The Masters Of Metaphor

Unless you're an actual fan of her, I don't think Imogen Heap is really that much of a household name yet. But you've probably heard some of her music, like Let Go, or that song from the Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe soundtrack (Let Go was featured on the Garden State soundtrack, and Boys Like Girls did a cover of it, if you're into them).

I thought I would do a post of her, because she's basically the epitome of what I can't be. As dramatic as that seems, it's completely and utterly true. Actually, let's play a little game. What do...a songwriter, poet, and a hopeless romantic all have in common? No?

It's pretty simple. All those people have mastered the literary device that is the metaphor. Ah, the metaphor. That thing that saves you when you want to say something, but don't really want to say it outright. I would give you an example, but that would defeat the purpose of this post. In other words, I am not a master of metaphor (I wish I were, that title sort of has a ring to it).
But Imogen Heap is. Oh yes, she is. I don't know if it is a new song, but recently, I've become obsessed with a song of hers, Earth:


"You're not golden and I'm getting tired
Act like you own the place when really you've only just arrived
I caught first glimmers in hides and skins
Look who's all grown up, black swanning about the solar winds..."

Besides the lyrics, the song has an insanely catchy beat, and of course, Heap's signature use of voice technology to create that acapella style. I love it. But if you ever asked me to reproduce something like this, it would be completely futile. It took me several tries to figure out the actual meaning of this song. The current accepted meaning is that it is a "green song" - a song about how we are destroying the earth, just because we think it is ours, whereas the earth has existed far longer than humanity has. You see, Heap is playing the part of "mother" earth, scolding her child (humanity) for creating such a mess of this place. It makes sense, when you see the title, which is appropriately named Earth. But this meaning is far from being the only one. Some say that it's called Earth, because her voice is the only instrument being used, giving light to the "organic" feel of the song. I used to think it was about being in a one-sided relationship, with someone who wasn't giving it his/her all. I don't really blame myself for that explanation, given that 98% of the songs today are about relationships, love, etc.

But you see what has happened?!? Imogen Heap has mastered the use of the metaphor so well, that people like us are able to create millions upon millions of explanations about the true meaning of the song. While I am highly impressed by this, part of me is a little annoyed. Not in a jealous way, but more like "Why would you do that?" annoyed.

Maybe I've just always been a blunt person, but if I were feeling something, whether it be sadness, happiness, frustration, depression, etc., writing it down in metaphor would not help me at all. Some people might say that the point of the metaphor is to convey your emotions, while still keeping them to yourself, but that is so counterproductive.

If people don't understand the exact meaning of what I'm trying to say, I feel like I've failed at communicating. Is it because I'm always trying to prove that I have something intelligent to say? I don't know. Maybe songwriters and poets are so confident with themselves, that, as long as they know what it means, nothing else matters. This is why I could never be a poet, or a songwriter, as hard as I have tried in the past. I'm not saying that metaphors aren't beautiful. In fact, one of my favorite choral arrangements by Eric Whitacre, titled Sleep, is anything but failure and yet, one big metaphor.


"What dreams may come both dark and deep
Of flying wings and soaring leap
As I surrender unto sleep
As I surrender unto sleep..."

In my favorite analysis of this song, Whitacre is describing death, and one's thoughts before dying. That topic itself is for another day, but when I realized this, the metaphors spoke to me even louder. It made me stop and appreciate the flexibility of the English language, and how something so depressing can be made to sound beautiful. Of course, part of Eric Whitacre's charm is his amazing use of suspension chords, and his unconventional chord progressions. Oh, look at me, geeking out on choral music.

But am I jealous? Not at all. Never would I want to write something that people couldn't immediately understand. That's probably why I'm studying to be a journalist and not a poet. So here I stand, in the sidelines, cheering on those who are the masters of metaphor. That's it. No strings attached. Let them do what they do best, while I continue to shout my feelings from the mountaintops, till the cows come home.