
That flowed with the water on the hill
Gerry Wass 2/27/07


Comments: 18
I love metaphors. In fact, I think my brain is programed to find a metaphor for every word or phrase that enters it. To me, metaphors are verbal pictures and ,as such, tell a complete story with the bare minimum of words. The stories that tell the most lasting tales always seem to have the least amount of words. Nice job.
This must explain why you enjoy doing Corndog, now that I think about it. Metaphors as verbal pictures is a helpful concept to me and they can help us reduce the verbage, another idea I had not thought about. I've always struggled with metaphors a lot and feel like I'm finally starting to break through to understanding them which is an exciting thing for me. Thank you for your comment!
Be TWEEN worlds,
Be TWILIGHT DAWN
be META,
for why?
4 Y.
No exaggeration, and I am.
Robert--Thank you for your kindness. So do you feel like some metaphors, like rock formations, are more resistent to the processes of erosion? As an abstract concept, "dream" had to arise from some metaphor using physical concepts, although I don't know its exact origin. If you are right, what would make an abstract concept so resistant to decay?
George--I have a feeling that your awareness of your own metaphoric process has intensified a bit more in the last day, as you seek to define abstract ideas more precisely. Thanks for coming back to read again!
As for "dream," here's what I found: it comes from the Middle English dreme from the Old English dream, meaning joy, and influenced by the Old Norse draumr, a dream. The spelling has stayed fairly close over a thousand years, but the meaning has evolved. If I'm reading this right, to dream would have been to joy, or to enjoy in modern parlance. It transfered a noun into the realm of verbs, a highly metaphorical usage that someone had to begin at some point in time. What's your take on that?
my long life of wondering about origins. Re dreams, those old guys had joy, no nightmares, nighthorses?
You've got my head buzzing and it keeps saying "Barfield."
Google Barfield+metaphor and the first several items are very useful.
You both would appreciate him if you don't already, friend of both Tolkien and CS Lewis, and most penetrating student of words I know.
One of his essays works through the point that in the last several centuries we have been using all kinds of words to describe perceptible outer objects -- in terms of our own inner experience. While two-three thousand years ago, say, we were describing inner experiences in terms of outer perceptibles.
I have never heard of Owen Barfield, until tonight, and after some diligent searching, I found his article "Metaphor," from which I will quote this passage:
"The most conspicuous point of contact between meaning and poetry is metaphor. For one of the first things that a student of etymology--even quite an amateur student--discovers for himself is that every modern language, with its thousands of abstract terms and its nuances of meaning and association, is apparently nothing, from beginning to end, but an unconscionable tissue of dead, or petrified, metaphors. If we trace the meanings of a great many words--or those of the elements of which they are composed--about as far back as etymology can take us, we are at once made to realize that an overwhelming proportion, if not all, of them referred in earlier days to one of these two things--a solid, sensible object, or some animal (probably human) activity. Examples abound on every page of the dictionary. Thus, an apparently objective scientific term like elasticity, on the one hand, and the metaphysical abstract, on the other, are both traceable to verbs meaning 'draw' or 'drag'. Centrifugal and centripetal are composed of a noun meaning 'a goad' and verbs signifying 'to flee' and 'to seek' respectively; epithet, theme, thesis, anathema, hypothesis, etc., go back to a Greek verb, 'to put', and even right and wrong, it seems, once had the meanings of 'stretched' and so 'straight' and 'wringing' or 'sour'."
That passage confirms what started me on this article from The Unfolding of Languageby Guy Deutscher, which is to say the concept of language being built on a reef of dead metaphors, but there is so much more to say about this, and ultimately, it is going to come back, I believe, to water. For now I am rather overwhelmed and grateful for the new direction you have given to my life.