Writing Help 129 | - ☆ Freelance Writer
Apr 04, 2013 | #1
Using Advanced Rhetorical Devices to Surprise and Delight
Most of the devices we have examined so far have relied on the construction of patterns and repetitions to create meaning and to produce rhetorical punch. There are some devices, however, which must tear apart normal linguistic structures to achieve their effects, and anacoluthon is one such example of these. Looking at the word more closely, if you have read the other articles in this series you can likely already state its language or origin. It comes from the Greek word anakolouthon, which can be divided into its prefix an, meaning not, combined with the root word akolouthos, meaning follow. This translates approximately to not following, or does not follow, and this is a fitting name for the phenomenon this device describes. An even more suitable translation is without completion, and this strikes at the heart of what anacoluthon does.
Anacoluthon occurs when a sentence shifts syntax, beginning with a construction that is not completed by what follows after it. The following example shows the two halves of the sentence that are not syntactically compatible through a shift in formatting: "After all these years, all the time and money I have spent on you, and you just wake up one morning and say goodbye with no explanation!" Looking at the first half of the sentence, we can see that the lead word after indicates the sentence is beginning with a subordinate clause, meaning that a main clause led by a subject must follow it for it to be grammatically correct. Appropriately completed, this sentence might look like this: "After all these years, all the time and money I have spent on you, I can't believe you are leaving." However, in the example of anacoluthon above, the main clause never arrives, and instead the last half of the sentence finishes a thought that is obvious, but not grammatically presented in the first half of the sentence.
In the next example, we see a subject and verb set up in what should be a main clause, but a lack of object or compliment to complete the thought leaves the sentence incomplete: "I could really use, ah, never mind, you probably wouldn't give them to me anyway." The subject I states that he or she could use ... something, but this thing is never named, and the direct object slot in this sentence is never filled by anything. Instead, the sentence shifts syntax, and the object is only ever implied.
Both of the above examples are grammatically incorrect, and if you construct sentences like these on your formal writing assignments, expect to be marked down significantly. However, since we are discussing rhetorical devices, it is obvious that this grammatical disjunction must be productive of an effect which makes breaking the rules of grammar worthwhile. The main thing we notice about this device is that it occurs spontaneously in regular speech all the time, to such an extent that we often fail to notice it. Part of the reason for this is that it is more difficult to hold the various pieces of a long sentence together in memory to strict grammatical standards; as a result, we sometimes let the general point or points we want to make take precedence over the syntax of the sentence, so that we jump to what we really want to say before we have technically finished what we have begun saying. This is especially true when we are angry, upset, or excited, and the intensity of our emotions can serve to break up our smooth prose significantly. So, anacoluthon is most often used to convey these sorts of emotions, and is an effective way to represent actual speech.
Anacoluthon
Most of the devices we have examined so far have relied on the construction of patterns and repetitions to create meaning and to produce rhetorical punch. There are some devices, however, which must tear apart normal linguistic structures to achieve their effects, and anacoluthon is one such example of these. Looking at the word more closely, if you have read the other articles in this series you can likely already state its language or origin. It comes from the Greek word anakolouthon, which can be divided into its prefix an, meaning not, combined with the root word akolouthos, meaning follow. This translates approximately to not following, or does not follow, and this is a fitting name for the phenomenon this device describes. An even more suitable translation is without completion, and this strikes at the heart of what anacoluthon does.
Anacoluthon occurs when a sentence shifts syntax, beginning with a construction that is not completed by what follows after it. The following example shows the two halves of the sentence that are not syntactically compatible through a shift in formatting: "After all these years, all the time and money I have spent on you, and you just wake up one morning and say goodbye with no explanation!" Looking at the first half of the sentence, we can see that the lead word after indicates the sentence is beginning with a subordinate clause, meaning that a main clause led by a subject must follow it for it to be grammatically correct. Appropriately completed, this sentence might look like this: "After all these years, all the time and money I have spent on you, I can't believe you are leaving." However, in the example of anacoluthon above, the main clause never arrives, and instead the last half of the sentence finishes a thought that is obvious, but not grammatically presented in the first half of the sentence.In the next example, we see a subject and verb set up in what should be a main clause, but a lack of object or compliment to complete the thought leaves the sentence incomplete: "I could really use, ah, never mind, you probably wouldn't give them to me anyway." The subject I states that he or she could use ... something, but this thing is never named, and the direct object slot in this sentence is never filled by anything. Instead, the sentence shifts syntax, and the object is only ever implied.
Both of the above examples are grammatically incorrect, and if you construct sentences like these on your formal writing assignments, expect to be marked down significantly. However, since we are discussing rhetorical devices, it is obvious that this grammatical disjunction must be productive of an effect which makes breaking the rules of grammar worthwhile. The main thing we notice about this device is that it occurs spontaneously in regular speech all the time, to such an extent that we often fail to notice it. Part of the reason for this is that it is more difficult to hold the various pieces of a long sentence together in memory to strict grammatical standards; as a result, we sometimes let the general point or points we want to make take precedence over the syntax of the sentence, so that we jump to what we really want to say before we have technically finished what we have begun saying. This is especially true when we are angry, upset, or excited, and the intensity of our emotions can serve to break up our smooth prose significantly. So, anacoluthon is most often used to convey these sorts of emotions, and is an effective way to represent actual speech.