The Shape, Size, and Place of Metaphor

          The last portion of Metaphors helped many of Lakoff and Johnson’s ideas come full-circle, but not without a struggle.  I noticed the authors seem to have a tendency to finish explaining earlier concepts during the introduction of their next set.  I get a grip on one thing they’re saying and then they throw in another.  Metaphors was a fast-paced book, nevertheless a thought-provoking read.

            Lakoff and Johnson’s comparison between metaphorical and nonmetaphorical projection was delicate and took me a few reads to fully grasp.  The text reads, “[t]he only difference is that metaphorical projection involves understanding one kind of thing in terms of another kind of thing.  That is, metaphorical projection involves two different kinds of things, while nonmetaphorical projection involves only one kind” (171).  Understanding is had in any number of ways, but it is really up to our slew of experiences to have something to compare that which we are trying to understand to.  Considering we are nearing the end of the semester (and college for some of us), I started to think about dead week in terms of these projections—partly because it is really finals week for the majority of English majors.  If I’m correct, dead week would have to be an example of metaphorical projection because the busy lifelessness of perhaps the most stressful week of the semester is being compared to a zombie-like state of still moving forward, not quite dead.  One thing is known in terms of another, whereas finals got harder only compares previous tests or papers to the current ones.  I like this disparity, but it gets me thinking about different categories, where the lines are drawn, and who is holding the marker.  These projections are all pretty vague, and though I’m not sure I completely understand them, it makes sense in consideration of the levels of metaphor.

            The conversation regarding objectivity and subjectivity brought back painful memories of secondary school where the assignment was to write about the same topic through each mindset.  The assignments went on forever and their differences are engrained into my mind (which was probably the point).  Never, however, did we delve so far into their meaning as Lakoff and Johnson do in the last portion of their book.  The text reads, “[t]hey coexist, but in separate domains.  Each of us has a realm in his life where it is appropriate to be objective and a realm where it is appropriate to be subjective” (189).  It’s true both objectivity and subjectivity would be better employed in many of each their own certain circumstances, but it’s implausible to think they can be so easily separated—a reason why I dreaded those early assignments.  Take the previous quote for example.  The authors’ use of the masculine his to describe people in general may be used for a number of reasons.  It could be because they are both male authors, because they are chauvinistic, because this is a traditional form of usage and writing, because it just flows better, and others.  I doubt they believe men are superior to women, but one’s subjective thought process may lead some to believe that.  Objectively, it’s just one way to write.  The point being, reading that sentence, one’s interpretation can be both objective and subjective without even thinking about it.  The authors are right to imply they coexist, and those who think they can be separated need to get a clue.  The text reads, “[t]ruth is always relative to understanding, which is based on a nonuniversal conceptual system. […] The objectivist emphasis on achieving a universally valid point of view misses what is important, insightful, and coherent for the individual” (226-7).  It’s a matter of checks and balances and both subjectivity and objectivity are required to form an accurate thought, idea, or opinion.

          In this lengthy discussion of metaphor and what it means for our daily lives, Lakoff and Johnson conclude, “[…] metaphor is not merely a matter of language.  It is a matter of conceptual structure.  And conceptual structure is not merely a matter of the intellect—it involves all the natural dimensions of our experience, including aspects of our sense experiences:  color, shape, texture, sound, etc.  These dimensions structure not only mundane experience but aesthetic experience as well” (235).  I was glad Lakoff and Johnson kept the idea throughout the book that language was but only a carrier of metaphor, a way to communicate between one another, but not the primary means behind metaphor.  Experiences truly shape us and what better than a metaphor to account for that shaping?

            

Experience is Understanding

          The more I read of Metaphors, the deeper and more confusing my understanding becomes.  It’s not as though Lakoff and Johnson are incoherent with their theories—because they are explained quite well and in full detail—there is just so much information to process.  To continue with the metaphor that language is mathematical, the authors have given us diagrams and sectionalized lists to (attempt to) explain how language works and how metaphors are the basis of verbal and written communication.

            I thought it was interesting how Lakoff and Johnson broke down everyday conversation into six concrete dimensions.  Because a common back-and-forth with a friend, colleague, etc. comes so naturally, I never really thought of this kind of communication in these categorical terms.  I was glad the authors included the example of an argument to show how the six dimensions can be altered in different circumstances (78-80).  I couldn’t quite get on board with the idea conversation is an absolute six-step process.  People talk to one another differently depending upon their relationship and whether or not they share previous experiences.  I feel like the authors’ outline of the typical conversation is only used in times of small talk with people you don’t really know, but recognize because they have inserted themselves into your routine.  Working in the service industry for the past decade plus, you get to know your regulars as it were and employ this sort of conversation.  As you get to know them, the conversation evolves and changes its structure.  I liked the six-steps as a jumping off point, but not much more than that.  We will not be confined! (Melodramatic).

            Lakoff and Johnson talk about the difference between coherence and consistency in chapter sixteen, noting that they are indeed their own entities, but work with one another at once.  The text reads, “[t]he reason we need two metaphors is because there is no one metaphor that will do the job—there is no one metaphor that will allow us to get a handle simultaneously on both the direction of the argument and the content of the argument” (95).  When I read this, I thought about those bubble diagrams that separate some topics, but unite others in the middle where the bubbles overlap.  What would one bubble be without the other?  The same goes for metaphors.  “Bit the hand that fed him” would make no sense if the reasoning behind the biting were excluded from the understanding of the sentence.  It would just be an overly carnivorous man chomping at the bit for more food.  Lakoff and Johnson speak on intersecting metaphors throughout their book, but this is where I really started to understand at least the basic concept.

            Lakoff and Johnson say, “[w]e are concerned primarily with how people understand their experiences.  We view language as providing data that can lead to general principles of understanding.  The general principles involve whole systems of concepts rather than individual words or individual concepts” (116).  If I’m not mistaken, the authors write this based on an idea that our dictionary makers think differently than we do.  I cannot agree with this.  Sure, in preparation of a dictionary, the writers have to consider words for what they alone stand for, but dictionary makers are people living in our contextually-rich culture and are only doing (the somewhat difficult) job of giving the rest of us the building blocks we need to communicate through our experiences—metaphors being reflections of these, built upon words and their primary definitions.  When you really think about it, the dictionary makers’ definitions were probably not formed without context—at no fault of their own.  We cannot escape context, our language’s most fundamental parts equally affected.

          Culture seems to be one of Lakoff and Johnson’s most recurring themes, as it should be.  Even their authorship of this book is through a certain cultural lens.  The text reads, “[w]hat is real for an individual as a member of a culture is a product both of his social reality and of the way in which that shapes his experience of the physical world” (146).  Understanding is truly based on our experience—not only our communicative abilities with one another or reaction to the physical world, but both combined.  My understanding, my perception of reality is completely different than anyone else’s in even just this class.  Put an ocean between myself and someone else, it may be difficult to find any commonalities in which to relate (other than the living and breathing aspect).  Culturally speaking, we live by certain metaphors depending on our physical location, station in life, age, gender, etc., but our divergence is overcome by the idea we all compare and relate in an effort to understand one another, to understand ourselves.