Irony

Although the term irony is very prevalent in popular culture today, it is nonetheless one of the most misused and misunderstood aspects of figurative language. One of the best examples of such mistaken uses of the term can be found in the widely popular song "Isn't it Ironic?" where the singer lists a series of unfortunate events, like rain on a wedding day, or being given good advice and not taking it. While all of the situations listed have undesirable outcomes, none of them actually stands up as an example of irony. In this case, the only ironic thing is that a song which has irony in the title and is supposed to be about irony actually gets irony wrong altogether.

Irony at its core is about oppositions. It is most often subdivided into three categories, situational irony, verbal irony, and dramatic irony, the first two of which are the most important and the most widely used. Situational irony occurs when the opposite of what should happen and is expected to happen actually takes place. The word opposite is stressed because it is so important to the construction of an ironic situation. As an example, suppose I tell a story where a person, say a lawyer, drowns while swimming at the beach one day. This is highly unfortunate, but there is nothing ironic in it. Even if we knew him to be a great swimmer, this does little to add to the irony of the situation. People drown all the time, and while it could be said to be unlikely, it is not the opposite of what is expected when someone goes for a swim, but rather a definite possibility.

Now, the same situation goes from merely unfortunate to completely ironic if we change the profession of the swimmer from lawyer to lifeguard. We can see that there is an opposition here between the lifeguard who is trained to swim very well and save others from drowning, and the circumstance of his drowning while out for a pleasant swim at the beach. He is the last person we would expect to find in this situation, and so it really is the opposite of what we would expect to happen. However, other subtle changes in the situation can add to or subtract from its irony. If the lifeguard were engaged in a dangerous rescue when he drowned, this would not be ironic at all; life guarding carries great risks at times, and it is to be expected that sometimes they will themselves drown in the line of duty.

Verbal irony also relies on opposites, but is usually somewhat less complex than situational irony. The most well known and popular forms of verbal irony are known as sarcasm, which is when the opposite of what is intended is said. This is often and most obviously achieved through intonation; if a child states to his parents "Oh great! I would LOVE to go get a root canal today. I am SO excited about it!" it is apparent that the child does not actually want the invasive dental procedure. He seems to be saying he would enjoy it, but this joy is so overblown and so inappropriate for the situation that we must interpret it as being ironic.

In either of the main forms of irony, context is very important, and irony cannot exist without it. For example, in the dental situation above, it is a well known social fact that almost no one enjoys root canals, since they are painful and unpleasant procedures. We also know that lifeguards are supposed to save people from drowning, and that they are professional swimmers. Without these important pieces of social information, the irony in either case would cease to exist. The irony is not a product merely of the language, as might be the case with some other figures like alliteration, but of the scene taken as a whole in a given social context.

Onomatopoeia

The term onomatopoeia is such a daunting word that students almost always immediately assume that it must be a terribly difficult and complex technical term describing a linguistic and literary phenomenon that only the trained elite could hope to comprehend. However, nothing could be further from the truth, and once students understand what this large and difficult-to-spell word actually means, it usually becomes a favorite device, and provides easy points on essays and exams. It is one of the easiest "sound effects" to identify, and even children use the device on a regular basis, as it is a mainstay of nursery rhymes and children's songs.

Onomatopoeia occurs when the sound of a word attempts to emulate or at least give the impression of the sound of the thing it describes. The most obvious examples of this phenomenon occur all the time, even in comic books and jokes. When you see the word "bang!" or "pow!" you are looking at an example of onomatopoeia. Both words are an attempt to render in human language the sounds of explosion or impact. The exclamation points that usually follow such words give us a clue to this; after all, when you are telling a story to your friends that features an explosion you witnessed, it is highly unlikely that you will say "bang" in an understated and quiet manner. It is far more likely that you will say bang in a way that makes it stand out from the volume of the rest of the story, and probably even include some hand gestures to indicate the power of the event. It is obvious that the word bang does not really do justice to the sound of an explosion, no matter how small, but it does remind us of the right sound, and by saying it with increased stress, the sound of the word conveys its meaning well.

Some more subtle examples of onomatopoeia can occur in alliterated groups of words, as was briefly mentioned in a previous article on alliteration. Read the following sentence aloud and think for a moment about what sounds stand out and what impressions those sounds have on you: "The silent snake slithered slowly, searching stealthily." The repeated s sound that begins most of the words in the example sentence calls attention to itself through a high level of repetition. The sound makes the sentence more interesting on its own, but if we consider the content of the sentence, the alliterated s sound takes on an even greater significance. The sentence is about the silent slithering of a snake, and it is well known that snakes produce a sound that we most often render as a hissing sssssss. Snake characters in cartoons and movies, for example, usually speak with highly exaggerated s sounds, making them seem more snakelike even as they take on human characteristics and speech. So, the repeated s sounds reinforce the snake's presence in the sentence, and the description becomes more vivid through the use of onomatopoeia emulating the sound of the snake.

Taking this example even further, we can also see that the snake's motion is both secret and silent, which calls to mind another common example of onomatopoeia. When we desire someone to be quiet, or to keep something a secret, we often put our finger to our lips and say "shh," indicating that we want the person to remain silent. Because we are dealing with silence and secrecy in the example sentence, the s serves the dual role of reminding us of the sounds of the snake, but also of the silence and secrecy of his motion. Indeed, the sound the snake makes and the word "shh" are very similar, and through alliteration we are able to see the two concepts "snake" and "silence" combined in a way that perfectly describes the situation described in the sentence.

Oxymoron and Paradox

Whereas many aspects of figurative language, like simile and metaphor, are rooted in similarity, many others produce their effects based on oppositions and tensions. Oxymoron and paradox fall into the latter category, producing contrast and difference on the semantic level. What is often missed about both of these terms is that, although tension must be present in each, neither is simply an actual contradiction. Based on the way each is used, there is an apparent contradiction which is understood as such.

Beginning with the more direct and uncomplicated oxymoron, we get an excellent idea of the term's definition by examining its linguistic roots; the two halves of the word, "oxy" and "moron" come from Greek roots meaning "sharp" and "dull" (note how appropriate this is for our current use of the word "moron" as well). These terms are obviously opposites placed in close proximity, and that is a fair definition of oxymoron, except that the two terms must be placed side-by-side rather than being contained in the same word. A favorite example of this device is "jumbo shrimp." The words contain an opposition to each other, because "jumbo" indicates something large, while "shrimp" is associated with being very small (for example, if I call my boxing opponent a shrimp, it is an insult suggesting that he is too small and weak to win). However, note that the contradiction here only exists on one level; the terms themselves suggest an opposition, but the words together still make sense. A jumbo shrimp is a shrimp that happens to be very large compared to other shrimp. So, the words do make sense together, even though they seem to contradict each other.

Oxymoron is considered by some to be a sub-class of paradox, although I believe this classification leads to more confusion than unity, despite that fact that the terms do share a common root in oppositions. A paradox is an apparent contradiction that seems logically impossibly but which demands further examination, and reveals some truth on a different level of meaning. Unlike oxymoron, a paradox can be developed over a far greater length, be it a sentence or even a paragraph. George Orwell's famous novel 1984 features a great number of paradoxes, including such gems as "war means peace" and "slavery means freedom." On the surface, neither of these statements seems to make any sense, as war is considered the opposite of peace, and slavery as the opposite of freedom. However, once these oppositions are shown to be more closely related than we usually assume, we can see that the contradictions are merely apparent.

In the first example, "war means peace," we need to consider how war and peace are related to each other, and how one could lead to the other. War consists of battles and violence, certainly nothing like peace, but through warfare, it is possible that peace can be achieved. If two rival nations are constantly squabbling with each other, there is no real peace, even though there might be no official declaration of war. In this case, a large-scale war might be just the thing to thoroughly defeat one nation, and put an end to the constant unrest. Thus, war is the path to peace, and war indicates or means that peace is not far off. The second example seems equally contradictory, but it can also be seen as only an apparent contradiction. In Orwell's novel, slavery is basically the state in which the people find themselves, severely controlled and oppressed by a totalitarian government. This government believes that by enslaving the people, it frees them from natural but undesirable human emotions and failings like violence, crime, misdirected anger, and dissenting actions and thoughts. By keeping the people under an iron heel, the government states that it is making life better for everyone, freeing them from decision and worry. As is often the case with paradox, there is some irony apparent here; Orwell does not believe either of these terms or explanations is true, but by presenting the paradoxes, Orwell challenges us to decide for ourselves whether the contradiction is apparent or actual, hopefully seeing more clearly than many of the citizens of the story.

Pathetic Fallacy

In the realm of logic, a fallacy is a common error in reasoning that can seem convincing but which has no logical validity, and proves nothing. In literary terms, fallacies refer to commonly used devices which, while not incorrect in the same strict way as logical fallacies, nonetheless are considered by many to be weak and ineffective devices. Whether these fallacies are considered unsuitable by any given author or critic is a matter of subjective opinion, but the devices they describe are nevertheless worth investigating, and several devices have been given their names through their classification as fallacies, as is the case here.

The pathetic fallacy sounds like the worst, saddest, most unfit fallacy of all, named for how pathetic it is, but it must be noted that the use of the word pathetic here has different connotations than the word has in current popular use. We tend to the use the word to describe a person or thing that is really unworthy, generally undesirable, highly pitiable, and possibly even somewhat disgusting. The roots of the term, however, relate to the Greek term pathos, which has to do with the emotions and their display, as well as empathy, that being our perception and reaction to the emotions we see in others. The word happens to be the basis of our word "pity," which has some negative connotations, and this is how our current word "pathetic" came to hold the negative associations it does.

The pathetic fallacy taps into the earlier, broader sense of the word, and has to do with the attribution of human emotions to non-human entities, especially nature and natural processes. This seems like anthropomorphism (treating something non-human as if it were human), or even personification (treating an inanimate entity as if it were living), but it has another aspect which separates it from these terms. If the natural world responds according to the emotional situation of characters in a poem or story, this is also an example of the pathetic fallacy; nature does not need to be emotional itself, but merely needs to do things that seem to go along with a given event or mood.

Some examples make this phenomenon and its different aspects far more clear. "The wind howled angrily at the window" is an example of the most evident sort of pathetic fallacy, where nature is clearly being personified. The wind seems to be human here, and it is evidently angry. On the other hand, the following is a far more subtle example of the fallacy, where personification is not apparent: "Greta cried, weeping at her terrible fate, her entire world ruined by the horrors of war. Outside, the rain pelted the thin roof and windows of the home, dogs howled, and a grey darkness enveloped the entire scene. In this setting, the sun was difficult even to imagine." Here, the emotional description is where we would expect it to be, firmly rooted in the character Greta. However, notice that external nature seems to be acting in sympathy to her emotions. We associate rain and dark weather with sadness; the howling dog evokes similar associations of loneliness; and it is even suggested that the sun is unimaginable in the situation, which suggests that light, standing for hope and a new beginning, is not possible here. The close proximity of Greta's emotional state and the description of nature causes us to make these associations, and although nature is never described as being sad, it certainly is cooperating to set the mood of Greta's sorrow. Shakespeare himself employs this second form of the fallacy in Macbeth, King Lear, and many other plays and poems, and though it is considered by some to be fallacious under any circumstances, if employed well it can create powerful emotional effects without seeming overly contrived.

Synesthesia

One of the more popular recent additions to the family of figurative language is synesthesia, an interesting and evocative device that has its roots in a medical condition. The term synesthesia comes from a combination of two Greek roots, the prefix syn meaning together (like in synchronized) and aesthesis meaning perception (as in aesthetic). So, synesthesia means joined or combined perception, and medically it refers to people who perceive sensations on different sensory modalities in response to some apparently unrelated stimulus. For example, it is common for synesthesia sufferers to associate colors with numbers, so that each time they see the number five, they immediately have a sensation of brown-ness, meaning they think of this number as being brown, and may substitute the word brown for the number five (which would make giving out your phone number tricky, to say the least). Synesthesia can occur across any sensory modality, so that one may taste vinegar when hearing a bell ring, or hear a snapping sound whenever smelling lilacs.

Literary scholars have co-opted this medical term to describe a type of figurative language that joins or mixes sensations from different senses. It might seem like an odd thing to do, but synesthesia's use and history in language is broader than we might imagine, and all of us have heard examples of it despite not knowing the technical term. For example, it is not uncommon to refer to someone's necktie as being loud, and Canadian hockey fans well know that there is no more apt description of commentator Don Cherry's wardrobe.

Breaking down the synesthesia in this situation, we can see that we have two senses at work, sight and hearing (the visual and auditory senses to name them properly). The necktie in question is very colorful, perhaps a bright pink with neon green stripes and studded with shining rhinestones. Now, it is obvious that the tie is highly noticeable, but despite its stand-out nature, in reality it makes no sound at all. As is the case with most aspects of figurative language, this device is most noticeable when the phrase containing it does not make literal sense. So, reading this figuratively, we must consider how the stunningly bright nature of the tie relates to being loud, and we find here a relation based on similarity of magnitude. The necktie in question is far more visible and obvious than the rest of the outfit we see, as well as neckties in general. So, it commands attention, and figuratively "drowns out" things around it. In the context of normal clothing, it is apparent and unmistakable. Thus, we can say that the tie is loud, comparing the strong visual effect to a strong auditory effect. Just like a loud sound is very noticeable, making it stand out from the noise around it, so too is the tie.

