Well, you see, that's my point. When I say "I don't think in metaphors" I'm not thinking in metaphors, although I may, conceivably, be saying in metaphors something which approximates, in some way and to some degree, to what I'm thinking.

Experience is private. Language is public. Metaphors are a linguistic convention. The great value of metaphors, it seems to me, is that, while I cannot convey directly the colours of objects a and b as I see them internally (to use a crude example), I can say that, for me, I am having a similar experience, colour-wise, when I view a and b. For some people that will be a recognisable similarity; for others, not. I, for instance, no matter how hard I try, cannot get the idea of a green sky looking like a grasshopper.

P

metaphor
 

I think what Pound could be referring to is an atmospheric phenomenon sometimes called 'the green flash' - a very small, very quick flicker of green you see on the horizon at the instant the sun sets in the sea (if you blink you miss it - and it certainly doesn't colour the sky green). It's rare, but I have seen it so I know it exists! Looking at the Canto, I think he's looking for a metaphor to express impermanence, perhaps of beauty? power?

I agree, Mary. Surely the grasshopper's flying suggests fleetingness. The image is (for me) powerful in part because it juxtaposes the great with the small, sky with insect, so suddenly and surprisingly. "Sunset" evokes an image of oranges and reds and yellows, and then there is that flash of green. Pound's side-by-side placement of the seemingly incongruous images is an instance of how he applied to poetry what he learned about Chinese from Ernest Fenellosa (however mistaken he or Fenellosa may have been, as some have pointed out), as in the famous ur-Imagist poem:

In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.


And his famous statement about the poetic image: "An image is that which presents an intellectual and emotional complex in an instant of time."

Well, there you go, you see. Another image of Pound's I have never got.

Whether a metaphor works for you depends so much on experience. I could just about go for faces as petals, but I have no idea where the bough comes into it, and petals aren't in any case connected to boughs, so the whole thing falls apart for me.

When a metaphor really hits home for me is when one relatively obvious quality of a is connected to the same quality of thing b, but then by extension other non-obvious comparisons between the qualities of the two are implicitly invited. I want to hear myself saying, mentally, "yes, of course it's like that".

P

I've always been ok with it: petals blown/fallen on a black bough = ghostly faces against the darkness of the Metro. Solidity (death?) vs beautiful transience, the darkness showing through.

A Korean lady I met, several years ago, came to Australia to study English.
This puzzled me at first due to her astounding vocabulary and excellent
pronunciation. But it was not a formal education she sought, but a
colloquial understanding. Her first attempts to gain insight into Australian
English came from the nightly news, of which she understood very little.
Whether considered idioms or metaphors, often interchangeable, one needs
a lot of colloquial exposure to understand the broadcasts.

One example was a thief who was caught red handed. Whether a metaphor
or an idiom is not really an issue; it is an extreme example of what I find
difficult about reading metaphor laden poetry. It was pointed out that
everyone speaks in metaphorical terms, language is a metaphor, and that
everyone can not help but think this way. I tend to agree.

But I also agree that I do not think in a true metaphorical sense because I
usually “don’t get it.” A rose is love – I know this because I have leaned it.
When reading some new association, I find it most difficult to find meaning.
Comments about which part of a train is a metaphor, or if the metaphor is
the driver, becomes so confusing to me that all meaning is lost.

There are many jokes about men having rules relating to direct thought. “It
is possible to answer every question with either a yes or a no,” being one
of my favorites. Perhaps my brain is wired wrong; bypassing some emotive
center. It was said of me during high school, “You’re dirty.” Hours of
confusion passed before I realized it was my clothing that was dirty and
not my mind or body. While this is not a metaphor, it is how literal I view
the world.

I have only met a few people who can relate to that story and each one
agrees that a rose is a rose and love is love unless there is a specific
purpose for a rose meaning love and it is presented in a suitable manner.

The example of the sky being as a grasshopper or something (see, I’ve
forgotten already) is not something I can relate to having never seen such
a green sky or bothered to catch the hue of a flying grasshopper. No
matter the effort, I cannot imagine either as a clear mental image.

To address two of points posed by Janice, it is my opinion that the death
of a metaphor occurs slowly with the passing of those people who had
direct contact with the original source. As mentioned, “Until the cows
come home.” Actually, come to think of it, I have no clear idea what this
actually means! Damn, will look that up soon.

The other point was about person opinions regarding metaphors. While I
cannot truthfully say that I don’t like them, for they do have a place,
provided I can identify them, but I find myself hardly ever using them.

I’d like to know when a metaphor becomes cliché.

I am honestly not sure if I could tell the difference between what is happening in my mind when I am "thinking" as opposed to when I am "saying"
other than some obvious things about opening my mouth and making sounds, or typing, or whatever. Although, I often speak out loud when I am thinking alone aw well.

I seem to think in linguistic conventions all the time, by which I mean all of the time -- I cannot think of a counterexample.

Anyone ever read The Origin of Consciouness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind byt Julian Jaynes? It is a fun read.

David R.

Andrew

L and J--surprisingly--have little to say about what we call metaphors here at the sphere. They seem to be feeling their way towards an argument against any truth claim on the basis that the ubiquitous and arbitrary nature of metaphor in the language undermines any such claim. I'm using truth claim here in a non technical sense. Lakoff is quite the political activist and that posture seems to motivate a lot of what he does.

I think you have to catch yourself off-guard. The minute you attend to what you are thinking you begin to translate it into language. Then you mistake the language for what you are thinking. I'm pretty sure thinking came before language. And I'm pretty sure William Golding had it near enough right in The Inheritors. What is a dream but pure thought, unsullied by the conscious mind's insidious desire to make everything look neat and tidy?

P

Off guard from what? I don't think I understand what you mean. I have no evidence to suggest there is a difference between the language and what I am thinking.

Wow. I am not sure at all. Sometimes I think that language is our species' mode of thought, or perhaps consciousness, or something. Or maybe effects of the same cause. I am not sure, but I can't think of any evidence in my own experience that thought precedes language.

Really? Dreams strike me as far more linguistic, and for that matter metaphorical, than "ordinary" language or thinking, not less so. In fact they seem sort of uberlinguisticometaphoric.

David R.