CLOSE READING--(Concluded)
_The Author--Figures of Speech_
Real appreciation of literature is dependent on effort, and each
acquired impression aids all others in proportion to its intensity. We
can interpret only by what our minds already contain, so that the
earlier years of one's reading are largely devoted to the acquirement of
material for future use. In this way the myths and folk stories with
which children fill their minds become the touchstones that enable them
in later years to read with interest and judge accurately the literature
that falls within their reach. The later one begins his reading, the
more difficult it is for him to master the art. He has not the simplest
standards of literary judgment nor even the ideas from which such
standards are to be formed. Elegance of style and skill in the choice of
words are entirely lost upon him, as is the delicate meaning involved in
the play of appropriate figures and in the brilliance of the pictures
limned in colors to which his eye is blind. Such a person can come to
enjoy the pleasures of literature, but it is by way of a long and
careful course of study, and it is probable that his appreciation will
never be as keen as it would have been if he had gathered his literary
stock in trade at the same time that his senses were first opening to
the world. Then the skies and the flowers, the song of birds and the
hum of insects, the quiet reaches of still lakes and the roaring surge,
gave to him the sensations to which literature appeals.
There is no need for one to feel discouragement when at first he does
not admire all that the critics say is beautiful, but prefers some of
the simple things that he knew in his childhood. The critic is right
from his point of view, but there is merit, too, in the judgment of the
humble reader. A person would hesitate to say the critic's judgment is
the higher were it not for the fact that anyone reading carefully will
find his tastes changing and constantly approximating higher standards.
Each year brings him nearer to the critic's position and he sees
excellence and is touched by beauty in selections that before have been
devoid of any interest. It is to aid this growth in power of
comprehension, this refinement of taste, that one reads.
_The Author._ When the study relates to a specific selection it is wise
to create an interest by looking for all the contributory aids that can
be found. Sometimes a knowledge of the life of the author or of the
circumstances under which the selection was written will stimulate a
desire to know what has been said and will moreover assist to make the
meaning clear and to create the same sentiment that inspired the writer.
To know that _Snow-Bound_ is a description of Whittier's own home, that
the people about the fireside are his own parents, brothers, sisters,
and that he paints them with a loving touch after all but the one
brother have passed to the other side, is to make the poem appeal to our
emotions with an intensity which the beautiful lines alone could not
effect. _Ichabod_ we read once, but when we know the meaning of its
spiritual name and remember that it is Whittier's indignant rebuke of
Webster for his vacillating policy in the slavery agitation, we read it
again with a renewed and more vivid interest. Many things, however, are
so universal that one cares not whether they were written by a Hindoo or
an American, whether they are full of personal experience or drawn with
the fervor of the most ardent imagination. Wordsworth's _Daffodils_
(Volume VII, page 1) would charm us and our hearts would dance as
joyfully if we knew nothing of the pensive poet of the English lakes.
_Sentences._ Words alone are not a sufficient possession. They must be
known in all their relations. A comprehension of the structure of the
sentence is always necessary. A sentence is a unit of thought, an idea
reduced to its lowest terms. It may not be necessary that each sentence
be analyzed strictly by grammatical rules, but it is essential that the
reader should recognize by study if necessary the subject and the
predicate and the character and rank of all the modifiers of each. Even
the practiced reader by unconsciously laying undue prominence upon some
minor phrase frequently modifies the meaning an author intends to
convey. This is particularly true in verse, where the poet, hemmed in by
the rules that govern his meter and his rhyme, varies the natural order
of the elements of a sentence to bring the accents where they belong or
to throw the rhyming word to the end of a verse. The grouping of related
sentences into paragraphs is an aid to the reader and should be noticed
by him till the habit of expecting a slight change in thought with the
indentation of a line becomes fixed and automatic.
_Allusions._ But one may have the most perfect knowledge of all the
words, his comprehension of the meaning of the sentence may be exact and
full, and yet the special thought which the expression carries may never
reach his mind. Ruskin writes: "Gather a single blade of grass and
examine for a minute, quietly, its narrow swordshaped strip of fluted
green. Nothing, as it seems, there, of notable goodness or beauty. A
very little strength, and a very little tallness, and a few delicate
long lines meeting in a point--not a perfect point either, but blunt and
unfinished, by no means a creditable or apparently much cared for
example of Nature's workmanship; made, as it seems, only to be trodden
on today, and tomorrow to be cast into the oven; and a little pale and
hollow stalk, feeble and flaccid, leading down to the dull brown fibres
of roots. And yet, think of it well, and judge whether of all the
gorgeous flowers that beam in summer air, and of all strong and goodly
trees, pleasant to the eyes and good for food--stately palm and pine,
strong ash and oak, scented citron burdened vine--there be any by man so
deeply loved, by God so highly graced as that narrow point of feeble
green." Words and sentences are all plain and simple and clear. Perhaps
we pause a moment at "scented citron," for the citron as we know it is a
vine bearing a melonlike fruit and we are not aware that it is
especially fragrant. But this is another plant--a tree that bears a
sweet-scented fruit not unlike the lemon. "Burdened vine" seems a trifle
obscure--why _burdened vine_? A vine carrying a weight? What weight?