Another common example of synesthesia is the relation of color to mood or disposition. I can refer to myself as being blue, in the pink, or seeing red, and people will know just what I am talking about, because these colors have been linked conventionally to the corresponding emotions of sadness, happiness, and anger. The link between these colors and emotions is less obvious than the relation between the necktie and volume above, and while there may be psychological reasons these colors are cast in their emotive roles, the relationship is at base a socially constructed one. The range of synesthesia can be made far wider in literature and especially poetry, as authors may combine disparate sensory effects without needing to establish a clear link. "Crimson screams" for example presents two words that have no obvious relation or conventional meaning when placed together, and yet their presentation together sends the reader's mind into vivid considerations.

Euphemism

Since so much of our rhetorical terminology originated with the Greeks, it is not surprising that so many of them have strong Greek roots. Euphemism is no exception here, as it is based on the Greek word euphemos, basically meaning "good" as in euphoria. Euphemism has been used over the centuries, but in today's word of careful public speech and political correctness, euphemism has moved from a relatively marginal position to one of the foremost devices for linguistic change. If you don't know the right euphemism for a particular idea or group of people, you will quickly find yourself apologizing for your lack of sensitivity and ignorance.

A euphemism is a word or phrase that stands in place of a different word or phrase that has negative or derogatory connotations, or that is seen as taboo. As the root of the word suggests, it is a good word standing in place of a word that is inappropriate. In orthodox Judaism, for example, saying the name of God, or even the word God is considered inappropriate and even blasphemous. As a result, they use the Hebrew word Hashem (or other similar constructions) which basically means "our Lord." In this way, it is possible to speak about God without using his name, since that would be considered taboo.

Euphemistic terms are everywhere in today's society, and it is not difficult to think of very common examples with a long history. The idea of death is one that has made human societies fearful across the ages, and in English we have many long-standing euphemisms that can replace the words "death" and "dying." When a police or military representative has to tell a family that their loved one has died, it is considered very harsh to bluntly state "Ma'am, your son is dead." Instead, other terms are used, the most common being "passed away." This seems like a somewhat odd term when examined, because though it seems to suggest that the person has gone somewhere, like heaven or some other spiritual realm, "away" is very vague, although it does make clear the fact that the person, wherever they have gone, is no longer here. "Kicked the bucket," "bought the farm," "croaked," and "taken a dirt nap" are all synonyms for "died," but these are all now considered more harsh than the term they have come to replace, and so do not properly qualify as euphemisms.

As I mentioned in the introduction, euphemism has grown robust through the progress of the political correctness movement, with both positive and annoying consequences. One of the original terms for a black person in the United States was the derogatory term "nigger," which comes from the Latin word for black. Since the term was used during a time of repression and inequality for black people, it was as much an insult as a descriptive term, and so the rise of the civil rights movement rightly saw changes in the language to rid it of the highly negative powerful term. "Negro" was a suitable replacement for a time, but since it contained the same root and sounded very similar, it was doomed from the start to take on the old connotations. "Colored," "black," "African American," and most recently, "person of color" have all moved into the position of neutral descriptive term, but all have been found to be problematic by various groups and sub-groups for being too broad, too specific, inaccurate, or negative. Part of the problem, of course, is that those who discriminate against a given group will use the new terms in discriminatory ways, bringing the old connotations to the new words. As a result, new euphemisms need to be introduced constantly in order to avoid producing unintended offence, and so we are left with a vocabulary with many, many synonyms, and a potential minefield for new speakers of the language who are not aware of the latest developments.

Consonance and Assonance

The idea of "sound effects" in language, especially in literature, is one that has been discussed previously in this series, and though most literature is now written, the power of the spoken word has not been lost. Poetry is perhaps the place where sound makes the greatest impact on the reading experience, with rhyme, alliteration, and onomatopoeia being the clearest and most easily identifiable examples. However, if you are willing to look even more closely at well written verse, you will often find that other more subtle but no less powerful devices are at work, manipulating patterns of sound and having an important effect on your reading experience.

Consonance and assonance are terms describing devices similar to alliteration, but which are not bound to the starting sound of a word (nor to the ending sound, like rhyme). These devices get less attention because they are harder to notice, and because most poetic forms are not centered on them, whereas rhyme and alliteration are at the core of certain poetic forms and traditions. In order to remember what these terms do, and how they are different, it is useful to look at the beginning of the word consonance, and think of the word "consonant" (as in the opposite of a vowel).Consonance is therefore the repetition of a given consonant sound in at least two but usually more adjacent words. Unlike alliteration, consonance relies on sounds present throughout the words, rather than just at their beginning. Read the following example phrase and try to pick out the consonance you hear, as well as the effect it has: "Whacking the cracked chalk against the blackboard." Reading this over once or twice (and reading out loud also makes this easier), you can hear the predominant "k" sound, and even though these sounds are produced by "c's" as well as "k's," it is the sound rather than the letter that matters. The "k" sound is a harsh one, causing the throat to close and air to be rapidly pushed out, creating an effect that is highly appropriate to the violence done to the cracking chalk in the phrase.

Assonance, as you might have guessed already, is very similar to consonance, with the difference being that the repeated sound falls on vowel sounds rather than consonant sounds. The effect is similar as well, although consonance tends to feel more like alliteration, and pairs with it well, whereas assonance feells more like rhyme, since rhymes rely primarily on vowel sounds and alliteration on consonants. A large dose of assonance is apparent in the following example verse: "Cole roams nowhere, hopeless, knowing every home, every moat." Vowel sounds without rhyme are somewhat more difficult to find than their rhymed counterparts or grouped consonants, but we can hear in this sentence a definite patterning of the long "o" sound. The effect here is subtle, but the assonance brings together the various parts of the verse in a melodic unity, and the long "o" sound is often considered an expression of despair, as in "Oh no!" or the more dramatic "Nooooo!" of many action movies. Fittingly, the sound is also low, produced toward the rear of the mouth as opposed to the front (unlike high front vowels like "i"), giving a slow moaning effect.

From now on, whenever you read a line that sounds especially good, especially a poetic line, start by considering the more obvious sound effects like rhyme, alliteration, and meter. However, don't stop there! Looking for assonance and consonance can go a long way toward explaining why a given line sounds as sweetly as it does, and especially in the absence of the other sound effects listed above, it often allows you to provide an effective analysis of a line which will surprise and delight your teachers and professors.

Alliteration

As is the case for most of the aspects of figurative language discussed thus far in the series, figurative language most often works on the level of meaning, comparative and overlapping layers of meaning especially. Simile and metaphor are the leading examples, where aspects of a given entity are highlighted through juxtaposition with another, generally dissimilar one. However, figurative language can operate on many other levels as well, and the level of sound is the area where alliteration makes its presence felt.

Although our literary experiences today are almost entirely text based, in that we read works rather than listening to someone read them aloud, the place of "sound effects" in good writing is still easily recognized. Rhyme is perhaps the best and most well known example of sound effects in literary writing, but alliteration is a close second, and for centuries in the oldest forms of English it was the dominant ordering sound effect in all verse. Alliteration most simply defined is the occurrence of the same sound at the beginning of at least two words that are presented near each other in a given text. Note that the lead sound is the vital consideration, not the lead letter. In English where the same letter can often make two or more different sounds, this is a point not to be forgotten. "City" and "cake" do not alliterate despite beginning with the same letter, nor do "knight" and "kite" (even though this last pair happens to rhyme). On the contrary, "cake" and "kite" do alliterate despite the differing lead letters, as do "city" and "sorry."

Many tongue twisters are exaggerated examples of alliteration, where every or nearly every word in a given line or verse begins with the same sound.

"She sells sea shells down by the sea shore"

obviously uses the letter s to begin words almost to the point of absurdity. In this case, the effect of the device is to make the whole sequence challenging to pronounce by using a dominant beginning sound but altering the sounds around it slightly to trick the reader into repeating not only the lead s sound, but also other parts of the previous words where they are no longer applicable.

This trick shows the ability alliteration has to affect the reading process by drawing together nearby words so that they remain in our minds for longer, and so that each reminds us of the other. For example, in the line:

"The whispering winds swirled the mists of memory, wandering over the moors,"

we immediately get a sense of the place merely from the sound of the line. "Whispering winds" uses the repeated w sound to give us a hushed feeling which is reinforced by the resemblance of the sound to the actual sound of wind. The w sounds are wispy and airy, which perfectly mirrors the things being described. Next we see another alliterated pair, "mists of memory," which are joined by the common m sound which is deeper and fuller, appropriately describing darker, equally ephemeral but more serious ideas. Finally, we see "wandering" and "moors" in the last part of the line, uniting it to the two previous parts through the use first of a w sound followed closely by an m sound. This unites the two previous alliterated aspects of the line, bringing them once more to mind and encouraging us to hear their echoes of both sound and meaning in the final words. Although alliteration operates on the level of sound, the repetition with variation encourages us to consider how the words are different as well, how their meanings can be compared, and how they are related to each other. Alliteration is used in jingles to make them easier to remember, songs to make them sound better (because the ear loves repeated sounds in moderation), and especially in poetry for both its pleasing qualities, and for its ability to draw together disparate meanings.

Personification & Apostrophe

As with many of the other figures discussed in this series, personification and apostrophe are technical terms for linguistic phenomena that we use unconsciously in everyday life, not complex devices employed only by master poets. The root of the word personification gives us an important clue as to the meaning of both of these terms, and if you think about it carefully, you can almost derive the definition of that term from simply reading it. PERSONification employs the word person, and ends with a relatively common suffix that is employed to make a verb into a noun. Personification is therefore the act of treating something that is not a person as if it were; sort of.



Technically, this definition is somewhat too narrow, though it is a helpful way to remember what the term means in a general way. More specifically, personification is the treatment of inanimate objects, non-living things, and abstract entities as if they were living things. Note how his differs from the preliminary definition above; you don't need to treat something as a person necessarily, just as a living thing. A classic device of the fable, treating animals as if they were human, is called anthropomorphism, which resembles personification, but which must attribute human characteristics to any non-human being.

An obvious illustrative example of personification rests in a common poetic image:

"The leaves danced in the cool breeze."

Immediately, we know what is going on here in a literal sense; the leaves are being blown around by the wind. However, notice how much more satisfying and evocative this personification is. First, it attributes the agency to the thing being described, which makes the leaves spring to the foreground and come to life. Next, it makes the movements of the leaves more specific, allowing us to visualize them flitting about in a somewhat rhythmic and gentle fashion instead of being blown wildly about. Finally, it sets the mood of the scene efficiently, since dancing is a happy, joyous activity in general.

This brings us to a specific kind of personification, called apostrophe, which refers to a direct address to an inanimate or abstract entity as if it were a human capable of understanding the address. One of the most famous examples of this phenomenon is "Death be not proud" by John Donne, where the speaker addresses death throughout the poem, cautioning him/her not to be proud, for in the end death is defeated by eternal life. This device is sometimes made even more apparent by capitalizing the entity that is being addressed, making what is often an abstract noun (like death) a proper noun or a proper name, as Chaucer does in the Canterbury Tales, again with Death.

The effect of this device shares some characteristics with personification, but most often has an even more profound impact because the personification is extended and developed in a more detailed manner. In the case of Donne's poem, by using apostrophe the poet is able to express an emotion which often accompanies the death of a loved one, anger, but rather than address it to a particular individual or even God, which are both common targets, Donne turns his anger against its true cause, death itself. As a result, the expression of his emotion is pure, and he makes it so all of us who have ever lost someone can relate. He targets a universal phenomenon all of us have experienced to some degree rather than any specific individual, making the poem personal for all who read it.

Symbolism and Symbols

The importance and wonder of symbolism today has nowhere been better conveyed than in the enormous popularity of the recent novel (and its film adaptation) The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown. Many students find symbolism one of the most difficult aspects of literature to comprehend, but an understanding of this pervasive device is perhaps the first threshold separating the novice from the more experienced reader. Most simply defined, a symbol is something which is presented both as itself, and as a representation of something, or some things, else. The emphasis is added here because many students forget the importance of the thing itself to the literary work; it is important to understand what a symbol is referring to, but it is vital to remember that the thing itself should not be forgotten when attempting to find its secondary meaning.

There are many kinds of symbols which can be categorized in many different ways, but I find it most useful to consider them according to two categories: general symbols, and contextual symbols. These categories are not mutually exclusive since general symbols are often used in specific contexts to present different shades of meaning, but considering them in this way allows us to see the different ways symbols can be generated, and generative of different meanings.

A general symbol relies primarily on its linguistic and social history for its secondary meanings.

These symbols are in the social consciousness, and will be known and understood by most mature individuals and even young children in some cases. A very well known example is the heart. When I draw this on a greeting card, it immediately suggests love, and I can even use this symbol as a stand-in for the word love since it is so well known. Because it is so well known, and well worn, this symbol is not common in literature, but it does display in a very obvious manner what a symbol is.

A more subtle example of a general symbol in use in literature might be a passage in a novel or a line in a poem that shows a dove flying overhead. The dove has been widely known as a symbol for peace throughout history, and so its inclusion in a literary work will immediately suggest peace. Note that the context in which the dove appears is not vitally important to our recognition of it as a specific symbol. It has a long social history as a symbol of peace, and so whenever we see it, it carries these associations.

Contextual symbols on the other hand are not reliant on social conventions, but rather on the context in which they occur.

