Figures of Speech Served Fresh

Figaro,

In chapter 12 in your book "Thank you for arguing", you start the chapter by talking about the overall strategy of "Stance". Given an argument you should choose in descending order one of the following to hold your rhethorical ground:
a. Facts (strongest)
b. Definitions
c. Quality
d. Relevance (weakest)

In your example of the case of the smuggled candy bar, I am not exactly clear on how redefining the issue of "hiding" the candy bar from a brother is different from arguing that "not having time to eat lunch". Aren't both just attempts of redefining why the child broke the rule of no candy bar in the room?

Would you provide another example that will illustrate the difference between the stance of Definition vs. Quality?

Al

Dear Al,

The difference between Definition and Quality is one of terminology (Definition) versus extenuating circumstances (Quality).

With Definition, you’re trying to change the terms to describe the crime. Yes, I’m responsible for the missing candy, but I didn’t steal it. I hid it from thieves. Quality, on the other hand, determines the degree of outrage. Yes, I did steal the candy, but I was fainting from hunger.

Suppose I took you to small claims court for destroying my mailbox. You admit to the Facts—you backed into my mailbox with your car. So you fall back on Redefining the issue. You say the mailbox wasn’t destroyed, exactly, just dinged up a little.

But after seeing a picture of the ruined mailbox, the judge agrees that “destroyed” is the right word. “You totally totaled it, Dude,” says the judge. (He’s very young.)

So you go for Quality—for extenuating circumstances. “The mailbox was hidden by the tall weeds the defendant has allowed to grow in his unkempt lawn,” you say, producing pictures of your own.

See the difference? In Definition, we’re talking about whether “destroyed” is the right verb to define what happened to my mailbox. In Quality, the argument isn’t over the degree of destruction but whether extenuating circumstances should get you off the hook, or at least with a reduced claim.

But, too bad for you, the judge says you should have been more careful, weeds or no weeds. So in desperation you fall back to the final trench, Relevance. “Your Honor, you have no jurisdiction in this case. A mailbox is federal property.”

Fig.

Dear Figaro,

Exchange between two Russian spies at a Brooklyn street corner :

“Excuse me, did we meet in Bangkok in April last year?”
Reply : “I don’t know about April, but I was in Thailand in May of that year.”
FBI: The ‘Illegals’ program

Figaro, is this a figure?

Arie Vrolijk

Dear Arie,

Assuming that Boris and Natasha were speaking in code, their words constitute the TROPE of IRONY. A trope is any non-literal language--words such as metaphor that aren't literally true but aren't lies, either. The trope of irony conveys two meanings--the literal one and a hidden one. It can serve as a code language to make us feel like insiders. Or as genuine code for Russian spies.

The fact that some of the spies lived in the Jersey suburbs probably makes for another irony. But Figaro isn't privy to its meaning.

Fig.

Dear Figaro,
What is the figure of speech of " I can count all my bones' in Psalm 22?
Sue

Dear Sue,

The figure is the LAMENT (lamentatio), an appeal to pity. The classical lament contains four parts: complaint, plea for help, expression of faith, and praise (or promise of praise) to God. (Google "Lamentations of the Father" by Ian Frasier for a hilarious modern version of the figure.)

This particular lament has special meaning for Christians, because it foreshadows the crucifixion of Jesus. The lamenter has been starved, stripped of his clothing and stabbed; he's apparently stretched out, as if on a cross.

As with much of the Bible, the translations come up with strikingly different versions of this line: "I may tell all my bones" (King James), "I may number all my bones" (Douay-Rheims). But they all have essentially the same meaning: the speaker can look down and see the bones jutting from his skin. Is this itself a figure? In a way, you could say it's a form of SYNECDOCHE, a trope that makes a part of something represent the whole. But Figaro prefers to think of the passage as the kind of detail-focused storytelling he loves best.

Fig.

Dear Figaro.

Not NASA, but BP needs your help.
BP Chief Executive Tony Hayward: "We will absolutely be paying for the cleanup operation. There is no doubt about that. It’s our responsibility — we accept it fully. BP will honour all legitimate claims for business interruption."
Pressed for examples of illegitimate claims, he said:
"I could give you lots of examples. This is America — come on. We’re going to have lots of illegitimate claims. We all know that."

What is Mr Hayward doing?
Yours,
Arie Vrolijk

Dear Arie,

NASA is more fun to work with than I imagine BP would be, though I wouldn't turn the job down.

