Via Matthew Yglesias, I notice that James Fallows is upset about the use of the "like a frog in a pot of boiling water" metaphor, as applied to Democrats' seeming acquiescence to Hillary Clinton's likely role as the Democratic nominee in 2008. But it's the frog bit that has him rattled, not the application (which he thinks is dead on). It turns out: frogs actually do jump out of the pot as it gets hotter.
Damn.
I share Fallows dislike for metaphors that are either wrong, or, more subtly, at odds with the actual workings of the world (as well as Gregg Easterbrook's recurring dismay at books and films--usually sci-fi--that break their own narrative conventions). So out goes the frog: the world is so full of intricacies and wonder that it doesn't need extra layers of ∃!x or otherwise nonsensical misdirections. Fallows proposes that since the phenomenon is common enough, we just need to replace it with a new metaphor--but one that's scientifically correct.
Replacing the "boiling frog" isn't going to be easy. After all, if the frog doesn't do it--what creature would? Human beings. But... don't we want the metaphor to be something that applies to human situations, but is external to them? My guess is, if we're going to find a metaphor here, we're stuck with humanity & it's just going to have to be one of the most elemental of human actions.
A digression, of sorts: allow me to stump for my favorite kind of metaphor in writing, one which should be in every writer's repertoire (and too often isn't): the indirect or implicit metaphor. A good example of this is in Greene's Brighton Rock:
"Dallow laughed. 'Tell that to Spicer.' They turned the corner by the Royal Albion and the sea was with them again--the tide had turned--a movement, a splashing, a darkness."
This description adds a touch of physicality to Greene's narrative, but coming as it does at the beginning of Pinkie's unraveling, it also serves as a metaphor for what's about to become of Pinkie and his gang. I suppose this is a common enough move ("the skies grew dark...," etc.), but when handled deftly, it can be stunning--and doesn't have the defects of the direct metaphor: pulling you out of the narrative, making you question its aptness, and so on.
OK, so which elemental human activities are going to provide our metaphor? Here're a few ideas... marriage, friendship, drinking, foul odors (esp. stench: you just never know what nasty is until you come out of your first shower after a long weekend in the field--or longer, when you're at war).
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