Imagine for a moment a story which features a treasure hunt at sea, where the gold is rumored to be contained within a giant oyster. Throughout the story, we see images and engravings of oysters popping up all over the place. The heroes of the story are at one point trapped inside a huge building complex which is shaped like an oyster. Perhaps there is also a secret society with an oyster as its logo. In this case, the oyster begins to stand for secrecy, darkness, and the protection of important things. There are certain characteristics of the oyster that make this somewhat appropriate, like its hard shell, dark interior, the difficulty in opening it, and its famed ability to occasionally produce and conceal pearls. So, even though the oyster is not generally considered a symbol of these things in everyday language and society, the context in which it resides makes it a symbol throughout the story in which it appears.

Pun

Puns can be found everywhere in modern society, and it is difficult to imagine advertising, sitcoms, and even comedy without them. Turn on the TV for 30 minutes and the odds are that you will have heard many puns even in that short time, likely both in the show being broadcast and the commercials which appear within it. Punning has been described as the lowest form of wit and humor, but it has nonetheless continued to pervade both literary and popular culture for generations.

The definition of pun given in most high school classrooms is "a play on words," and while this is perfectly right, it is so general as to be vague and largely unhelpful. After all, what does the phrase "play on words" mean? To remain somewhat general while introducing a technically more accurate and useful definition, I would define a pun as the intentional confusion or conflation of a word or phrase with another, based on similar sounds, resulting in the attribution of inappropriate and humorous meanings to the word or words in question. This sounds complicated, but an example or two will make it very clear.

One simple example from contemporary advertising is the product name

"Quackers."

Just reading the word, we can quickly see what is going on, and what the product might be; Quackers are crackers shaped like ducks. Here, the company has found a similar sound in the word cracker and the work quack, and combined them to make a new word, Quackers. Puns have to work on two levels, and this word accomplishes that because it combines the sound a duck makes with the word crackers, resulting in a word that expresses both ducks and crackers. Also, since ducks quack, even though it is not a proper English word, we can imagine that they could be referred to as "quackers," that is, things that quack.

Puns often exploit homonyms (two words that sound identical but which carry different meanings and spellings) because the sound similarity (as mentioned in the long definition above) is perfect. For example, we might end a story about a dog being rescued from an abandoned mineshaft by a miner with

"As Fido leapt from the man's arms into the bright open air, everyone cheered; they knew they had all been witnesses to a miner miracle."

The pun here relies on the homonyms miner and minor, the first referring to the person who works in a mine, the second to something small or of relatively little importance. Both of these meanings are appropriate here, since the rescue was completed by a miner in a mine, and since the rescue of a dog (especially considering how much more important the rescue of people in a mine would be) is a relatively minor accomplishment. This pun becomes even more effective because it employs a commonly used phrase, "minor miracle." This phrase is used to describe an outcome which, while not truly miraculous or impossible, is still positive and unlikely. The rescue is a minor miracle in the usual sense, as well as a miracle performed by miners, so the pun works to bring both levels of meaning together. Note that in cases like these, the way the word is spelled is important. If the word had been spelled "minor" like it usually is in the phrase "minor miracle," the pun would not have been so obvious, since we expect this kind of phrase. By changing its spelling in context with the word miracle, however, the pun stands out, and causes us to consider both meanings.

Allusion

Having so recently discussed puns in this series, it is appropriate that we turn next to a relatively uncommon word with a very common homonym which causes students endless confusion and professors endless grief. The term allusion sounds precisely like the word illusion, but apart from the striking similarity in sound, these words have nothing in common, and should never, ever be confused in the English classroom, especially on an essay, test, or exam.

In literary circles, an allusion is a textual reference to a specific cultural production or event. Cultural productions refer to any works which human beings create, including art, literature, cinema, philosophy, and myth, while events refer to actual historical figures, circumstances, and happenings. Allusions to other literary works are perhaps the most common and obvious form of allusion in literature, and these allusions efficiently add layers of meaning to a text that could not be conveyed without it.

Allusions range from the highly evident to the remarkably obscure, and scholars have debated using different terms to describe the various degrees of allusive explicitness. On the most evident side of the continuum we have quotation, where an author directly quotes another's work within his or her own, with or without quotation marks. This type of allusion is intentional and obvious to anyone familiar with the work being quoted. On the opposite end of the continuum is the echo, where nothing is directly quoted, but the same mood, style, subject matter, or method of presentation reminds us strongly of a previous work. Echo is often unintentional, and while the author might have read the previous work to which the allusion is being made, this is not necessary; the allusion in this case is determined by the reader, rather than the author. Some argue that allusion properly defined rests somewhere between these two extremes, and that neither of these is actually itself allusion! However, for our purposes it is most useful to see allusion as a broad category containing many subtle shades of difference which all contribute to a basic general effect.

When an allusion appears in a literary work, it operates in a way similar to a metaphor, but on a much more general level. We are reading one work, and therein we are reminded of another. As a result, we have an immediate and automatic comparison to make between the current work and the one it is alluding to. How are these situations similar? How are the works similar as a whole? Is the style of this work reflective of the previous, and if so, why has this been done? The allusion forces us to lay the contents of one work over the contents of another, encouraging us to examine the points of similarity and difference we encounter.

Note that the use of allusion is at times, if you will pardon my weak pun, elusive. Sometimes authors attempt to make their allusions obvious, and sometimes they make them remarkably subtle, but in either case, the effectiveness of the allusion relies on the reader's picking up on the reference made. T.S. Eliot's famous poem The Waste Land uses hundreds if not thousands of allusions, ranging from the blatantly overt to the closely concealed, and almost no reader will be able to pick up on all of them without being shown where they are. The role of the reader and his or her background is paramount in this case, because although the poem can be read and enjoyed without getting many of the references, it takes on greater and greater significance with every allusion you identify. A simple line can turn from being a straightforward and relatively uninteresting phrase to a pivotal moment which displays the strongest theme of the poem. Allusion allows authors to bring to mind the whole host of associations, meanings, and emotions of a previous work by means of a quick line or phrase, making it a remarkably efficient and effective tool. Allusion can lead to losing some readers, but the risk is most often outweighed by the rewards.

Allegory

Any time several lower-level concepts are combined to produce a more complex one, confusion will arise; this holds true nowhere more obviously in high school and university English classrooms than when the idea of allegory is introduced. Allegory combines elements of symbol, metaphor, and allusion to create an overarching effect that works over the entire course of a literary text. Allegory provides a sustained and coherent second level of meaning in a text, and without an understanding of this level, the text will often seem far shallower and overly simple.

Just as a symbol is something which stands for itself and something else, an allegory is a story that stands for itself but also another "story," whether that be an actual literary story or a historical event. We can see aspects of allusion here, in that the surface story makes a sustained reference to a story outside itself, and we also see metaphor as one story is laid over the other and the two are brought into comparison through the juxtaposition. When all of these elements work together in a sustained way over the course of a literary work, we have an allegory.

If identifying any of the other aspects of figurative language is sometimes difficult, identifying allegory is a true challenge for the literary novice. In order for an allegory to work, the reader needs to be aware of the prior "story" that is being allegorized. For example, many students are completely unaware that Orwell's Animal Farm is an allegory of the Russian Revolution. As a result, they read it only as an animal fable, and many wonder why on earth they have been asked to read a children's story in high school or university. Because it is so important for the reader to understand the allegory, authors have several devices at their disposal which make their purposes more apparent, ranging from the blatant to the subtle.

The first way of cluing the reader in to the presence of allegory almost feels like cheating: the author or publisher can simple tell readers somewhere in or on the book that the work is allegorical. This may be a sign that the allegory is weakly presented or completely not obvious, and it is probably the worst way to give readers insight. Another is to give some key characters names that strongly resemble those characters or people in the story being allegorized, as well as giving them corresponding physical and personal traits. If there is a tyrannical rat in my animal fable novel with a little moustache and the name "Adolph Ratler," it will be plain to all familiar with World War II that the rat stands in for Hitler. The appropriate arrangement of events is another, more subtle way to make readers aware of the allegory present in a story, although this requires more work on the part of both the author and reader. First, the author has to know the events he or she is allegorizing very well, and must present the key elements in the right order to trigger awareness in the reader. The reader must be aware of the historical situation being described so that the clues and parallels trigger the situation in his or her mind.

Allegory can be centered on very specific events and circumstances, like a particular battle, or around much larger events, like the progress of a war, revolution, or even the entire reign of a monarch. History supplies the majority of allegorical subjects, with religious and political events being the most widely used. The earlier the allegory, the more likely it is to be based on religious themes; take Dante's Divine Comedy as a prime example. Later works tend to focus on the political, like Orwell's Animal Farm.

Hyperbole and Litotes

Hyperbole and Litotes, like many of the terms in this series, are relatively uncommon names for figurative devices that all of us have used and heard countless times. A few common examples of each may make the meaning of each term clear before any discussion is needed. Read the following and try to form a definition of each term before reading on:

Hyperbole:

"He had the strength of ten men."

"She was as big as a house."

"That dog was heavier than a cow!"

Litotes:

"Being tortured with fire must have been somewhat uncomfortable."

"Rap videos with dancers in them are not uncommon."

"There are a few Starbucks in America."

As you have probably gleaned from the examples, hyperbole and litotes are similar devices with opposite effects. Hyperbole is a massive exaggeration, where something is described in a way that is so inflated that it could not be true. No one has the strength of ten men (unless we are talking about superheroes, of course), no person is as large as a house, and no dog can match the mass of a cow. Notice that simile is a very common vehicle for expressing hyperbole, as is metaphor, and there are certain comparative entities that we know will be used to exaggerate a given characteristic of something in comparison. For example, cows are used to indicate and exaggerate weight, Bill Gates, Rockefeller, or Trump to exaggerate wealth, and Einstein to exaggerate intelligence. Note that hyperbole must be used sincerely in order to be considered hyperbole at all. If I call someone Einstein when he is really stupid, this is irony, not hyperbole. If I call my brilliant classmate Einstein, it is obvious that I do not think he is that smart, but it is also obvious that I am using the comparison to highlight his intelligence, rather than to diminish it.

Litotes is almost the opposite of hyperbole; it is massive understatement. With litotes, irony is almost always present, but it does not rest in the falsity of the comparison so much as it does the way it is expressed. In the first litotes example above, it is true that being tortured would not be comfortable. However, there is a definite discrepancy between the act described (fire-torture) and the words used to describe it (somewhat uncomfortable). The descriptive words are not false, but they come nowhere near a full description of the action in question; the torture would not be merely uncomfortable, but rather excruciating. Another frequently employed type of litotes is the denial of something's opposite, as in the second example above. Rap videos with dancers are very, very common, and it might be argued that there are almost no such videos without them. Claiming that they are "not uncommon" is a way of saying that they are somewhat common, when in reality this is massive understatement. Again, it is a true statement, but it doesn't go nearly far enough, and we are left with a witty, humorous effect, reminiscent of stereotypical British humor.

As we can see from the examples and explanations above, these devices work in very different ways. Hyperbole is blatant and obvious, relying on the reader or listener to recognize the exaggeration and appreciate the humorous effect. Litotes, on the other hand, presents its understated comparisons in a much more subdued tone, and it often takes more careful attention from the reader to recognize it. Whereas irony would largely negate the effects of hyperbole, it is an important aspect of litotes, where subtlety and ironic wit are necessary to generate the intended humorous effect.

Malapropism

Of all the figurative terms that have been introduced in this series, malapropism is arguably the most amusing, but unfortunately also one of the most infrequently used in everyday life. Unlike most of the terms we have seen so far, this word has distinct French origins, coming from the French term mal - propos, meaning "bad (or incorrect) to propose," leading to the English term "malapropos" meaning "inappropriately." The figurative device as we know it today comes most directly from a character in Richard Sheridan's play The Rivals, where the character Mrs. Malaprop (named for the already existing English term "malapropos") unwittingly uses the device throughout the story.

Malapropism is intentionally deployed primarily in comedy, where it acts like a kind of pun, relying on the similar sounds but different meanings of words. When we hear it in real life, and as far as the characters in literature who use it are concerned, it is always unintentional, which is part of what makes it such an effective comic device. A malapropism is the accidental use of a word or phrase in place of another word or phrase that sounds very similar to it, but which is completely inappropriate to the situation, sometimes completely confusing any meaning, but more often generating a new meaning which is comically far from the original intended one.

Some of the clearest examples of this device occur when people attempt to decode difficult song lyrics, and one classic case of this occurs with a very well known (but frequently misquoted and mis-sung) verse from the legendary Jimi Hendrix: "Excuse me, while I kiss the sky." The meaning of this line is somewhat vague to begin with, but it obviously has something to do with an altered state of being, a sense of expanded consciousness and connection with the infinite through music, drugs, or probably both. However, note how the meaning of the line changes dramatically through an unfortunate but highly comical malapropism attributed to many who attempt to sing along: "Excuse me, while I kiss this guy." The sounds of the lines are almost identical, and the way Hendrix sings them, the words "the sky" are sung so quickly compared to the earlier words in the line that they seem to merge, leading to a sound which, if one didn't know better, could very well be "this guy." Say it to yourself several times quickly, and you will see how easy the mistake is to make. Here, the comedy arises from the almost identical sounding phrases creating totally different meanings, taking the verse from one about a wonderful, liberated experience with the infinite to one which is far more earthly and human.

For a more subtle literary example, consider the following exchange, and pay special attention to the italicized word: "'The vast majority of your tenants are clearly flawed,' commented Robert forcefully. 'Perhaps,' replied George, 'But then I never claimed to be a discriminating landlord.' The malapropism here rests on the word "tenant," and in order to understand the joke you need to know that Robert really means to use the word "tenet," a very common mistake. "Tenet," the word he means to use, means a principle, premise, or point in an argument, and he wants to say that George's argument is not a good one. Instead, by using the word "tenant" which means someone who lives in your building and pays you rent (making you the landlord), he is really saying that George's renters are flawed in some way. Picking up on this, George replies to the literal meaning of Robert's words, rather than the meaning he intends, exposing the error and making the situation more amusing. The best literary malapropism has this character, and though it is not very common in popular culture today, some sitcoms (like Friends re-runs) employ it, as do some comedic feature films.