The ripened clusters of purple fruit bending the swaying vines to the
warm earth while autumn tints the leaves to harmonious colors. "Burdened
vine" is a suggestive expression indeed to the person of a little
imagination who has walked through the long aisles of a thriving
vineyard. Is the passage now clear to us and perfectly understood? Does
it convey to us what Ruskin really thought?--"Tomorrow to be cast into
the oven." What a strange expression! Do we put grass into an oven? How
came Ruskin to mention such a thing? "To be cast into the oven." We have
seen "burdened vines" and we understand the "scented citron," but what
of this grass "cast into the oven"? Back in the mind of the
artist-critic lie the lessons of his childhood when an ambitious father
and a strict mother intended him for the church and trained him
carefully to a close and accurate knowledge of the scriptures. So when
he writes of the grass of the field he almost unconsciously uses the
language of the bible: "Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the
field which today is and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not
much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?" We his readers interpret
his feelings and his meaning in this only as we have learned the same
lessons.
Examples of such allusions abound throughout literature. In _The Vision
of Sir Launfal_, Lowell says:
"Daily, with souls that cringe and plot,
We Sinais climb and know it not."
With a knowledge of geography we might locate the mountain and
understand the sentence, but the tremendous power of the lines can
never be felt unless we know the story of Moses and so realize that we
stand every day like the patriarch of old in the very presence of God
himself.
The mythology of Greece and Rome furnishes to English literature
allusions so pointed, so vivid, and so full of beautiful suggestion that
a knowledge of the myths is necessary to any real culture. Modern
writers do not make such ready use of them as did the older schools, but
Lowell and Tennyson, Browning and Arnold, and a host of minor writers
assume that their readers know as their alphabet the stories of
mythology. In his hymn _On the Morning of Christ's Nativity_, Milton has
this stanza following one which tells that the shepherds heard the sweet
music:
"Nature that heard such sound
Beneath the hollow round
Of Cynthia's seat the airy region thrilling,
Now was almost won
To think her part was done,
And that her reign had here its last fulfilling;
She knew such harmony alone
Could hold all Heaven and Earth in happier Union."
How little of intelligent interest attaches to the first three lines if
one has no knowledge beyond the literal meaning of the phrases! "The
hollow round of Cynthia's seat" has beauty for that person only who
knows something of the Ptolemaic system of astronomy and of the
huntress-queen of Greek mythology.
Allusions lead one to every department of knowledge and are the result
of the early training and experience of the author. No one needs to be
told that Milton studied the classics, that Ruskin and Tennyson read the
bible devotedly, that Shakespeare passed his early life in the country.
The unconscious trend of their thought as shown by their allusions gives
that information most distinctly. If a man loves history in his youth
his writings will be filled with historical allusions; if he is a
devotee of science one will find the phenomena of nature the source of
his illustrations. The reader must be ready to understand and interpret
feelingly these allusions no matter what the particular bent of the
author. To the student the allusion is often very difficult of
comprehension, for if it comes in the way of an ingenious paraphrase he
may pass over it without the slightest recognition. When it is direct, a
dictionary or other reference book will frequently make it sufficiently
clear.
_Basis of Figures._ The allusion is but one of many ways in which an
author varies the literal meaning of his sentences and gives more force
and beauty to his statements. There are a large number of different
figures of speech, but such fine distinctions as the rhetoricians make
are unnecessary for the ordinary student of literature. It is the
meaning the figures convey that concerns us, for an adept in reading
always notices the skilful use of figures, and his pleasure is
heightened by their delicacy and beauty.
In the study of figures one must first carefully determine the basis in
reality or the literal meaning and then the figurative or applied
meaning. Browning speaks of
"--selfish worthless human slugs whose slime
Has failed to lubricate their path in life."
Here the reader must see disgusting slugs or snails crawling lazily
across the ripening apples in the orchard and leaving behind them the
filthy streak of slime with which they made the way easy for their ugly
bodies, but in so doing defiled the fruit for human use. So much is the
basis in fact. Knowing this one can feel the poet's stinging
denunciation of the one who cast the beautiful girl in the way of the
heartless Guido instead of "putting a prompt foot on him the worthless
human slug."
"To unhusk truth a-hiding in its hulls."