If I HAD been Mr. Hayward's rhetorician, I would have encouraged him to use that very phrase to "honor all legitimate claims." But rhetoric prepares us also for the inevitable follow-up questions: (1) Define "legitimate." (2) Give an example of an "illegitimate" claim.

A truthful answer to No. 1 would be, "Anything my lawyers say is legitimate." But a proper rhetorical answer would be, "You know as well as I that there are sharks out there, legal sharks, who rush in at the smell of blood. We'll honor all legitimate claims."

As for the question Hayward so clumsily answered, I would have supplied a response in advance that would avoid insulting America:

"Someone in Brooklyn claiming mental anguish because they can't decide where to book their honeymoon. We would probably deny that claim but urge them to come on down. Most of the beaches here are beautiful. And we'll work like heck to clean up the rest."

Dear Figaro,

Aside from being appallingly classist and culturally inept, is BP's chairman remark on how much BP loves the "small people" of the gulf coast a figure of speech?

Thanks,

Kaine

Dear Kaine,

Chairman Carl-Henric Svanberg, a Swede, clearly meant "the little guy" when he said "the small people." The mistake is a soraismus (so-ray-IS-mus), a clumsy mix of languages. That's Greek for "loading up."

The incident reminds us of the time many years ago when famous Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci interviewed Henry Kissinger for an Italian magazine. Kissinger described himself to the seductive reporter as a lone cowboy "leading the caravan" and entering the "village" alone. The American press gave him a lot of well-deserved grief for that interview. But he probably actually said "wagon train" to Fallaci (carrozza in Italian) as well as "town" (villago).

Svanberg's gaffe simply eliminated the incompetent translator middle man.

It is unfair to attack Svanberg for his gaffe? Figaro says no. The quote stands for BP's reckless arrogance. And a corporate chairman should be sophisticated enough to earn his not-so-small salary. We say, ridicule away.

Fig.

Figaro-
Is name dropping and association as a means to boost one's ethos a sound practice? I'm guessing it would fit in with virtue (one of Aristotle's three essential qualities of a persuasive ethos as described in your book). If so, do you recommend any specific tactics and situations in which to apply it? Scenarios in which to avoid it?
Thanks
John

Dear John,

Aristotle would say yes, but. There are several ways to bring "witnesses," as the A-man called them, to your rhetoric.

1) Name-drop. Definitely the crudest method. When you name-drop, try to quote the person talking about you. ("Well, I can't speak to that, but Susan says I'm a great lover.") Book publicists call this "blurbing."

2) Bring the name-dropped person with you. Bar-hoppers call this "having a wing man."

3) Quote an authority and say you're trying to follow the person's example. Sages call this "the voice of God."

Fig.

Dear Jay,

The book was interesting and helpful. Perhaps you would reconsider about what religion Aristole would be if he lived today. (p. 177) I also recently read Jennifer Michael Hecht's "Doubt: A History" and I don't think Aristotle would be Presbyterian or Episcopalian. He was far too smart to buy Christian math (3 = 1). I think with today's science he'd be an atheist and not think it at all extreme.

Ruth

Dear Ruth,

The passage in "Thank You for Arguing" speculates (facetiously) that Aristotle, a man who hated extremes, would be an Episcopalian or a Presbyterian today. Whether a modern Aristotle would be an atheist depends on whether all religion is tribal, rooted in the human desire to belong to a group. For what it's worth some of the atheists I know are extremely tribal. They seem to have great faith in their non-belief.

Aristotle was the ultimate cosmopolitan, a citizen of the world. He wouldn't belong to a tribe for the sake of belonging. That's one sure thing we can say about his "religion." Other than that, I suppose we're silly to speculate.

Jay

Dear Figaro,

In an interview with the Guardian at BP's crisis centre in Houston, Tony Hayward CEO of BP insisted that the leaked oil and the estimated 400,000 gallons of dispersant that BP has pumped into the sea to try to tackle the slick should be put in context:
"The Gulf of Mexico is a very big ocean. The amount of volume of oil and dispersant we are putting into it is tiny in relation to the total water volume,"
Tony Hayward.
The Guardian, Friday 14 May 2010

What kind of figure is this?

Yours, Arie Vrolijk

Dear Arie,

The hapless Mr. Hayward is making a clumsy attempt at FRAMING THE ISSUE, one key element of which is to broaden it. Set the issue in context; big ocean, itty-bitty spill. His PR people should have told him that those words would get played over and over against video showing oil-slicked pelicans and out-of-work fishermen. A word to the corporate wise: remember the visuals.

Fig.