Metonymy and Synecdoche

This final article in the series on essential figurative language deals with two terms that students find somewhat difficult to grasp, and often impossible to distinguish from each other. Aside from their difficult spellings and non-intuitive pronunciations, the terms are not even separated from each other unanimously by literary and rhetorical professionals, meaning that students will hear subtly different definitions from various teachers and professors. As in most matters regarding school, remember in this case that, since your teacher or professor is marking you, follow their definition in the work you do for them. This may seem somewhat unfair or unpleasant, but in the end, it will serve you best.

For the purposes of this article, I am going to treat synecdoche as a sub-class of metonymy, though keep in mind that there are those who treat them as completely separate entities, and also those who use the two words interchangeably making no distinction between them whatsoever. Most simply defined, metonymy is the use of a word or phrase in place of another word or phrase to which it is closely related. Like many of the other figures we have discussed, we use this device on a daily basis, to the point where many examples of it cease to seem like figurative language at all, although they are undoubtedly impossible to understand if taken literally. One of the most often used examples occurs in the following sentence: "The White House reported a 45% decrease in spending this year, shocking everyone." Although we hear phrases like this all the time in the news, it is obvious that the White House itself, that building where the federal government makes it primary residence, cannot actually report anything. Note, though, that this is not an example of personification, because no one is actually meaning to suggest that the White House itself is actually making any kind of report, nor speaking. Here, we have used "White House" in place of "the president and his staff," because the White House is so closely associated with these individuals. Note also that there is no metaphor in use here: we are not comparing the White House to the president and his staff, but rather using it as a stand-in for those individuals because of the close connection between them.

Synecdoche is a very similar concept, but a more specific one, substituting a part for the whole, or a whole for the part. Again, an example makes this far more clear: "The captain requests that all hands report to his chambers for further instructions immediately." The key word in this case is "hands," and we can see that it is an example of figurative language by imagining what this would mean if taken literally: the captain wants a group of disembodied hands to meet him? This obviously makes no sense, and we know that the word "hands" is used in place of "crew members," appropriate because on a ship the crew are there to give a hand, and to handle whatever situations may arise. An example of using a whole for the part might be as simple as "the fire department is here!" This seems straightforward since it is so common, but literally this passage is suggesting that the entire department is outside, perhaps even including the administrative offices and all of the related equipment. Obviously, the inclusive phrase "fire department" is being used to refer to the presence of some specific members of the fire department who have arrived to put out a blaze.

If one desires to make a clear distinction between these terms, I believe the following division is the most useful. If, as in the first example dealing with the White House above, the term being used is not an actual part of the thing it is replacing (the White House is not a part of the president and his crew), we have metonymy. If, as in the second and third examples, the word being used is a part of, or contains as a part of itself, the term it is replacing, it is synecdoche.

Common Language Misusages

]It has often been said that native speakers of a language are at a disadvantage when compared to non-native speakers with regard to grammatical precision and correct usage. This seems like the complete opposite of what we might expect, but when we look at the different ways native and non-native speakers learn a language, the strange situation begins to make more sense. Native speakers do not first learn a given language by being taught its rules: that comes later, long after the person has learned to speak proficiently. Children simply absorb the language as it unfolds around them, and so they will adopt the habits and manner of speaking of their parents and peers, learning the correct forms and rules through induction without conscious study or analysis.

As a result, native speakers have a far greater appreciation for subtleties of their native tongue like idiom, abbreviation, contraction, and fluid tones with appropriate transitions and stresses. However, because language is learned by native speakers in the real world and on the fly, they will adopt both the correct and incorrect terms and forms of use that they hear; the person who uses incorrect words therefore cannot really be said to be making a mistake in the truest sense of the word, for they are flawlessly replicating the forms and systems that they have been given. An individual who uses the word "me" in the possessive, as in "I will take me dog to the vet," as opposed to "my," is doing precisely what he or she had learned, not willfully or ignorantly butchering the language.

Non-native speakers, of course, do not learn language the same way. Once we reach our late teen and adult years, we lose out childhood capacity to acquire language naturally and "for free," without significant effort and study. As a result, when we learn a new language, we move deductively, learning the rules first and then forming the language based on them. As a result, it would not even occur to a non-native speaker to substitute "me" for "my," as they would have a solid understanding of the rules surrounding the objective and possessive forms of the personal pronoun. Similarly, the mistakes many of us make between "I" and "me" is simply not a factor for foreign speakers, as they learn the rules for applying them before they ever have a chance to get them wrong.

Note that the terms "incorrect usage" and "poor grammar" presuppose that there is an objective and correct version of the language which invalidates all other forms and variations. However, this is not really the case in any overarching way. As was mentioned above, speakers learn the language that surrounds them, and only convention and the authority of a given group of language users demarcates the "correct" dialect and usage from the "incorrect" versions. In some parts of the world, using "me" for "my" is the norm; only the conventions and rules handed down from authorities like the government, schools, and universities make such usage wrong.

However, despite the relative arbitrariness of the distinctions between proper and improper language use, it is an undeniable fact that one of the last socially sanctioned forms of prejudice rests in our evaluations of how people use language. Using certain phrases and words in ways that are considered incorrect, both in speech and in writing, will undoubtedly lead others (who know and apply the acknowledged linguistic standards) to judge them as being less intelligent, less educated, and perhaps even inferior people. This is not necessarily the case at all, but the fact remains that knowing how to use language properly is vitally important to creating a positive impression, whether that be in the classroom, or in the world at large. Think of this series, then, not merely as an exercise in English, but rather as a guideline to avoiding embarrassment, and to getting the respect you and your ideas deserve.

Two, Too, To

Although successive teachers in every year of our schooling try their best to untangle this diabolical knot of confusion, it never fails that university English professors still have to hold a class after the first papers have been marked to once again explain the difference between the three identical sounding words that are not spelled the same. Whenever a word has exact homonyms (words spelled differently but sounding the same), there is a tendency to use them interchangeably, and while this is unnoticeable in speech, in writing it can lead to errors that make teachers cry. Interestingly, non-native speakers are not very likely to make these mistakes once they become fluent writers, probably because they learn the written form of the word at the same time or even before they learn how it is pronounced, unlike native speakers who learn how the word sounds first, and the written forms only later.

It is easiest in this case to deal with the most distinct form of the three words first, that being "two." Because this form is the most distinct of the three, using it incorrectly is also considered to be the worst error, and if you make it in a classroom much beyond third grade you will likely receive ridicule from classmates and teachers alike. Spelled this way, the word refers to the number 2, and nothing else. It is the only one with a "w," and this distinction alone should be enough to cement it in your mind.

The other forms are not so distinct either graphically (as written on the page) nor semantically (with regard to their meanings), and so confusion between these can last much longer, and plague my email inbox to this day. It is easiest to look at the form "too" first, as its meaning is far easier to articulate. Spelled this way, it means "as well," "in addition to," or "an excess or excessive amount." The first two meanings listed here are for the most part interchangeable, and either phrase can be substituted for "too" in the following sentence: "I want pickles, relish, and mustard too!" In this case, the person wants mustard in addition to, and as well as, pickles and relish. The third meaning occurs when "too" is used as a modifier of an adjective, as in the sentence "He was too big." Whenever you want to suggest that a certain quality is there to a greater degree than is desirable, "too" is the word to use. As an easy way to remember the spelling of this word if you have difficulties doing so, just remember that "too" has an additional "o," an extra "o," or maby an overabundance of "o's." In short, if you remember that there are too many "o's" in "too," you should not confuse it with its other forms any longer.

By the process of elimination, we are left with the final form, "to," and this is perhaps also the best way to identify when to use it. When you want to use one of the tree forms of this word in a sentence, but are unsure as to which one you should pick, think first whether the number two is appropriate, and then consider if you are speaking about an abundance, excess, or addition , which would require "too." If it is neither of these things, it must be the simple, short "to." We use this form of the word so often that not many of us have a positive definition of it. It is a preposition which can indicate motion from one place to another, or which can more generally specify the direction of some action, as in giving something to someone. It is also the first part of the infinitive of verbs, as in "to eat" and "to be." However, since these definitions rely so heavily on grammatical concepts and more complex linguistic concepts than the other forms of the word, the process of elimination is a fine way to ensure you are not using "to" in the wrong place.

Your, You're

Very near the top of the list of common misuses is the pair "your" and "you're," and again, although we are taught the difference between the two from an early age, it seems like using the wrong one at the wrong time is an irresistible temptation few of us are able to resist. The reason for this temptation, as is the case for so many of the words we regularly misuse and confuse, has to do with the sound of the word, and our resultant failure to focus on different spellings for different purposes. There is another homonym for this word pair, "yore," which refers to the idea of a bygone age associated with no specific historical time and place. However, this term is seldom confused with the first two, likely because it is not often used, whereas the other two are very common. This common use is another reason we tend to confuse certain homonyms and not others, for if we use the words on a daily basis, we are more likely to mix them up than words we seldom see.

The word "your" is used to indicate the second person singular and plural possessive forms of the personal pronoun "you." This sounds somewhat complicated, but some example sentences make the point far more clear: "Your handbag is under the bench, and your suitcase is in the closet." Here, we can clearly see that "your" is always and only used to show a person's ownership of a given thing. It can be used to show possession of physical things, as it is in the above sentence, or abstract things, like thoughts or ideas, as in the following sentence: "Your plan looks good to me, but your intentions do not seem noble." Plans and intentions are not concrete things, but "your" is nonetheless used to show who is the source of these abstract entities. If you are writing a sentence which shows no ownership, "your" is not the form you want to use. If you have trouble with applying this word correctly, always ask yourself what is owned by whom in a given sentence. If this question can't be answered, "your" is not the right word.

"You're," on the other hand, has nothing to do with possession, even though it has an apostrophe, which is often an indicator of a possessive form, as in "Billy's baby," or "the dog's bone." In this case, the apostrophe is there as a place-holder for missing letters, which makes "you're" a contraction, similar to "they're" and "we're." The word "you're" is actually a short form for the words "you are," with the apostrophe taking the place of the space, as well as the "a" from "are." Apostrophes are often used for this purpose, and so it is important to remember that this little piece of punctuation is not just used for possession. Here is an example of "you're" used correctly several times in a sentence: "You're never going to get that job because you're too concerned about how much you're going to make, and you're not excited about the work itself." In each of the four uses of the word in this sentence, we can see that "you're" could be substituted by "you are," and the meaning of the sentence would be exactly the same. In fact, this is one of the best tests for differentiating between the two forms of the word; if you can replace it with "you are," you need to use the word "you're." If this replacement does not make sense, the "your" form is the appropriate one to use.

Their, They're, There

Another group of words commonly confused because they are homonyms is the trio "their," "they're," and "there." Unlike some of the other examples we have seen so far in this series, all three of these items are routinely confused with one another, likely because all three are very commonly used in everyday conversation and correspondence, and because none of them has a meaning that makes it stand clearly out from the others in such an obvious way as, for example, "two" stands out from "too" and "to." However, by remembering a few simple facts about each of the three forms of the word, you will be able to distinguish the right form every time without difficulty.

Turning first to "their," it is important to remember that this word is the third person plural possessive form of the pronoun "they." That is a mouthful, but it merely means that it is used to show a that group of people owns something, as in the following example: "Their pet wolf is a danger to the community, but compared to their gun collection, the wolf seems harmless." Like the word "your" discussed in a previous article, "their" is only used to show that a group of people owns something: if you ask yourself who owns what in a given sentence where you want to use "their," and you cannot come up with an answer because no one owns anything, then "their" is the wrong form to use.

The second form of this word, "they're," again like the word "you're" from the previous article, is a shortened form of two words, also known as a contraction. Remember that the apostrophe is not only used to show possession, but also stands in place of omitted letters in most contractions. In this case, "they're" is the contraction for "they are," with the apostrophe taking the place of the space between the two words as well as the "a" in "are." Seeing the word used correctly in context will be helpful: "They're smarter than you think, and they're not going to stop until they're sure you are locked up." In each of the three uses of the word in this sentence, you can substitute "they are" in its place, and the sentence still makes sense. If you can't substitute "they are," "they're" is the wrong form for the situation.

The first two forms of the word are both based on the pronoun "they," but the third form, "there" has absolutely nothing to do with "they." Of the three forms, "there" is perhaps the most difficult to define, as some of its uses are largely empty and primarily syntactic. Most obviously, "there" is used to point to a particular place, as in the following example: "I put the keys over there, on the counter." Its other use is somewhat related, but in current usage, it is not used to point to anything specific. In the sentence "There are many ways to write a good essay," "there" is used as a "dummy" word that is required by the syntax of the sentence. There is no specific "there" place to which it refers, and so it becomes merely a placeholder in the sentence.

To figure out which form of the word to use in a given situation, apply the tests suggested here in order, and then use the form that fits. First ask yourself whether someone is in possession of something, then ask whether you can substitute "there are" in place of the word. If neither of these is applicable, "there" is the only option.