Here Browning has gone to the fields for his figure and we shall see the
ripened grain, the corn or the wheat, the merry huskers at work upon it,
turning out the glowing ear from its covering of dim paper wraps; or
perchance a group of disciples walking with their Master and rubbing the
hulls from the wheat gathered on the Sabbath day. Whatever the scene
that comes in mind, one fact there is--underneath the dried and
worthless hulls lies the living and life-giving grain. So we find truth
bright and genuine when we have torn from it the coverings with which it
has been concealed.
Such practice as this in working out elaborately the figure often given
in barest hint strengthens the imagination and gives to thought the
versatility that makes reading a delight and an inspiration. Till the
imagination is furnished material and given freedom, literature is as
worthless as the husks.
_Simile._ As we learn to know one thing from its likeness to another, it
is natural that the writer should seek to make impressions vivid by
comparison with better known things. Sometimes these comparisons are
expressed in words, and one thing is said to be _like_ another, while at
other times the comparison is left to be inferred and one thing is said
_to be_ another. The _simile_ states the likeness. Browning seeks to
make us see vividly the hideous character of one of his villains and
says that on his very face you could read his crimes--
"Large-lettered like Hell's masterpiece of print."
The comparison "like Hell's masterpiece" is a simile.
Study each simile you find, and state the exact meaning of each
literally. Compare your statement with the figurative one and see if the
latter is clearer, more forcible, or more beautiful. If any one of the
similes seems less vivid than your own literal statement, ask yourself
if the fault is your own in that you are not thoroughly familiar with
the basis of the figure. It is not necessary that your judgment should
be unassailable. The value of the proceeding lies in the exercise of
your attention and reason. Your judgments will improve, your
appreciation grow keener and more delicate.
_Metaphor:_
"Everywhere
I see in the world the intellect of man,
That sword, the energy, his subtle spear,
The knowledge, which defends him like a shield."
This is another quotation from Browning in which he says intellect is a
sword and energy a spear, thereby assuming a comparison and using the
figure _metaphor_, while in the last line he uses the simile "like a
shield." Ingersoll calls the grave "the windowless palace of rest," and
Whittier refers to it in a beautiful metaphor as "the low green tent
whose curtain never outward swings."
_Synecdoche and Metonymy._ Another group of figures consists in naming
one thing for something else closely associated with it in thought. When
this relation is that of a part to the whole or of the whole to a part,
the figure is synecdoche. Thus, when Browning says "pert tongue and idle
ear consort 'neath the archway" he conveys the idea that idle gossips
gather beneath the archway and with sharp tongues talk over the failings
of their neighbors, and he uses synecdoche in making the ear and the
tongue, parts of the body, signify the person. Our everyday language is
full of these figures in which a part of an object is named to represent
the whole. We speak of owning "twenty head of cattle," of hiring "ten
hands," of seeing "fifteen sails," when we mean that we own twenty
cattle, that we hire ten men, that we see fifteen boats.
When the relation expressed is that of a sign or symbol and that which
is signified or symbolized, a cause and its effect, a material and that
which is made from it, or is some other similar association of ideas,
the figure is metonymy.
We speak of "the pulpit" when we mean the ministry, the "stage" when we
mean the theatrical world, and thus use concrete symbols to represent
abstract ideas. Again, we frequently make use of such an expression as
"Have you read Pope or Dryden?" when we refer to the works rather than
to the writer, and thus substitute cause for effect. "Columns of
glittering steel advanced" contains another form of metonymy, that in
which a material (steel) is named for that made from it (spears).
Search for examples of these two figures in the selections in _Journeys
Through Bookland_. Both are elusive, and at first you are apt to pass
over many without noticing them. As you continue your search and grow
keen in it you will be surprised to see how common they are, both in
what you read and in your own speech.
_Apostrophe and Personification._ An address to a person or thing,
absent or dead, is an _apostrophe_, and when an inanimate object is
assumed to be alive or an animate object is assumed to be raised to a
higher plane of existence it is said to be by _personification_.
Examples of the latter figure are "death's menace," "laugh of morn." In
the line "Lucidity of soul unlocks the lips" are both metonymy and
personification. The following is the beginning of a beautiful
apostrophe:
"O lyric Love, half angel and half bird,
And all a wonder and a wild desire,--
Boldest of hearts that ever braved the sun,
Took sanctuary within the holier blue,
And sang a kindred soul out to his face,
Yet human at the red-ripe of the heart
When the first summons from the darking earth
Reached thee amid thy chambers, blanched their blue
And bared them of the glory--to drop down,
To toil for man, to suffer or to die,--
This is the same voice; can thy soul know change?"
Another fine example is found in Whittier's _Snow-Bound_:
"O Time and Change!--with hair as gray
As was my sire's that winter day,
How strange it seems, with so much gone
Of life and love, to still live on!
Ah, brother! only I and thou
Are left all that circle now,--
The dear home faces whereupon
That fitful firelight paled and shone.