Figaro,

Is it even possible to say something interesting without using some kind of figure?

What would communication be like that is devoid of figures? Really, aren't we constantly using figures it is just that better communicators are just better in applying them?

Al

Dear Al,

Your pants are on fire. Now, if your pants really were on fire, That would be a figure-free sentence, and you would likely find it quite interesting. But for the most part, you're right. Any craftsmanship having to do with words counts as figurative; and any clever effort to disguise the craftsmanship also counts as figurative.

And what do we mean by craftsmanship?

- Unusual words
- Usual words in an unusual order
- Non-literal use of language, including irony, metaphor, and those mouthbusters, metonymy and synecdoche.

Assuming your pants aren't on fire, then you're wearing a trope.

Fig.

Dear Figaro,

US comedian Jon Stewart of the The Daily Show (28-4-10) criticised Apple after Gizmodo editor Jason Chen had his home raided by police after publishing details of the prototype iPhone 4G. Stewart seemed concerned that Apple, had become something of a ‘Big Brother’. He found a new way to describe Apple Managers... Appholes!

Please Figaro, give your analysis of this new word.

Yours,

Arie Vrolijk

Dear Arie,

Stewart is coining a PORTMANTEAU, a kind of NEOLOGISM that combines two words to make a new one. while Figaro is a big fan of the portmanteau, I'm not too fond of "appholes." It's a cheap trick, little better than a pun, and it misses Stewart's main point: the overblown government reaction.

Stewart dislikes what he sees as a pattern of enforcement agencies serving individual corporations, as when the Coast Guard threatened to arrest reporters on orders of BP. In that context, "Appholes" is just name-calling.

So, to make his larger point, a better portmanteau might be "the iMan."

Fig.

DEAR AL AND ARIE,

The question is what kind of rhetoric lies behind a member of Congress who cheats on his wife and then quits to save his family from...the shame? No, the media! It is indeed a metastasis--a word that literally means "changing stance."

But there's a form of metastasis that we're seeing increasingly in politics, in which the speaker attacks on the basis of his own weakness. The Swift Boaters attacked Kerry for being a Vietnam shirker, providing cover for George W. Bush's, um, non-Vietnam service. The ploy seems awfully transparent, especially when delivered by a cheating husband--how dare you hurt my family, Media People?--but it seems to work.

Why? Because tactics like that appeal to our increasingly tribal culture. If you're a member of the congressman's party, you see the media as a common enemy. If you're an opponent, you're not going to listen to him anyway. And if you're under him, you're probably not his wife.

Fig.

Dear Figaro,

Arie,

I am guessing the metastasis (met-AH-stah-sis)
"Skipping over an awkward matter". He focuses in the poisionous environment versus what he actually did.

Figaro...close?

Al

Dear Figaro,

Indiana Rep. Mark Souder resigned after the news of his affair with a female aid.
He issued the following statement:
"In the poisonous environment of Washington, D.C., any personal failing is seized upon, often twisted, for political gain, I am resigning rather than put my family through that painful, drawn-out process."
The Washington Post, Wednesday, May 19, 2010
What kind of ploy did he use?

Yours,
Arie Vrolijk

Figaro,

I hope in your new book, you provide advice on how to always be rhetorically prepare to respond. As one belonging to the pocket protector department, I find that 9 times out of ten I have dialectic discussions regarding technical issues, but 1 time out of ten a flashy tie from marketing walks in and catches me off guard with fallacious arguments. I've been rethorically ambushed. Help!

Show me the path, the drills and exercises, I need to become a paladin of persuasion!

Al

Dear Al,

Steal that tie! It probably has a silk-kryptonite weave that hypnotizes the observer.

If that fails, fall back on Aristotelean rhetoric. Here's the secret: don't worry so much about your argument. In an office setting, it pays more to focus on your long-term reputation. I spend a lot of time advising technical types (one of my rhetorical clients is NASA), and find that engineers and rocket scientists wonder why everybody isn't as logical as they are. Alas, in our rhetorical world, trust trumps logic. Aristotle himself said so. If your colleagues like and trust you, they're more likely to go along with what you want.

Instead of focusing on dialectic, concentrate on the three qualities of a strong ethos:

(a) Practical wisdom. Make your mates believe that you're the kind of guy who can get the job done. You know what to do do and when to do it.

(b) Disinterest. You're a team player who looks out for the best interest of other people, even to your own detriment at times.

(c) Virtue. Your values are the company's values. You're one of the gang.

So forget the drills for now (at least until my next book, Word Hero, comes out!). Polish that Ethos.