"Literally"

Language, the constantly evolving organism that it is, is transformed by many forces, one of the most powerful of which is the common adoption of what current standards consider an error. Also, although many teachers and professors believe this is a symptom of the times, where standards are lowering and attention to detail is lacking, the phenomenon is likely as old as standardized language itself. For instance, in the 19th century, some authors were criticized for using the term "necessities" where "necessaries" was the correct word for the job. Now, as you well know, "necessities" is the standard term, and "necessaries" has been all but forgotten.

However, since it is still the responsibility of educators, as the unofficial legislators of correct usage, to uphold the standards they have learned and set, you will undoubtedly be corrected and marked down for using certain terms the wrong way. Recently, one such term has become so pervasive that it is not recognized as an error by many, but I assure you that using it will likely make your teachers and professors shed at least a single tear, and I will admit it always makes my blood pressure rise a little when I hear it. The word is "literally," and while the word has some very useful applications, the most recent transformation it is undergoing threatens to undermine its meaning altogether.

"Literally" is closely related to the term "literal," and while both sound like the words "literature" and "literary," they actually have an opposing meaning. "Literature" and "literary" both suggest forms or styles of expression, especially writing; both also suggest something is artistic and fictitious, and not likely to be scientific truth. "Literally," on the other hand, is used to suggest that something is completely true, that things are how you say they are. This meaning of the word is the antonym (the opposite) of "figuratively," which indicates the use of a figure of speech, and indicates that what is being said did not really happen.

Properly speaking, the word "literally" is used when you want to indicate that what you are saying is not being exaggerated or invented in any way. For example, if you saw an enormous orange at a science fair, you might later report to your friends, "I saw this orange at the science fair that was literally the size of my head!" Here, the word literally serves a useful purpose, because without it, people would assume that you were exaggerating. A second, more subtle and witty use of the word "literally" occurs when you want to take a well-known expression, and confer its literal meaning on it. In this example, a referee is speaking to a friend of his:

Referee: "At the party last night the first thing I did was wet my whistle!"

Friend: "Yeah, literally! Bob tells me he saw you swimming with your uniform and whistle on!"

To wet your whistle means to have a drink, usually alcoholic. Here, the referee is using the expression in an unexpected way. In this case, we expect him to be speaking of having a drink, but he literalizes the expression, creating a humorous effect.

There is, however, a new way of using "literally" which is based on a misconception of what the word actually means. The following example is telling: "The comedian was so funny I literally died laughing!" Now, the reason people use "literally" in this way is because they have mistaken the meaning of the word. In the correct examples above, "literally" is used to make certain the listener knows the speaker is not kidding, and it serves to intensify the statement, making it more powerful. As a result, people mistakenly assume that "literally" is merely an intensifying expression, and so use it in situations where it is impossible. In time, people who have heard others use it mistakenly adopt the new way of using it, and the term loses its specificity, as well as its original meaning. The process is underway and is likely irreversible, but if you are reading this, that means all hope has not yet been lost.

Emphasis Quotes

Although this series, as you can see displayed clearly in its title, is focused on not using the wrong word, there are some other ways to go wrong in your writing that count as common misuses as well. Quotation marks are not themselves words of course, but they keep such close company with them that any errors you make using them will have a definite impact on your writing, making it confusing, sloppy looking, or both.

A first point for all of you who have teachers or professors who are sticklers for correct usage is that "quotation mark" is the correct term for those little lines which we see surrounding the word "quotation mark" in this sentence. Many people refer to these simply as "quotes," as in, "I made sure to put quotes around the titles of poems in my last essay." This is widely accepted, and not many people will notice the problem if you do this, but if you are dealing with a true grammar drill sergeant, keep it in mind.

There are many proper uses for quotation marks, the most obvious of which is to enclose a direct quotation. In any essay you write, it is vital that anything you take directly from another written document be surrounded by quotation marks, clearly separating your words and ideas from those of another. In works of fiction, authors also use quotation marks to show where characters are speaking directly, as opposed to the voice of the narrator which is not in quotation marks (unless he or she is involved in a direct conversation with another character and is reporting that as it happened). Two final straightforward uses of quotation marks occur when naming the titles of poems, short stories, essays, and articles, as well as when referring to a word, term, or letter when it is being referred to as such. For example, if I am speaking about the "a" sound in the word "had," the quotation marks are used as they appear here.

The quotation mark also operates in more dubious ways, and using them in cases other than those listed above can be trickier. One such use occurs when authors employ what are known as "scare quotes." These are used to indicate that the author is aware that the term in quotation marks is offensive, not considered appropriate, or at least problematic. In the following example, we can see what the author thinks of the term wrapped in scare quotes: "I have often been accused of having 'gay' taste in movies, but the people using this term are not speaking about sexual orientation. Something is 'gay' apparently when it is considered stupid, silly, or pathetic, and the rise of this term with this meaning in youth culture is both puzzling and unfortunate." The author clearly does not agree with the term as it is being used, and the scare quotes make this clear by distancing the author from the term, and showing an awareness that it is inappropriate in this situation.

A related device is known as "air quotes," often used in conversation and sometimes in writing. This is a borderline case, as some purists disapprove of this use in writing, whereas other professionals see it as acceptable. When used in this manner, the quotation marks indicate that the quoted term is not really the thing it seems to be, as in the sentence "The 'meatloaf' we had at the cafeteria looked more like a living thing than a meal." Here, the author uses quotation marks to cast doubt on whether the meatloaf was actually even meatloaf, and we assume from the rest of the sentence that it was not.

A final and frustrating use of the quotation mark is for emphasis, but this is not considered acceptable usage at all, and using them for these purposes marks the writing in which it appears as amateurish at least. This is most often seen in advertising, though it also unfortunately comes up in many other more formal kinds of writing. Take the following slogan for a take-out restaurant as an example: "Our wings are the 'best' in town!" Here, the owners are trying to highlight the word "best," but what they end up doing is causing us to wonder if "best" is surrounded by scare or air quotes, totally destroying the intended effect. When you want to stress something, use italics, or even bold font, but never, ever the quotation mark.

Objective Case Pronouns

Although the title of this article sounds intimidating to those without any background in grammar, linguistics, or case-dependent languages, "objective case pronouns" is merely a technical way of referring to words like "me," "them," "her," "him," and "us," which are used in place of their subjective counterparts "I," "they," "she," "he," and "we." Most times, native English speakers have little difficulty using the right word in the right place, because they have an intuitive knowledge of which form of the word sounds right in a given situation. However, there are some notable occasions when knowing which to use becomes confusing, and even the best speakers and writers sometimes get things wrong. All of the rules and examples below apply to each pair of prepositions listed above, and you can interchange them without worry.

Some languages have what is known as a case system, which means that (among other things not relevant to this article) pronouns change form depending on their role in a given sentence. Latin and German are prime examples of such languages, which makes sense when you consider that English is comprised of a largely Germanic structure and a significantly Latinate vocabulary. To clarify this with an example, consider the English personal pronoun, "I": "I walked to the store." This is the correct place for I, because it is the subject of the sentence, or in other words, the thing in the sentence which does something. On the other hand, we use the word "me" in other situations where it is not the subject of the sentence, as in the following instance: "Billy took me to the park." Here, Billy is the subject, as he is the thing doing the taking, and I (or "me" in this case) am the thing that Billy is taking. In this case, "me" is called an object in the sentence (more specifically, the direct object), and that is where we get the term "objective" found in the title.

There is also another time when the objective case is appropriate, and that is when the pronoun follows a preposition. To refresh your memory, a preposition is one of those (usually) small words that indicate a place or position, like "in," "to," "by," "near," "around," "behind," "under," "against," "for," and many others. When a pronoun follows a preposition, using the objective case form is appropriate, as we can see in the following sentence: "The money matters more to me than the glory." Looking closely, we can see that "the money" is the subject of the sentence (it is the thing that matters), whereas "me" follows a preposition, disqualifying it for consideration as the subject. So, "me" must be the proper form. The most important thing here is not to fall victim to overcorrection. Most people know that it is improper to use "me" in the subject place, as in "Me and Jill ate some pizza," but it is equally wrong to use "I" in the object position, as in "There is tension between Ted and I." This last usage is very common, but the proposition "between" indicates that "me" must be used here.

The most counterintuitive situation arises when we have a comparative sentence, like "Rick is taller than she." She? This sounds wrong to many native speakers, but always remember to end such sentences in your head with "is." "Rick is taller than she is" sounds perfectly correct, and it will guide you to the correct form in these comparative situations. Finally, being verbs can be tricky, as in this odd-sounding sentence: "The thief is he!" "Him" sounds more normal, but when we see a being verb between the subject and the pronoun, the pronoun must be in the subjective case. To remember this, or even to make it sound right, simply reverse the order of the sentence: "He is the thief!" sounds perfectly correct, and it means the same thing. Remember that the word "is" or any form of the verb acts as an equals sign between the subject and the thing it is likened to, so this reversal is completely valid.

Who, Whom

Over time, distinctions which were once strictly kept in a given language cease to be important, and new distinctions arise that previously had no place. One excellent example of this phenomenon is the difference between "will" and "shall": currently, very few native speakers use the word "shall" at all, and instead use "will" in every case where either would be used in the past. A word that is going in the same direction as the almost extinct "shall" is "whom;" it is still active in the vocabulary, but it is often misused, and once it becomes completely interchangeable with "who," it will very likely fall by the wayside.

The distinction between "who" and "whom" is similar to that between the subjective and objective case pronouns discussed in a previous article. "Who" and "whom" are similar, but they are also considered interrogative pronouns, or pronouns used primarily for questions. Let's begin with a simple, straightforward example sentence: "Who ate the cookies?" This sounds correct to native speakers, and you will not find many people incorrectly using "whom" in this type of sentence. The first position in the simple English sentence is usually the subject position, and this example is no exception. Even though we have no idea whom the "who" in the sentence refers to, it is nonetheless the subject of the sentence, as it is the thing that does the eating of the cookies. Whenever you are trying to determine which form of the word to use, if it will be placed in the subject position, make sure to use the subjective "who" form.

"Whom," on the other hand, is used in objective situations, which means it will seldom (properly) be found in the lead position of a sentence. The following sentence provides a good example of the word in its proper place: "Billy sold whom his car?" In this case, Billy is the subject (because he is the one who is doing the selling), the car is the thing he is selling, making it the direct object, and "whom" is the indirect object, because it is receiving the direct object. Another case where "whom" is the right choice arises in the presence of propositions, as in all of the following sentences:

"Whom did you buy those flowers for?"
"Shelia was the woman for whom I bought the flowers."
"Whom are you afraid of?"
"Officer Rick is the man of whom I am afraid."

Note the position of the preposition in all of these sentences; it comes well after "whom" in the first and third sentences, and before it in the second and fourth. I did not mix these up accidentally, but rather to show an important point which should help to identify when "whom" should be used. Properly speaking, prepositions (note the prefix pre especially) should come before the pronoun in every case, making the first and third sentences technically incorrect. However, prepositions are so commonly placed at the ends of sentences that sometimes those constructions are simply more widely accepted than their very formal sounding counterparts.

However, this is where some slippage in the use of "whom" arises. If I see or say the preposition before the interrogative pronoun, I will know which form of it to use very readily (whom). However, if the preposition moves to the end of the sentence, I will be very tempted to use "who" instead, especially in the case of sentence three when it is in the first position of the sentence. However, in every case where you are having difficulties, find the subject of the sentence, and see whether the "who" of the sentence is doing anything, or is instead having something done to it. If it is doing the action, "who" is right; if not, use "whom" instead.

Could of, Would of, ...

There are some infractions against standard English usage which hardly count as infractions at all anymore, like ending a sentence with a preposition, using "will" where "shall" is correct, neglecting "whom" in favor of "who" in all cases, and splitting an infinitive. Many of these are borderline cases, and depending on how sensitive your grammar detection skills are, and how much you care about the finest details, you may or may not mind how the language has developed. However, there are some misusages that, no matter how common and widespread, will always, I repeat always make educators wince. These kinds of errors are so blatantly based on a misunderstanding that their use will certainly be noticed, corrected, and pointed out for the education of others, and the shame of the offending individual. The improper use of "of" in phrases such as "could of" and "would of" is an excellent example of this kind of mistake, and if you value your reputation in the minds of your teachers and professors, you will never get this wrong in front of them again.

I have received many emails and read some papers that had sentences much like the following: "I would of got there sooner, but I had to eat first." The meaning of this sentence is still clear to any native English speaker who reads it, because it sounds like the sentence it is supposed to be, but I am afraid a non-native speaker who has a reading but no real speaking knowledge of the language would be scratching her head at this strange construction. Why is this? The problem rests squarely on the trespassing preposition "of."

As the non-native speaker would know, English often uses the word "have" to create different verb forms and tenses. It is used to indicate a past time when it is combined with another verb, and in the cases we are discussing, it is used to create a form known as the conditional past. So, when I say something like "I should have brought an umbrella," the verb "should" is a conditional one, suggesting the possibility of some action that did not occur (but which could and should have). The verb "have" acts as a helper or auxiliary verb in this case, placing the conditional action in the past. Non-native speakers might get the verb form wrong, as it is a fairly complex one and involves making changes to three different words in the sentence, but they would not ever substitute "of" for "have."

The reason for this is that non-native speakers learn in a manner that combines text with writing, and so they see the forms of the verbs written as soon as or even before they hear them. So, they know that "have" is a word that can changes the tenses and forms of verbs, whereas "of" has no such power, and would never, ever be used in such a situation. Native speakers, on the other hand, hear the language first, and only learn to write it later. This means that we have a tendency to give priority to the sounds of words, and we have a harder time making written distinctions between words that sound the same or very similar. In this case, contractions make the confusion even easier to understand: "Could've" and "Could of" sound very, very similar if not identical in the flow of a sentence, and so it is no surprise that speakers mix the two up in their heads.