Henceforward, listen as we will,
The voices of that hearth are still;
Look where we may, the wide earth o'er,
Those lighted faces smile no more.
We tread the path their feet have worn,
We sit beneath their orchard trees,
We hear, like them, the hum of bees
And rustle of the bladed corn;
We turn the pages that they read,
Their written words we linger o'er,
But in the sun they cast no shade,
No voice is heard, no sign is made,
No step is on the conscious floor."
The following lines are from Lord Byron's _Apostrophe to the Ocean_:
"Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean--roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin--his control
Stops with the shore;--upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown."
* * * * *
Children enjoy searching for the different varieties of figures in the
selections which they read. Not much instruction is needed, and it is
not necessary that they should know the names of the different figures
or acquire a great deal of technical knowledge. Yet in helping them to
recognize figures it is best to proceed in a logical manner, showing,
one at a time, what the principal figures are, upon what they are based,
and what they add in vividness and beauty to the language. When one
figure is understood, help the children to find many good examples in
other selections, before taking up the second figure.
As a help to parents and children, we give an outline here for a study
of the figures of speech in Shelley's beautiful _Ode to a Skylark_
(Volume VII, page 275).
1. SIMILE:
"From the earth thou springest
_Like a cloud of fire_."
"_Like an unbodied joy_ whose race is just begun."
"With music _sweet as love_."
"_Like a star of heaven_
In the broad daylight."
2. METAPHOR:
"From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see,
As from thy presence _showers a rain of melody_."
"Or how could thy notes _flow in such a crystal stream_!"
"In _the golden lightning_
Of the sunken sun."
3 and 4. METONYMY AND SYNECDOCHE are nearly related and in this poem the
examples are numerous. Here are a few:
"Better than all _treasures_
That in books are found."
"Teach me half the gladness
That thy _brain_ must know."
"Thou art unseen, but yet I hear _thy shrill delight_."
"The moon _rains out her beams_, and heaven is overflowed."
"The blue deep thou _wingest_."
5. PERSONIFICATION. In this poem the poet personifies the lark,
beginning with "Blithe spirit, bird thou never wert," in the first
stanza and closing with "Teach me half the gladness that thy brain must
know," in the last stanza.
6. APOSTROPHE. Most odes have in them something of the nature of an
apostrophe. The _Ode to a Skylark_ begins
"Hail to thee, blithe spirit!"
Further along in the lyric we find the line,
"Teach us, bird or sprite."
* * * * *
Young children will not appreciate the ode as it deserves; accordingly
it will be better to use simpler poems for the first lessons. The
obvious figures may well be shown first, leaving the more finished and
brilliant ones till the minds of the children become more mature. For
instance, as the simile is the most obvious of figures and may be found
in nearly every poem of any length, it is the best with which to begin.
Notice what a number can be found in _A Visit from Saint Nicholas_
(Volume II, page 202). Explain those that are used in the description of
Saint Nicholas:
"And he looked _like a peddler just opening his pack_."
"His cheeks were _like roses_, his nose _like a cherry_;
His droll little mouth was drawn up _like a bow_,
And the beard on his chin was _as white as the snow_."
"The smoke, it encircled his head _like a wreath_."
"That shook, when he laughed, _like a bowl full of jelly_."
Encourage the children to find other similes themselves--the
characteristic _like_ and _as_ will make the task easy.
In _The First Snowfall_ (Volume II, page 403) are a number of metaphors
which may be easily explained to children. For instance, the following
will be readily understood:
"Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore _ermine_ too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm tree
Was ridged inch deep with _pearl_."
"The stiff rails were softened to _swan's-down_."
SUMMARY
We have considered the most common and expressive figures, and if one
accustoms himself to the recognition of these and an explanation of
their meaning as has been indicated here, he will soon recognize others
of more complex type. Mere classification is valueless; our purpose is
to learn to see and to feel more clearly and more deeply by means of our
intelligent grasp upon these figurative expressions.
Thought, then, is mastered by attention to the details we have
discussed, and until we habitually notice these things our reading is
apt to be slipshod and profitless. It will help us to retain these facts
in mind if we put them into a systematic outline.
Mastery of thought, which is at the foundation of an appreciation of
literature, depends upon mastery of--
I. Words in their special meaning.
II. Allusions, or references to
1. Historical events and personages.
2. Literary masterpieces.
3. Scientific truths.
4. Biblical events and truths.
5. Mythological creations.
III. Figures, of which the more important and common are those--
1. Based on comparisons:
a. simile.
b. metaphor.
2. Based on natural associations:
a. synecdoche.
b. metonymy.
3. Of apostrophe.
4. Of personification.
IV. Sentences, the units of thought.
V. Paragraphs, the collections of related thought units.