Fig.

Dear Figaro,
What kind of figure of speech(metaphor; hyperbole; symbol; imagery) is this? " God keep us, but already my bones feel damp within me, and from the inside wet my flesh." - from Moby Dick by Herman Melville.
Thanks a million,
Rose

DEAR FIGARO,

How does a 46 year old learn to use the skills of figures/rhetoric . I've read your book several times over the years and have only made modest gains in using the concepts in my day-to-day conversation.

I can see the possibility of using figures in a systematic way so as to always be in reasonably good rhetorical position in any interaction. I just need a method of practice and application.

Do you have a method to learn and apply these techniques?

AL

DEAR AL,

It's never too early for a youngster like you to learn figures for use in daily life. In fact, I just happen to be working on a book that serves that very purpose. Called Word Hero, it reinterprets the figures of old and applies them to real-world situations.

The book won't be coming out for a while; but then, you have plenty of time. Ah, to be 46 again.

Fig.

Subject: Figure of laughter?

Dear Figaro,

First off I'd like to say that I love your site. It provides me with some great reading, at least weekly. My question is this: what is the funniest figure you know of? I figure Figaro might figure out a good answer for this one.

Martin

Dear Martin,

The Paraprosdokian, or surprise ending. Even its pronunciation (Para-prose-DOKE-ian)can provide cheap yuks: "Check out the paraprosdokians on that figure." But it's the surprise-ending part that makes it a favorite among comedians. The figure starts with ordinary language or a cliché, and then smacks the audience upside the head with a different ending.

“She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and forgot to say when.” (P.G. Wodehouse)
“It was a book to kill time for those who like it better dead.” (Rose Macaulay)
“To commit suicide in Buffalo would be redundant.” (Harold Arlen)
“I belong to no organized party. I am a Democrat.” (Will Rogers)
“One must have a heart of stone to read the death of little Nell without laughing.” (Oscar Wilde)

Though people avoid clichés like the plague, they’re a great resource — they make the rhetorical world go round — but only if you transform them with your instant wit. Give your next cliché a paraprosdokian twist, and the world will be your oyster; assuming your idea of Eden is a slimy bivalve.
Fig.

Dear Fig,

What is the difference in meaning between "eating at table" and "eating at the table"?

Thanks.

Mary

Dear Mary,

The boring ol' article "the" leads an exciting life. Imagine if you got rid of the "at" in front of it: you'd be witness to an act of xylophagy, the practice of eating wood. Putting "the" in front of a word specifies the object. You're not just talking about any table here. We're talking about THE table.

Eating "at table," on the other hand, implies a style of eating (as opposed to the good American way of eating standing up, in a car, or in front of the TV). Perhaps because the practice is so un-American, the expression "at table" has a snobbish, Anglophile feel to it. Which is why one does not eat "at table" at McDonald's.

Fig.

Dear Figaro,
I always wondered what classification would apply to snide remarks such as "Nice speech, short but pointless" or "this isn't a lot of food but it tastes awful".
Kaine

Dear Kaine,

You're coming close to one of Figaro's faves, the APOPHASIS, which emphasizes a point by denying it. It's a figure of irony, so you want to take all the honesty out of your expressions:

Nice speech! Short and pointless!
Sure, the portions are small, but the food is satisfyingly awful.

Fig.

Dear Figaro,

Sarah Palin puzzles me with the following sentence:

"The Obama-Pelosi-Reid spending spree is over,”
Tea Party rally Saturday in Searchlight, Nev.March 27, 2010.

Could you please comment on this strange fusion of words?

Arie Vrolijk

Dear Arie,

Ms. Palin is applying a typical guilt-by-association device, linking the three leaders of the Democratic party to "spending." Methinks she's being a tad premature.

Fig.

Figaro,

In you segment about the seven deadly logical sins you use an example when dying without a will is intestate. I am confused how this can be considered a tautology when the meaning of intestate includes a greater definition of dying without a will. In consequence it means that the state will determine what to do with your estate. Furthermore, each state may have different rules on how that determination is made. Is this not a case of a poorly worded warning rather than a tautology?

Please advise so that I might iron out this wrinkle in my thinking.

Shawn

Dear Shawn,

You're referring to page 147 of Thank You for Arguing. (And thank YOU for setting me up for that plug.) I was referring to the Alan King joke where his lawyer says to him, "If you die without a will, you'll die intestate!"

"Intestate" literally means "without a will." What it means lawyerly is something else altogether.

Fig.