However, note that, although the confusion is understandable, it is nonetheless inexcusable, and anyone who has bothered to learn to write at all would do well to make this distinction. Any of these forms using the word "of" instead of "have" are wrong without exception, so this is one of the most straightforward and easy to remember rules of all.

Strong Verbs

As we have discussed many times in this series already, native English speakers in general have an excellent intuitive sense of the language, but are in some cases unable to converse about it in a technical way like a non-native speaker can. As a result, certain complex rules about the language are easy to miss, and understanding why a mistake has been made can be difficult, especially when the incorrect construction sounds right. In the case of strong verbs, I doubt very highly that most of you reading this article, nor your friends and peers, have much of an idea about what a "strong verb" might be, and this is certainly not your fault. I didn't learn it myself until I began studying foreign languages like German, where the distinction between strong and weak verbs is important for learning the language. However, note that although it is less important in English, knowing what a strong verb is and how it is conjugated properly makes a difference in the quality of your writing and speech, and will allow you to avoid the common misuses that plague so many students without their knowing it.

Most English verbs are known as "regular," meaning that they go through the same transformations we expect for most verbs. In English, this means that the verb changes its ending to reflect its tense, as in the case of the regular verb "to walk." "Walk" is the present tense form, "walked" is the past tense form, and "have walked" is the present perfect (which is really more like a kind of past tense). The important thing to remember here for regular verbs (also known as weak verbs) is that only their ending changes in the past and any tense that requires an auxiliary verb (like "have" or "had") by adding an "ed." Nothing about the stem of the word changes, and so the rule is remarkably easy to remember.

However, things get more difficult when it comes to the strong verbs which are the focus of this article. The weak verbs are perfectly predictable and easy for anyone to learn, but the strong verbs change in ways that are more complex and less predictable. A fine example of a strong verb which causes some difficulty is "to drink." Now, I have never heard anyone who spoke English as their first language make the mistake of saying something like "I drinked too much last night" because this is a very common strong verb and this construction simply sounds terrible. However, I have heard people ignoring the auxiliary form of the verb completely, and this is happening to such a degree that I feel it will not be long before this verb has two, rather than three, principle parts.

The three proper forms of the verb are "drink," "drank," and "drunk," and we can see them in their proper uses in the following sentences:

"I drink far too much every day."
"I drank eight glasses of water yesterday for my diet."
"I have drunk only sparkling water for the last five years."

The first two examples look and sound right to most people, but the third form seems strange to many. That is because, over time, the third form of most strong verbs has been neglected, and the second form has taken its place in everyday conversation, and even in writing in some cases (as we have seen with "to drink"). This is becoming more widely accepted, but if you have a teacher or professor who demands exactness, make sure that whenever you are dealing with a strong verb when it is in company with an auxiliary, use the third form.

Singular and Plural Verb Agreement

Something that new speakers of English have an especially hard time with is the odd rule that forces us to add an "s" to the ends of many verbs in the third person singular form. Again, this sounds complex, but it really just means that when "he," "she," "it," or "one" is the subject of a given verb, we add an "s" to the end of that verb. The verb "to eat," for example, is conjugated in the present tense as follows: I eat, you eat, he eats, she eats, it (one) eats, we eat, you (plural) eat, they eat. Notice only the third person singular forms require this modification, and this baffles many new learners of English because they learn to associate the "s" with making plurals very early on, and in this case, it is only used on some verbs in a singular form. When comics do impressions of foreign speakers, they often use this common error to get a laugh, in sentences like "He talk too fast!" The impressions may be highly exaggerated in general, but in the case of verb agreement, they are largely accurate.

Almost all native speakers get this right every time, and it seems very natural. However, there are some difficult, counterintuitive cases that must be learned and practiced so that they can become natural. Take, for example, the following sentence: "The group of swans fly south for the winter." Is this right? The only way to tell is to examine the sentence, and to see if the verb agrees with its subject, which is not as straightforward a process as it may seem. In this case, the verb is the easier of the two entities to locate because it must be "fly," as that is the only verb in the sentence. Now, we have to ask ourselves, what exactly is doing the flying? It is obvious that it is the groups of swans that is flying, and since there are many swans, the proper verb form is "fly," like in the plural "they fly," as opposed to the singular third person "it flies." So, the sentence must be right.... Unfortunately, this very common and seemingly solid reasoning leads to the wrong conclusion every time.

Thinking back to previous articles, we can recall that the subject is usually in the first position in a sentence, and that the subject never follows a preposition. Looking back to the example sentence, we can see that the first position is occupied by the phrase "the group." The only other contender for the role of subject in the sentence is "swans," but since this word is preceded by a preposition, it is instantly disqualified from consideration. Therefore, the subject of the sentence is "group," and although this noun seems to refer to many things, because it treats them as a single whole, it is a singular noun. As we know, the third person singular form of the verb "to fly" is "flies" (as in "it flies"), and so the sentence should read "The group of swans flies south for the winter." This may sound wrong, but it is absolutely correct. Once you have the subject of the sentence (in this case "group") ask yourself "how many of these things (groups in this case) are there in the sentence: one, or more than one? This takes the focus off the plural swans which don't affect the verb, and places it on the subject. In this case, there is only one group, so the verb is modified for a third person singular subject.

As a final note, remember that "none" is considered a singular noun as well, so that the sentence "None of the swans eats flowers" is correct. To remember this, always replace "none" with "not one" in your head, and this should make the proper form of the verb much easier to remember.

Number, Amount

Most of the errors mentioned so far in this series are either so subtle that we don't often notice them in speech (like misuses of "who"), or absolutely unnoticeable in speech so that we can only see them in writing (like the commonly confused homonyms "to," "too," and "two.") However, some errors are easily noticeable in both speech and print, and the confusion between the correct uses of the words "number" and "amount" happens so often in so many diverse media that I don't remember going a day without hearing such a misuse since I learned the rule some time in high school. I feel at this point I must post a warning to anyone who wishes to read further: if you do not want your great days to be made a little darker, and your darker days to be made absolutely black, do not continue reading. Once you know this rule, you can never unremember it, and you will hear it so often that you may just be driven slowly insane, feeling like you are the only one who knows the truth, alone in a world gone mad.

All melodramatics aside, reputable newspapers and respected major networks like ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN, and even the Canadian CBC make this error regularly in their nation-wide newscasts, the programs which are supposed to be standard English's last stronghold in the world of television. Are you guilty of this error? Read the following sentence and decide for yourself if it is right or wrong, as well as your reasons why: "The amount of refugees fleeing the tiny war-torn country is staggering." If you guessed that this sentence was right, you are wrong, but you are certainly not alone.

The reason this sentence is not technically correct is that it uses the word "amount" where the word "number" is actually correct. The following two sentences show each used in its proper place:

"The amount of water flowing out of the tiny war-torn country is staggering."
"The number of refugees fleeing the tiny war-torn country is staggering."

Notice that these sentences are similar to each other and to the incorrect example sentence above, but they have an essential difference in the subject. In the sentence featuring water, the word "amount" is properly used to describe its magnitude, whereas in the sentences using refugees, "number" is the proper word. The difference is imperceptible if you don't know the rule, but the distinction rests on the difference between count and non-count nouns.

A count noun is one that, well, can be counted. Refugees, regardless of their numbers, are entities that can be counted, and even if we have no idea of the precise number referred to in the sentence, that fact that they can be counted is all that matters. Most count nouns also end in an "s" in the plural, as is the case above, and so this is an excellent hint that "number" should be used rather than "amount."

Non-count nouns, on the other hand, as you would expect cannot be counted. They can be measured, compared, and described in many ways, but counting isn't a concept that even makes sense when applied to them. After all, what would it mean to count water? Another way to identify a non-count noun is to employ the opposite of the "s" plural ending rule mentioned above. Try adding an "s" to the plural of a non-count noun, and you will quickly see that it makes no sense. After all, what would it mean to have many waters, or a number of dirts? Do not, however, fall victim to this "s" shortcut, for there are some count nouns which have odd plurals that do not include an "s," like "deer" and "oxen." Use the final "s" as a hint, but remember, if you can count it, use "number," and if not, use "amount."

The Colon

Ah, the colon. A wonderful organ that is vitally important to have checked, especially if you are a man over the age of 40 with a family history of ...

Although I do think the public service announcement above is a very important one, the colon we will be discussing in this article is the one we see printed on the written page, not displayed in the bright lights of the x-ray machine. Of course, this is not to say that there are no parallels between the two. Everyone hears about their colon so much in popular culture that they think they have a good idea of what it is. Similarly, the colon of punctuation is seen and used so frequently that people believe that they know all about it. In both cases, however, people are lulled into a false sense of security, and in grammar as well as life, checking your colon is of the utmost importance.

All unfortunate medical parallels aside, the colon is one of those pieces of punctuation, much like the comma, that people believe they can just sprinkle wherever they like to create whatever effect they are trying to achieve. Despite this popular and persistent belief, however, there are definite times and places where the colon is appropriate, and many more when it is not. Like all forms of punctuation, there are rules regarding its use, and a failure to obey them results in misusages your teachers and professors are sure to notice.

The first correct use of a colon is as a way to introduce a list of items, but note that it must be placed only at the end of a complete sentence, as in the following example: "We had many items for sale that day, which included the following: shirts, socks, slippers, sandals, and scarves." Many people prefer to use a shortcut when creating lists, and employ the colon not at the end of a sentence, but in the middle of one that requires no colon at all, like this one: "We had many items for sale that day, including: shirts, socks, slippers, sandals, and scarves." This may seem right to many people, but the colon is actually superfluous (extra or unnecessary) in this instance. You can remove it completely, and you are left with a single sentence that is a properly formatted list.

A colon can also be used to introduce an example, and the same guidelines apply. It must be preceded by a complete sentence, and if not, it is likely not necessary. Reading through the examples I have provided in this article (as well as the rest of this series), you can see many good examples of how to correctly use a colon. Keep in mind that when the colon is used in this way, it is useful to make the example a full sentence as well. This is not necessary, but it often sounds and looks better on the page. Also, it allows (actually, requires) you to begin with a capital letter after the colon. If you do not follow the colon with a complete sentence, make sure not to use a capital letter to begin the word or phrase in question.

One final point to remember here is a formatting issue which will save you grief and grades on your assignments and papers. In North America, we tuck most of our punctuation into our quotation marks, as you can clearly see in this example:

"I like you," Rose commented to Bill, "but I don't know how to love you."

Semicolons are treated just like commas and periods, tucked nicely inside, but the colon is a rebel. Always make sure to leave them outside the quotation marks, and you will likely put a smile on your teacher or professor's face.

The Comma

I will admit that I was not surprised when I learned that, in many other languages, the comma had a definite and well defined role to play. In German, for example, every time you have a clause, you set it off from the others by adding a comma. In English, however, the rules for comma use are far less definite, and while we do not use them to set every clause off from every other, we often put them in many other places that speakers of other languages would never dream of.

As we are taught in grade school, a period (known appropriately as a "full stop" in the UK), requires us when reading to make a pause before continuing. A comma is similar, but requires a less significant hesitation. This distinction, however, is almost useless when it comes to knowing when to use and when to avoid using a comma, and there is no shortage of children who use commas in their writing whenever they would have to take a breath when speaking as a result of this vague suggestion.

Young children aside, most of us make mistakes with commas by overusing them. In many people's writing, the comma takes the place of the period, colon, semi-colon, and even the spacebar on different occasions. Using it in place of the period results in a fused sentence, which is really two sentences linked by a stubborn comma who won't give up his place to the period, as in this example: "I like the smell of cats in the morning, blue cats smell especially nice." Now, in addition to the obvious problems the author of this sentence has with regard to certain psychiatric difficulties, he or she also has problems with punctuation. There are complete sentences on either side of the comma, as well as an absence of any words (called conjunctions) which could join them together properly. As a result, the comma should be replaced by a period, which sets each sentence in its proper form.

The comma really shines in its function as a divider of listed items, and this is the place where people are most confident in using it. In the following example, we can see the comma used as it was intended: "Yesterday for breakfast we ate apples, oranges, peaches, plums, grapes, barley, and oats." Note the placement of the comma after each item in the list, and the use of "and" only before the final listed item. There is some confusion here as to whether the penultimate (second-last) item, the one that comes just before the "and," should have a comma after it, and there is no standard answer to this problem. I personally prefer to include the comma, as it divides all of the listed items equally, whereas leaving it out seems to unite the last two items more closely, tempting us to consider them as a single item, but this is merely my own opinion. You can go either way with this, but do remember to be consistent.

Although there are a host of other correct and incorrect ways people use commas, this article must end at some point, and so I will finish with a useful tip which will save you some confusion. Whenever a sentence begins with a term like "however," "thus," "therefore," "moreover," "first" (or any ordinal numbers), as well as prepositional phrases like "in the beginning," make sure to place a comma between it and the rest of the sentence. This serves to make your meaning more clear, and show that you know what the comma is designed to do.

The Semicolon

Although other punctuation is often overused, frequently misplaced, and left out when it is really needed, no mark creates the confusion and fear in students that the semicolon can produce. Most leave it out completely, fearing the thing they do not understand, and the brave few adventurers who believe they know just what it is more often than not get it completely wrong. Hopefully, this article will allow you to sprinkle a few choice semicolons throughout your next piece of writing, all impeccably placed and completely appropriate.

