The use of metaphor and simile may be that one area that most
separates struggling new poets from the published, or at least,
"working" ones. The ability to transform the commonplace
is the poet's greatest gift, and there are no more viable gifts
for transforming than that of the metaphor and its cousin, the
simile
Rather than just making a matter-of-fact statement, the
metaphor or the simile gives us ways to make a statement even
"more direct than direct," if that's possible-- in
short, to make it something transcendent. It's like looking at one
of Andrew Wyeth's paintings, where wind blowing through a lace
curtain becomes a gulf of possibilities, yet is itself, just a
window and curtain, and some air.
This effect is created not merely by describing an object in
some detailed manner (such as using adjectives and adverbs or, in
the above case, paint-strokes), but by juxtaposing objects and
action in a way that the object might remind a person of another
thing, another time, another idea, another emotion. The phrase
"like looking at one of Andrew Wyeth's paintings" is
itself, a simile. "More direct than direct" is a
metaphor. So is "gulf of possibilities." What did these
things, once stated, "mean" to you? The answer, at least
the complete answer, might well rest with who YOU were. And that
is the purpose of metaphor and simile--to broaden our outlook, to
consider all the possibilities of each reader's own experience
and, in so doing, gain some greater understanding of the depth of
a love, the degree of a hate, the purity of a soul. Are we talking
magic here? Yes, it's magic. Now, what exactly ARE simile and
metaphor?
A simile is a comparison of two things, using a phrase that
begins with "like" or "as."
A metaphor is an actual replacement or transformation of one
thing for or to another, not just a comparing--an actual REPLACING
in the context of a statement or image.
Some examples.
Desire like a
blast-furnace
consumes me.
(That's a simile [like a blast furnace], a comparison of two
things using "like" or "as.")
Lust falls down two
flights of stairs
I say hello to her.
(That's a metaphor of personification [Lust falls down two
flights of stairs], and a metaphor is a direct transformation,
transference, or replacement, if you will, of one thing into or
for something else--lust didn't really fall down two flights of
stairs, but you get the picture.)
Now, let's take it further. You need to watch out that you
don't MIX your metaphors, juggling too many different TYPES of
images in the same work.)
Lust falls down two
flights of stairs
I say hello to her.
Marrow shivers like
a featherless penguin on ice
as I move to speak
again.
Line 3 is a different image totally out of left field (itself a
bad metaphor!)-- it doesn't work well with what came before it.
Once you've laid down a metaphor or simile, be consistent with it.
You are not just writing cute, isolated lines-- you're writing a
POEM, a work of art that builds upon itself as it goes along.
How about:
Lust falls down two
flights of stairs--
I say hello to her.
But it comes out
Chaplin, not only the stance,
but the sound.
Here, we stayed with the same TYPE of metaphor-- slapstick
silent cinema, and in this case, an actual personification of
lust--no marrow-frozen penguins, although Chaplin could probably
pass for one. Metaphors in fact comprise a whole class of devices,
keyed on aspects of transference or transformation.
We could also have used "it comes out LIKE Chaplin"
(a simile, or comparison), but there was no reason there for that
extra distance. Sometimes you want a little distance, just a
hinting around, and similes do their work well then. But if you
want do go for the throat-- use metaphors. Just make sure they're
GOOD metaphors. REALLY WORK ON THEM. And don't combine metaphors
and/or similes that are completely different from one another.
You'll pull the reader into a revolving door and throw him or her
back onto the street, Chaplin-style.
You may find you are more comfortable with similes first--
that's fine. Metaphors, like young bulls, (a simile) come of age
with advancing bravery-- just don't be reckless with your use of
them, as recklessness often tries to pass for bravery (metaphor of
personification--concept as person), but comes out merely foolish
(another one). Work your metaphors very carefully, and only keep
the ones that really work. If you start a poem with one type of
metaphor--stick with that type, but also never beat one symbol
relentlessly to death. (Metaphor again!) Once learned-- and the
learning comes with the gradual comfort of using them-- these
devices can be nothing short of miraculous. In sum, good similes
and metaphors will transform your poems so profoundly you almost
won't believe it, but your reader will. This is the blood of
poetry (a metaphor) we're talking about here, something
life-giving like night air (a simile). Use them well, will you--
these mirrors of the world, these artifacts of magic.
