Bad Metaphors? That Reminds Me to Work on My Poetry
I bought some books to keep me from digging a moat around the house. (Anyone remember that episode of Family Ties?)
On Sunday, I read Adrian Mole: The Capuccino Years. The hero is in his 30s, his son is about to turn 3, and someone dies of pneumonia. Now I don't have to write my autobiography.
Yesterday I began Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections. National Book Award Winner. Bestselling. Oprah's choice (although Franzen was the frood who refused to have Oprah stickers on his books.) It has some of the absolute worst metaphors I have ever read. I must tell you some. They're awful!
"Her open eye was like nearly black balsamic vinegar beading on white china."
"To Chip, the air felt disagreeably intimate, like a warm spot in a swimming pool." (And then there's the issue of his characters' names.)
"But from her underpants -- an affectionate warm rabbit came springing." (God, I hope that's a metaphor.)
"Like a toothbrush in a toilet bowl, like a dead cricket in a salad, like a diaper on the dinner table, this sickening connundrum confronted Enid." (And displeasing also is the syntax of that sentence.)
I'm not much enjoying the book, but I must keep reading to find more of these horrendous nuggets!
Hey, we haven't had an interactive session for a while. Today's task: Find or compose a super-bad metaphor.
In other news, since I am stuck here, I am thinking of submitting the Glencoe poem to the CBC Literary Awards. I'm going to go read the rules now.
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