Thinking back to the vague rules you learn in elementary school for a moment (mentioned in a previous article), we remember that a period is a long pause, and a comma a short one. Appropriately, this leaves the semicolon halfway between, a piece of punctuation made of a period stacked on a comma which requires a medium pause when reading a sentence. Knowing how to read a semicolon is not very helpful in learning how to place it correctly in your own sentences, but knowing that the semicolon shares some of the properties of both the period and comma will help you to remember its proper use.

The most common (correct!) placement of the semicolon is at the end of a sentence, just before another complete sentence that is closely related to the first. In the following example sentence, the semicolon is used correctly: "War always leads to many casualties; however, it is a necessary evil." As you can see, the semicolon is placed between two complete sentences, and there are no connecting words needed, since the semicolon itself acts to relate the first sentence to the second. The first sentence here is very closely related to the second, as the second consciously contradicts the first by using "however," and uses the pronoun "it" instead of repeating the noun "war." When two sentences are so closely connected to each other, joining them in some way is appropriate, though remember that using a comma is not sufficient grammatically. A period would work here grammatically, but it would not show the relation between the sentences as well. So, the semicolon is the best form of punctuation for the job, combining the unifying strength of the comma, and the grammatical appropriateness of the sentence-ending period.

Another excellent use of the semicolon is as a divider of items in a list. I know many of you are now asking why you would ever use a semicolon to divide listed items when a comma would do just fine, but there are some cases where a comma is too confusing to be of any use on its own. The following list shows the limitations of the comma: "I have been to Paris, France, London, England, Toronto, Canada, and Tokyo, Japan." Now, if we look closely we can see that the items presented here are not actually all separate entities, but rather pairs of cities and countries. With the punctuation as it stands now, you might be wondering why this person tells you they have been to France after they have already told you they have been to Paris. However, it is also not correct to leave the comma out between the city and the country it is in. Here, the semicolon comes to the rescue by making the pairings obvious: "I have been to Paris, France; London, England; Toronto, Canada; and Tokyo, Japan." In these kinds of lists, as well as those whose items are longer phrases with commas in them, the semicolon works in conjunction with the comma to make the list much easier to understand.

He / She, They

As we have seen throughout this series, errors in usage range on a wide continuum from the completely unacceptable to the virtually unnoticed, the former being the easiest to correct, the latter being largely unrecognized as mistakes. The use of "they" to create a plural where the singular "he" or "she" would be grammatically appropriate falls into the latter category, since it has become so commonly used in speech and increasingly popular even in writing, both formal and informal. This may be an example of a usage error that will in time become standard, but for now, your stricter English instructors will still pull out the red pen when they see examples of it on your papers and exams.

When you begin a sentence with a singular noun or pronoun, when you want to use a pronoun that refers back to it later in the sentence, a singular form is always appropriate, and putting a plural pronoun in its place is technically incorrect. Read the following example, and try to spot the error, paying close attention to the pronouns: "The teacher is the center of the classroom, though they are often isolated by their authority and their responsibility to discipline the students." Here, the subject of the sentence is "the teacher," which in this case refers not to any particular teacher, but rather to "teacher" taken as a category, considered in a more general and abstract way. Since this is a singular noun, any references to "teacher" throughout the sentence should also be in the singular. Therefore, "they," "their," and "their" in this sentence should be changed to the singular forms "he," "his," "his;" or "she," "her," and "her" to be considered grammatically correct.

Now, of course, we come to the reason why this common error has become so widespread, especially over the last 15-20 years. Substituting "he" in place of "they" poses no problem, nor does substituting "she" in place of "they." The problem has arisen in the wake of continued developments in the realm of feminist and gender theory, which suggest that using "he" to refer to an individual or category of individuals which encompasses both men and women, as was the common practice for many years, shows an unacceptable gender bias which must be corrected. As a result, some authors began using "she" exclusively in this case, while others opted for even more equalizing and inclusive constructions like "he or she," "he/she," or the interesting but not widely employed "(s)he" or "s/he." Since gender in English is considered "natural," meaning that only male and female things get assigned a gender in the language and its structures (unlike, say, French, where all nouns are either masculine or feminine regardless of whether they have any natural gender characteristics at all), the argument for inclusion was tenable, but it complicated certain constructions, and made them thoroughly unwieldy. For example, the example above properly written with gender considerations taken into account would look like this: "The teacher is the center of the classroom, though he or she is often isolated by his or her authority and his or her responsibility to discipline the students."

As a result of these awkward constructions, it became much easier, especially when speaking, to merely pluralize the pronouns, since English plural pronouns are gender-neutral. No one is likely to correct you if you use these forms in casual correspondence or conversation, but in formal writing, this error is likely to be pointed out. To avoid this problem, you can use the long gender-neutral constructions as shown above, or you can be a little craftier and instead change the opening noun to a plural form. So, in our example, "the teacher" becomes "teachers," and you can use the plural pronoun forms throughout the rest of the sentence.

Misplaced and Dangling Modifiers

Read the following sentence, and judge whether it is correct or incorrect: "Walking carefully through the garden, it was amazing to find ten different animals." Made your guess? If you said that this sentence, which seems perfectly normal and clear, is actually incorrect, you understand the common problem of the dangling modifier. Just about any fluent speaker of English could paraphrase the meaning of this sentence accurately; someone is walking in a garden, and this person (or these people) found ten different animals. However, it is precisely the missing "someone" which makes this sentence incorrect. Rendered properly, the sentence could read "Walking carefully through the garden, I was amazed to find ten different animals." Although the difference is very subtle, it is nonetheless very important, not for successful communication (since people will know what you mean in this case), but for grammatical accuracy.

The first example sentence is what is known as a "dangling modifier," which basically means that something which modifies the subject of the sentence is "dangling" without any subject to modify. Looking at the first sentence again, what is the subject, what is doing the walking through the garden? "It" is only a dummy word here, used to make the syntax of the second half of the sentence work. The animals are certainly not walking, but are rather the things found on the walk. This leaves us without any nouns or pronouns to look to, and so we can see that this sentence actually has no subject, and so is not a real sentence at all, but rather a strangely complete-sounding fragment. The second sentence solves this problem, by introducing the pronoun "I" directly after the long modifier which leads the sentence. In cases like this, when you lead the sentence with a phrase that does not contain a subject, always make sure to follow it directly with the subject of the sentence, which will be the thing that is doing the action mentioned in the opening phrase.

Misplacing your modifiers can also lead to confusion and accidental humor, as it does in the following example: "As the criminal ran away from authorities on the train, he was shot in the caboose." Now, this amusing sentence makes what actually happened difficult to discern because the modifier "in the caboose" is misplaced, leaving the reader to decide if the man was shot while he was in the caboose of the train, or whether he was shot in his butt, for which "caboose" is a very common slang term. The way this sentence is written, the latter meaning is actually better supported by the grammar of the sentence, though we can imagine that if we read this in a newspaper we would assume the author intended the former meaning. Avoiding such confusion is possible if you are careful to place modifiers near what they modify, and away from other things they could modify. To make this sentence clearer (although less funny), it could be rewritten as follows: "As the criminal ran away from authorities on the train, he was shot as he entered the caboose." Here, by placing "as he entered" in place of "in," it becomes crystal clear that the sentence is not describing in what part of his body the criminal was shot, but rather his location as he was shot.

Here is another amusing example of modifiers causing confusion and humor: "Swinging from branch to branch, I saw the active monkey smiling and eating bananas." In this case, the sentence is grammatically correct, as the pronoun "I" (the subject of the sentence) follows the lead modifying phrase. However, remembering that the modifier must modify the first noun or pronoun that follows it, it is the watcher, the human "I" who is swinging from branch to branch as he sees the monkey! To correct this error, move the lead phrase to a position after "monkey" so that it is clear what is doing the swinging, or get rid of the "I" completely, and make the sentence entirely about the monkey. Either solution is correct, and will resolve the confusion created by the first sentence.

Unnecessary Redundancy

For those of you who already know this one, the title of this article, "unnecessary redundancy" may strike you as a great irony; I have committed the very error that this article sets out to explain. However, since I am now explaining to you that I have done this intentionally, I hope you won't think less of me for it.

To explain what I am talking about, let me first describe how the title of this article is guilty. The noun "redundancy" refers to something extra and not needed, or in other words, unnecessary. The adjective "unnecessary," therefore, is itself completely unnecessary, because "redundancy" already carries the idea "unnecessary" as part of its meaning. So, the article could more succinctly be titled "Redundancy," because "unnecessary" adds nothing to the title at all.

The title example is perhaps the most amusing and ironic one of all, but there are many other common examples of redundancy we see in everyday conversation and writing. In the following sentence, see if you can find the redundancy and make the appropriate correction: "It was 10:00 AM in the morning, and the dog was howling while chasing the cat." In this case, the dog and cat are doing what dogs and cats do, and so there is no problem with that part of the sentence. However, the time in the sentence is written redundantly, because "AM" indicates that we are talking about ten in the morning, not ten at night. Therefore, by deleting either "AM" or the phrase "in the morning," you can remove the redundancy from the sentence.

A redundant construction you have likely heard thousands of times in your life, especially in advertising, occurs in the following example: "Order your SuperBlender now, and receive a complimentary free gift!" The noun "gift" which ends the sentence indicates something free of charge which will be granted to someone; a gift requires nothing to be given in return. Keeping this definition in mind, we turn now to the word "free" which comes just before "gift;" "free" in this case means "without cost, requiring no payment, given in exchange for nothing." So, the phrase "free gift" is redundant, since a gift is always free, and the idea of "free" is included in the definition of the word. Going further, we come to the word "complimentary," which is a near synonym of "free," and means that something is given "compliments of the house," or without charge by whoever is doing the giving. Obviously, this merely repeats the adjective "free," doing nothing to add to the definition of "gift," and so it too is redundant and can be removed. In this case, "gift" on its own would be best. Advertisers might want to make the idea of "without charge" as prominent as possible so that consumers are sure to notice they will be getting something without paying for it, but as far as good usage is concerned, the phrase is just redundant.

In order to check for redundancy, you can employ a relatively simple test to judge whether the adjectives you have used are already contained in the nouns they describe. In the example above, "free gift," consider what the opposite of a free gift would be. The term "expensive gift" or "costly gift" doesn't really make sense in this context. Would someone offer you a gift that you had to pay for? From here, you can ask yourself if there is such a thing as a gift that isn't free. Since there isn't (this would contradict the meaning of the word "gift"), you can be sure that the adjective "free" is redundant.

Bad Negation

Making a statement negative in English is a relatively straightforward affair, especially compared to other languages, like German, which have more than a dozen different ways to make a statement negative. Native English speakers have no problem placing "not" or "no" in the right place to make a sentence say the opposite of what it would without these little words, but there are some more complex cases that are the cause of some very common errors.

The first and most obvious misuse of the negative is a favorite of many teachers and professors alike, and it is known as the double negative. An example which will make your instructor jump onto your desk and strike you in a blind fury reads as follows: "I ain't got no money." First, the term "ain't" meaning "is not" or in this case, "haven't," is universally recognized as poor English. Next, since this term already expresses the negative, no further negations are needed and so "no" is unnecessary. In fact, some scholars argue, when you have two negatives in a single clause, they cancel each other out, resulting in your actually saying the opposite of what you mean. In the above example, you are saying that you do not have no money, which means that you actually do have some money.

Taking a quick historical digression, we can see that the above rules were not always standard English. "Ain't" is a form of "isn't" which dates back hundreds of years, and is still predominant in certain dialects, even though it is officially considered improper. The idea of the double negative, as well, is certainly not a natural native English idea, because Old English (or Anglo-Saxon), the parent language of Modern English, allowed a speaker to pile up negatives, and each one only served to stress how strongly negative the statement was! 17th century scholars undertook a concerted effort to standardize the English language, and so many of the rules we have today which seem somehow unnatural are attributable to this movement, which often attempted to apply Latin forms to English grammar. However, knowing the history of these developments will not get you good grades on your next paper, and although it might make for an interesting class discussion, protesting that your double-negatives have a proud history in English will not save you from the dreaded red pen.

Another very common error in negation comes from the misuse of limiting terms such as "but," which we can see in the following example: "I couldn't help but notice her earrings were made of chocolate." In this use, "but" is a near synonym of "only," and it should always be interchangeable with it as it is in this sentence: "I had but (only) three dollars to my name." As you can see, "but" cannot truly negate a statement; its power is in limiting a number or amount. So, in the sentence ""I couldn't help but notice her earrings were made of chocolate," the "but" makes no sense, and the sentence should be written ""I couldn't help noticing her earrings were made of chocolate." The negation is completed by the "not" found contracted in the word "couldn't," and nothing more is needed.

Another popularly misused limiting term is "hardly," as in the title of the movie Can't Hardly Wait. Although the writers and producers of this film knew quite well that they were making a mistake when they wrote this, it is such a typical teenage misuse that we can see why they used it as the title of a teen movie. In this case, "Can't Wait" or "Can Hardly Wait" is what is intended, the difference being that the first suggests that any waiting is impossible, while the second suggests that waiting will be difficult, but that some small amount of waiting will be possible.

The Lowest of the Low

The majority of the items explored in this series, if not all of them, are defensible if you look at the history of the language, or at how they are most often used today. Even the ones that are considered poor grammar by almost everyone have historical precedents which were completely acceptable at some time in the past, or have been used widely for long enough that they can be considered linguistic developments rather than mistakes. At base, there is really no ultimately objective basis for standard English, and so it relies on a combination of history, tradition, popularity of use, and the authority of scholars both past and present. That being said, there are nonetheless some constructions which mark the speaker as uneducated or ignorant, and while this may be completely unjust, it is nonetheless the case. Therefore, to end this series, I present a short list of the worst offences, mistakes that will harm your standing in academic circles and drive your English mark down shockingly quickly.

