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Metaphor: an exploration of the metaphorical dimensions and potential of architecture

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Simon Unwin

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“She was foolish to be walking alone at this ungodly hour when demi-gods like himself roamed in search of prey. He would pick this flower, uproot her from the soil. He would part her from her source of life. Her head, hands, and feet were the soft petals, her blood the sweet nectar. She walked by him, ignorant of the brutality that would soon befall her.”

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Book:Vampires of Twilight Castle
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“...when a person, instead of adopting metaphors that come naturally and opportunely in his way, rummages the whole world in quest of them, and piles them one upon another; when he cannot so properly be said to use metaphor as to talk in metaphor, or rather when from metaphor he runs into allegory, and thence into enigma, his words are not the immediate signs of his thought; they are at best but the signs of the signs of his thought.”

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Book:The Philosophy of Rhetoric
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“The ‘death’ of a metaphor is the loss of a connection between a metaphor and a specific word, not the loss of the conceptual metaphor itself. ‘Dead’ metaphors are words and phrases that were previously metaphoric, not conceptual metaphors that have disappeared. Conceptual metaphors generally ‘outlive’ the specific words and expressions that involve them.”

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Book:Mixed Metaphors: Their Use and Abuse
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“US Highway 1. A gray snake of concrete writhed past her. The Oceanrest exit let off onto an artery road, two lanes on either side of a double yellow line, a dying pulse bloodletting into the sea. Before the iron lung economy, there’d been a trailer park by the highway, and an ice cream shop, and a very large church. Their razed bodies curled in shallow graves, their bones hidden in underbrush. A monster licked the skulls empty, scavenged the flesh.”

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Book:The War Beneath
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“She pushed herself through the opening, around an ornament that was simultaneously a hanging light bulb and a uvula, and stepped inside. She entered the Mouth, the Throne Room, the Jaws of the Devouring God, or maybe just another in a series of countless double-wides gutted and lashed together with scavenged steel and magic, the bare skeleton of an illusory power. Tongue. The Devourer. God, the Devil, or nobody at all.”

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Book:The War Beneath
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