Getting closer to NaNoWriMo!
We’ve got some more unusual literary devices for your perusal today. We’ve scraped the barrel and hoisted the sales to bring these weirdly named tricks to add some flare and depth to your writing styles. See if you can make use of them in your month of writing – the fun unfolds!
Is it Ana-dip-losis or Ana-di-plosis? I’m going with the latter! This odd sounding technique is actually very simple – when you break a sentence down into clauses, you can choose to end a clause and start the next clause with the same word. It’s a really simple technique and adds weight to the authority of your tone. For example:
“That man speaks in lies, lies carried from the grave!”
Those smart ancient Greeks like to use this method, it pops up everywhere. My favourite example:
“The mountains look on Marathon – And Marathon looks on the sea.”
They’re quite simple to create and can be used in fiction, prose and poetry. This isn’t to be confused with a chiasmus which inverts the meaning between the clauses of a sentence – more on those later!
Bathos uses a dwindling cohesion of metaphors and descriptions to show growing passion of the topic – it’s also used to create silly comedy. I am not a comedian, but here’s the best example I can come up with:
“He urged his friend to stop, to think about the children, to really consider what he was doing – how could he use French mustard on roast beef?”
OK so my example wasn’t great, but used properly bathos can create a strong contrast in the tone of your piece or add a delicate level of wit to something which is actually quite serious.
Chiasmus & Antimetabole
These two are so close together as literary devices that they are often used interchangeably. They’re not entirely the same however. They are used ideally in speeches or perhaps opening lines as rhetoric. When a sentence is repeated by its reversal, to convey an idea or define a point, it is called chiasmus (ki-as-mus). In an antimetabole (anti-me-tab-o-lee) however the words and grammatical structure are also reversed. My example of an antimetabole is one which I have to say a lot during my day job:
“I work to live, not live to work,”
All I’ve done is swap the word work and live around in the second half of the sentence to change the meaning around. For a chiasmus I’ve had to take an example from online, because it’s pretty difficult to distinguish the two types (and some are listed under both literary devices!):
“Never let a fool kiss you or a kiss fool you.”
Thank goodness for examples!
Sounds a bit like a dinosaur type creature, right? Well, Dactyl is an old Greek word for a finger and here’s why we use it to describe this literary device: a dactyl plays on a single word of three syllables, with the verbal accent of the first syllable emphasised over the second and third. The technique is used mostly in poetry (some say overused) to the point where its kind of normalised now. The opposite to this is the anapest, which puts the emphasis on the second two syllables rather than the first.
So, a dactyl in poetry (which is in itself a dactyl, PO-e-try) can consist of a series of dactyls in order to provide a meter for the reader, some say this gives the poem or piece of work a galloping effect -which people then link to The Charge of the Light Brigade, a famous and overused example online:
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward
All in the valley of Death
You could argue that a dactyl can build a rhythm in your written work when the time is right, whether that’s a galloping charge of mounted soldiers or the specific beat of a drum, dactyls can be used as a literary device to help convey strong imagery.
This wraps up today’s unusually named literary devices. We hope you’ve enjoyed learning about some weird but cool and subtle tricks to add life to your fiction. Let us know if you have any success or if you’ve got any questions. Maybe you can improve on our descriptions? We’d love to get you involved!
J.D. Ferris, CC