"Ain't" is perhaps the most reviled word known to educators in English, and from the time you are old enough to attend school, you are strictly warned never to use it. Although it has a long history in the language as we discussed in a previous article, it is no longer an acceptable form, neither in speech nor in writing. It is obviously a substitute for negative forms like "isn't" or "aren't," but even its status as a contraction makes little sense in modern English. After all, what is being contracted? It looks like "ai" and "not" have been combined here, but the first of these words no longer has any meaning or connection to modern speech. "Ain't" is a four-letter word, and should be treated as such whenever you don't want to sound like a simpleton.

Another group within the untouchable class of English errors is the ridiculed past and present perfect forms of "bring," which are "brang" and "brung." There is a long history associated with these words, and it is easy to see that they follow the same pattern as strong verbs like "ring," which is conjugated "rang" and "rung" in the corresponding tenses. However, the form "brought" has come to replace both of these alternate forms, and this has been the case for so long that the other forms have become inappropriate. Even if used in informal conversation, "brang" and "brung" will likely lead you into a good shaming.

One of my personal pet peeves is sadly gaining some popularity, and I have heard it at least 5 times already this week on television alone. The word is "irregardless," and it means "without consideration for the previous point," or in other words, "without regard for something." However, note that the word "regardless" actually does the job in this case, and we can see that the word "regard" combined with the suffix "less" (meaning "without"), already means "without regard." "Ir" added to the front of this term is redundant at best, contradictory at worst, and has likely only arisen because "with regard to something" is a very similar idea to "with respect to something," and "irrespective" is the proper way of negating that term. Now that you know, don't make this mistake!

Finally, we have an example of what is known as a "back construction," which is when a word in one part of speech (say, a noun) is made into another part of speech (say, a verb). This is very common in English, but problems arise when the newly formed word is based on a word that itself is based on a word which already occupies that part of speech. My least favorite of these is the word "conversate," based on the noun "conversation." In reality, "conversation" is based on the verb "converse," a word that has fallen out of wide popular use. So, being unaware that there was already a verb for the job, some creative individual made up a new one based on the noun, and we are left with a longer verb that does the same job as the old one less elegantly. Avoid this, tell your friends to avoid it, and if you get the chance, please tell my friends to avoid it as well. They are sick of listening to me about it, so I need others to help save my sanity.

Using Advanced Rhetorical Devices to Surprise and Delight

Introduction

In the previous two series we covered many topics that are essential to any student, and that are important to anyone who does not want to sound completely out of place in the company of educated people. For better or worse, we find ourselves in a time where the focus of educational institutions is the production of individuals who will be able to participate in the workforce, rather than the development and broadening of students' minds. The devices and errors presented in the previous two series, while they may be revelations for many, would have been considered elementary fifty years ago, and anyone who successfully graduated from high school would have been expected to know and use them properly.

As education in North America has moved away from teaching classical content like Latin and Greek, and toward teaching more practical skills and concepts, the study of rhetoric, the backbone of classical learning, has all but disappeared. We are now at a point where students do not know classical rhetoric, which is not all that surprising; what is shocking, however, is that the majority of students do not even know what the word rhetoric means! The only place it survives in popular usage is in the term rhetorical question, and while students do have a good idea of what this term means, rhetorical is not a word for them that can stand on its own.

The situation is what it is, and I do not expect there to be a revolution in educational priorities anytime soon. However, I do believe it is a crime that students who have graduated with a bachelor's degree, who will be in positions of power and authority in our society, do not have the tools (developed about two millennia ago!) needed to delve into the language which powers every move they will make. Students commonly argue against the relevance of rhetoric, claiming that they will "never use it again" once they leave school. My usual reply is that whether or not you use it, it will without a doubt be used around you, and sometimes against you. This might not seem like such a dangerous thing, but we cannot forget that rhetoric is essentially the art of persuasion. Whenever you watch a clever ad or hear an inspiring political speech, you can be assured several rhetorical tactics are being deployed to convince you that you need what is being offered, whether it be a product or a pension plan. If you know what they are and how they are designed to work, you will recognize them when you hear them, and empower yourself to analyze the content of the words without being sucked in by rhetorical lures. I believe the study of rhetoric is valuable in itself, but in this time of all-enveloping information, it can be an important safeguard to the autonomy of individual thought.

Before embarking on this series of articles, I strongly suggest you read through the previous series; these serve as a necessary foundation for what follows here, and without a grasp of the basics, the more advanced concepts will be more difficult to comprehend. The language of this series will be somewhat more challenging at times. Few rhetorical terms are heard outside advanced college classes, but remember that the devices they describe are all around us in everyday speech and writing. Aside from the aforementioned general life benefits, knowing rhetoric in the current academic environment will vault you above your peers, and you can bet the first time you use the term pleonasm or tmesis in a paper, your instructor's comments will be glowing.

Using Advanced Rhetorical Devices to Surprise and Delight

Zoomorphism

Many students are surprised to hear that for almost every effect which can be created in language, the rhetoricians have given it a name. The origins of formal rhetoric date back to the Greeks and Romans, who made the study of rhetoric one of the most important aspects of education. Several scholars developed detailed taxonomies of the tropes and figures that they had defined, and many of these terms, complete with their Greek and Latin roots, have survived unaltered through the centuries, despite their journey through different languages and cultures.

Zoomorphism is no exception to the above statements, as we can see from its prefix zoo, shared by such words as zoology, and of course, zoo is itself a word which will no doubt help you remember what this term means. As you might have guessed, it is used to refer to animals, and you can be sure that if a word contains zoo, it has something to do with our furry or scaled friends. Looking at the rest of the word, we see further classical origins, as the word morph is used to denote the process of change or transformation. This leaves us with the roughly translated term animal transformation, and while this is not elegant, it goes a long way toward describing what the term zoomorphism means.

Zoomorphism describes the attribution of animal characteristics to humans or humanlike beings (like gods), or more broadly conceived, to anything at all which is not an animal. The tradition of zoomorphism dates back beyond historical memory, as even the earliest religions and cultures tell stories of gods transforming into animals, or appearing in animal form. In Greek myth, for example, Zeus was anything but a faithful husband, and he often made trips to the realm of the human in order to impregnate human women. To achieve these ends without detection, he would often go in the guise of a given animal, like a swan or even a bull. This resulted in some frightening encounters, but the boundaries of possibility in myth are wide open. A famous example of zoomorphism can also be found in the Bible, where Nebuchadnezzar gets transformed into a bovine. Native American and other tribal traditions often feature totems very prominently, although whether this is simply zoomorphism is open to debate. Attributing animal characteristics to a god fits the bill, but if they are granting the animals human and godlike features, this is anthropomorphism. It seems to me like their belief is a combination of both, although before you cite this in a report you would do well to verify this with a native individual.

Aside from the more obvious forms of zoomorphism discussed above, other more subtle forms pervade speech and literature in all cultures. For example, if I call someone a pig, listeners immediately know I am insulting the person, likely commenting on how sloppy or generally disgusting they are. Every language has a whole host of common animal associations, and English is certainly no exception. A sly person is a fox (as is an attractive woman), a hard worker is a horse, a dishonest person is a snake, a coward is a chicken, a blind person is a bat, and a good swimmer is a fish. Based on these common associations, it is also possible to use less direct zoomorphic comparisons to great effect, often through the use of metaphor, as in the following example: "Billy is still slithering through the grass in Florida, but I expect him to show his fangs again when he gets to Toronto." Here, it becomes evident that Billy is a disreputable fellow, as his slithering and his fangs both point to his snakelike nature.

Using Advanced Rhetorical Devices to Surprise and Delight

Rhetorical Question

Unlike many of the terms which will be presented in this series, the term rhetorical question still has a place in the modern lexicon, and most people have some idea of what the term means. A lot of comedy has been created around the term, as every sitcom produced after 1980 has at least one episode where someone answers a rhetorical question as if it were not rhetorical at all. Our everyday speech is also infused with a large number of stock rhetorical questions, and although their constant use has diminished their rhetorical strength, they nonetheless serve as good examples.

A rhetorical question is a statement which looks like a question, but which is actually designed to make a point which will be evident to the listener or reader. In other words, the form it takes is that of a question, but its meaning leaves no real room for any answer but the one the speaker intends. In the following example, we can see a series of rhetorical questions which all point to one obvious conclusion: "How can the government justify the torture of innocent animals? What moral authority do they possess that allows them to rule over the life and death of God's creatures? How stupid must they think we are to offer us money to stop the protests!" Here, it is obvious that the speaker is totally and categorically opposed to animal mistreatment. Therefore, we don't read his questions as questions, but rather as ways of stating his position. Looking at the first sentence, the way the content is presented tells us that the answer to the question has been decided long before it was asked. The words torture and innocent animals all show strong emotion, and a definite bias for the animals and against the way they are being treated. When phrased in this way, it is obvious that the government (or anyone or anything, really) could not possibly justify such actions, since they are presented in language that makes them unjustifiable. The punctuation of the third sentence in the example is also very telling; note that it ends in an exclamation point rather than a question mark, even though it is otherwise presented in the order of a question. This is acceptable, and shows how emphatic, rather than questioning, the rhetorical question can be.

In everyday life, we also have a host of rhetorical questions that we use on a daily basis. For example, if I ask someone "What is the matter with you!" I am not really expecting a response. This question is reserved for times when someone has done something especially stupid, and it has the function of accusing the person of having something wrong with them, rather than sincerely asking what specific difficulty they have. Remember, the word rhetorical in the term rhetorical question indicates that the question is being asked in order to achieve a certain effect, which is the basis of all rhetoric. I am sure many of you are asking why you wouldn't simply make the statement you want to make without using a question at all, and again this goes back to effect. Statements, especially forceful ones, are not inclusive of the listener, since they give a single viewpoint from a single source, and require no real thought to understand. If I instead use a question to make my point, or a series of questions, my tone and sentence structure immediately and automatically prompt the listeners to think more closely of what I have said, and to formulate an answer, even if the answer is evident. In this way, I am enabling them to take my own thoughts, process them, and come to the same (inevitable) conclusions I have. Also, by presenting questions in such a way that only one answer is possible, I am strongly encouraging others to think like I do, since they become immersed in the viewpoint my string of words has created. It takes far less effort to reject a view presented in a straightforward statement than to analyze the problems with a rhetorical question in order to find what underlying assumptions it employs; since there are more layers to cut through in order to see where the problems are, it is far easier and more tempting just to go along with the feeling of what is being said, which is a powerful force in the realm of persuasion.

Using Advanced Rhetorical Devices to Surprise and Delight

Anaphora

For at least the last century, there has been a steady movement toward succinctness of expression in writing. This is at least partly attributable to the modern movement in literature and criticism, which extolled the virtues of the lean, strong, masculine verse, as well as to the rise of science, which demands precision and clarity of meaning. Your instructors likely pick your writing apart for failures in these areas, as wordiness is now considered one of the deadly sins of effective writing. Personally, I do believe that trimming can often make well written poetry and prose much more effective, but there must be a balance between the efficiency of an expression and its persuasive and emotional impact. This is where rhetoric comes is; rhetorical devices are efficient ways to convey viewpoints and information while evoking emotional and aesthetic responses. There is always a more direct way to phrase something than to use a rhetorical device, but remember that persuasion and beauty are other worthy goals which are not serviced as well by unadorned prose.

Anaphora is one device that obviously violates principles of succinctness in favor of aesthetic and emotional ends. This term describes the repetition of words or phrases at the beginning of successive sentences, clauses, or lines, in order to emphasize the importance, magnitude, power, or some other aspect of the repeated word(s). The repetition can be limited to the first word of each textual segment, or it can be as long as the segment continues. In the following example, the anaphora is somewhere between the two extremes: "I need your touch. I need your smell. I need your taste, your voice; I need you more than life."

Under normal circumstances, writers try to vary the words they use in a given section of text, and avoid placing the same words in close proximity to one another, because this can sound clumsy and jarring. However, when anaphora is used, the repetition is so obvious and intentional that it serves to order the entire passage in which it is employed, giving it a songlike or poetic feel. In this example, the author could have chosen to make this list far differently, an example of which follows: "I need your touch, smell, taste, and voice; I need you more than life." This is fine, and entirely grammatical, but it is definitely lacking something. In the first example, the repetition of I need continually brings us back to the depth of feeling the speaker has for each of the things he says he needs. He needs each of these things, and each one is so important that it receives its own individual and complete statement. The pauses required between each repetition also helps the drama of the situation, as you can imagine the speaker taking a breath and summoning all his strength before uttering each item on the list. Note that the third line contains a slight variation, with two items presented together behind a single I need. It is important to remember that such variation is important even when using a device like anaphora, because although the essential structure of the repetition should be maintained to achieve the desired effect, other aspects of the lines can and should be altered to keep the lines flowing, and to make them fresher and less predictable.

Anaphora is a device that you will find only infrequently in regular speech, since it requires a suitably important subject and careful wording to make it effective. It finds its most comfortable home in song and poetry, where the patterned arrangement of leading words is another effect which can be combined with rhyme and a host of others to make the sounds of the words as aesthetically pleasing as the images and sensations the words convey. Political speeches also accommodate anaphora easily, since politicians want to make sure they drive their important ideas deeply into the minds of listeners through repetition and pleasing parallel items.