Literary Devices Refresher: Metaphor - the comparison of two unlike things to suggest things which they have in common - for example:joe is a lion on the playing field would compare Joe to a lion in how he moves, his aggression, his animal-like actions, his skill and strength, his leadership. When you identify a metaphor, you have to dig deeply to find all of the layers of possible meaning. Simile - a comparison of two unlike things using like or as - for example: Sue flits through life like a moth in a room of candles compares Sue to a delicate, fluttering moth which is drawn to fire and raises an image of both delight and confusion, perhaps also mindlessness and upcoming death or failure. Like a metaphor, a simile can seem obvious, but it is usually telling you something about a character or setting if you are willing to dig a little deeper. Personification - the description of an inanimate (non-living) object as if it were a human being or an animal - for example: The kite tugged and pulled at the string, longing for the freedom of the skies gives thekite human actions and a motive for them. In using personification the author asks the reader to identify with the object or character viewing it more deeply than would be possible in a simple description. Extended metaphor - a paragraph or longer of description which builds upon an initial metaphor, often bringing several of the senses (sight, sound, touch, hearing, taste) into play. This is often used by an author seeking to make a point in a setting description or seeking to create a character for the narrator or narrative focus (e.g.: imaginative, naive, fanciful, terrified) Hyperbole - an obvious and unrealistic exaggeration - for example: His gaping jaw could hold a flock of the King's fattest sheep indicates excess and perhaps a fearful or highly imaginative narrative focus. A good way to identify hyperbole is to ask yourself the old tall-tale question: Just how [tall, wide, hungry, lazy, angry...] was he/she/it? Imagery language that appeals to one of the five senses Onomatopoeia - use of a word which sounds like it means - for example: plunk, zip, buzz, bong, zap all have meaning which is reinforced by the sound of the word. Repetition of onomatopoeic words is used by authors to create a mood or tone and to convey sense impressions (e.g. motion, touch, sound) Pun - a word which has several meanings, all of which apply; puns are often based on sound, so homophones and homonyms have to be though of as well - for example: In Induction I of Taming of the Shrew the bum Sly states "I smell" when testing to see if he is awake; he can smell, but he also does smell. Puns are generally a source of humor, but they can also be cruel or unkind. Lewis Carroll is very fond of puns and uses them to good effect in Alice. Oxymoron - a phrase which contains opposite elements or words with opposite meanings, yet which expresses one idea when taken as a whole - for example: Bottom says in Midsummer Night's Dream,"I'll speak in a monstrous little voice." Alone Together Silent Scream Living Dead Taped Live Plastic Glasses
Pretty Ugly Working Vacation Virtual Reality Bitter Sweet Work Party Jumbo Shrimp Irony - There are 3 types of irony which you need to know: Situational Irony - when the reverse of the expected happens or when the person you least expect to do something, does it - for example: It is ironic that Cinderella gets the prince? Dramatic irony - when the viewer or the reader is aware of a situation of which the character(s) are not aware - for example: In Romeo and Juliet the reader knows that Juliet is not really dead, but Romeo does not know this. Irony of language - when a name or description refers to or suggests the opposite of truth - for example: In Dragonwings the leader of a fierce brotherhood/gang is called Water Fairy. The irony is not just that the name is inappropriate, but that it was earned in an inappropriate way. Irony of language is often used for humor, but it can also be cruel or sarcastic. The name of the character Lefty, in Dragonwings, is as ironic as his situation. Alliteration - The repetition of sound within a line of poetry (or prose). We will watch for two types of alliteration: assonance - the repetition of vowel sounds (a, e, i, o, u, ou, ea, etc.) - "I wore a fleecy green jacket easy and tall." consonance - is the repetition of consonant sounds at the beginning of words within a line of poetry - "Slanting silver slits of rain." Now, read the following poems. For each poem, answer the following. a. Annotate the poem for literary devices (personification, metaphor, simile, irony_ b. What s the main idea? c. What s the author s tone? d. Does it change? (beginning to end) e. What devices contribute the most to the poems main idea?
The Author to Her Book by Anne Bradstreet Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth didst by my side remain, Till snatched from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad, exposed to public view, Made thee in rags, halting to th' press to trudge, Where errors were not lessened (all may judge). At thy return my blushing was not small, My rambling brat (in print) should mother call, I cast thee by as one unfit for light, The visage was so irksome in my sight; Yet being mine own, at length affection would Thy blemishes amend, if so I could. I washed thy face, but more defects I saw, And rubbing off a spot still made a flaw. I stretched thy joints to make thee even feet, Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet; In better dress to trim thee was my mind, But nought save homespun cloth i' th' house I find. In this array 'mongst vulgars may'st thou roam. In critic's hands beware thou dost not come, And take thy way where yet thou art not known; If for thy father asked, say thou hadst none; And for thy mother, she alas is poor, Which caused her thus to send thee out of door. Forgetfulness by Billy Collins The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little fishing village where there are no phones. Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag, and even now as you memorize the order of the planets, something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps, the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay. Whatever it is you are struggling to remember it is not poised on the tip of your tongue, not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.
It has floated away down a dark mythological river whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall, well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war. No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. "Out, Out " by Robert Frost The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood, Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it. And from there those that lifted eyes could count Five mountain ranges one behind the other Under the sunset far into Vermont. And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled, As it ran light, or had to bear a load. And nothing happened: day was all but done. Call it a day, I wish they might have said To please the boy by giving him the half hour That a boy counts so much when saved from work. His sister stood beside them in her apron To tell them "Supper." At the word, the saw, As if to prove saws knew what supper meant, Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap He must have given the hand. However it was, Neither refused the meeting. But the hand! The boy's first outcry was a rueful laugh, As he swung toward them holding up the hand Half in appeal, but half as if to keep The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all Since he was old enough to know, big boy Doing a man's work, though a child at heart He saw all spoiled. "Don't let him cut my hand off The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!" So. But the hand was gone already. The doctor put him in the dark of ether. He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath. And then the watcher at his pulse took fright. No one believed. They listened at his heart. Little less nothing! and that ended it. No more to build on there. And they, since they Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
Icarus Only the feathers floating around the hat Showed that anything more spectacular had occurred Than the usual drowning. The police preferred to ignore The confusing aspects of the case, And the witnesses ran off to a gang war. So the report filed and forgotten in the archives read simply Drowned, but it was wrong: Icarus Had swum away, coming at last to the city Where he rented a house and tended the garden. That nice Mr. Hicks the neighbors called, Never dreaming that the gray, respectable suit Concealed arms that had controlled huge wings Nor that those sad, defeated eyes had once Compelled the sun. And had he told them They would have answered with a shocked, uncomprehending stare. No, he could not disturb their neat front yards; Yet all his books insisted that this was a horrible mistake: What was he doing aging in a suburb? Can the genius of the hero fall To the middling stature of the merely talented? And nightly Icarus probes his wound And daily in his workshop, curtains carefully drawn, Constructs small wings and tries to fly To the lighting fixture on the ceiling: Fails every time and hates himself for trying. He had thought himself a hero, had acted heroically, And dreamt of his fall, the tragic fall of the hero; But now rides commuter trains, Serves on various committees, And wishes he had drowned. * Daedalus and his son, Icarus, fashioned wings of feathers and wax in an attempt to escape from prison by flying across the sea. Before their flight, Daedalus warned his son not to fly too close to the sun. But, caught up in the experience of flying, Icarus ignored the warning and soared upward. The heat of the sun melted the wax, the wings fell off, and he plunged to his death in the sea.