THE MAGIC ART

Say Something Simple Then Add an Unexpected Inversion

Writing with eloquence doesn’t get any better than this

Photo by saeed karimi on Unsplash

“Those who can do, those who can’t teach.”

— George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman.

If you really want to bug your teacher, feed him that line. It’s been the bane of many an educator since Shaw first penned it in 1903.

It is a simple observation that suddenly becomes oh-so-clever with the addition of a contrasting phrase.

In a literary sense, an unexpected inversion refers to a reversal of value, expectation, or meaning. Amazing what a little twist or a change in perspective can do to challenge conventional thought.

Here is my observation —

“An elephant is easy to see: once you open your eyes.”

— Malky McEwan, Writing With Eloquence.

I began with something off the top of my head, everything is easy to see, then I experimented with it for a few minutes and came up with my unexpected but obvious inversion, once you open your eyes.

I then monkeyed around with the words, changed everything to elephant, and finished up with a slice of wisdom that wouldn’t seem out of place if you read it in Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist.

Neither clause is innovative, but together it sounds as if there is a deeper meaning.

I’ve turned the simple and obvious into something clever that I can use when my friends tell me they just understood something for the first time.

“Hey Malky, I didn’t know you’d written 14 books.”

“An elephant is easy to see: once you open your eyes.”

You know. That kind of thing.

What I did there was create an antithesis.

Antithesis is a highly effective device in writing. It comes in handy when writing persuasively because it lets you clearly compare two contrasting ideas.

Antithesis can make one argument stand out over another, so it’s a fabulous tool writers can use for coming up with thought-provoking dictums.

“To err is human; to forgive divine.”

— Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism.

I keep that one up my sleeve for when I burn the lasagne, forget someone’s birthday, sorry Mum, or fart at an inappropriate moment, sorry Princess Anne (that’s another story).

We commonly use antithesis in figures of speech to explain life’s difficulties in simpler terms. *Easy come, easy go has been used for decades and probably originated from lightly come, lightly go, or quickly come, quickly go*, which have been around since the 1600s.

Easy come, easy go is an informal phrase that slips off the tongue as easily as losing your wager on a donkey at the races. And in those circumstances, it is a useful lament. There is an inherent wisdom in the saying, it helps us accept our loss.

It is a concise version of,

“Wealth quickly gained will dwindle, but the wealth of the one who gathers it little by little will increase.”

— Proverbs 13:11

That is the beauty of antithesis. It condenses the complicated. It says more with less. It replaces an hour-long lecture about why sticking together is important —

“United we stand, divided we fall.”

— Attributed to the ancient Greek storyteller Aesop

The best antitheses have a rhythm. Our musical brain loves rhythm. Our brain tunes in to patterns; the harmonious beat of a drum, the way the petals of a rose intertwine, or in writing where phrases, sentences, and paragraphs balance one element with another.

Antitheses are especially awesome because we remember them. Memory experts use linking techniques to recall shopping lists, the order of a pack of cards, or π (Pi) to however many decimal places.

An antithesis is a simpler version — say one thing and up pops the other in our head. The more unexpected, the easier they are to remember. How many of these slip off your tongue?

• One man’s junk…
• Hope for the best…
• Out of sight…
• Float like a butterfly…
• I’m on a seafood diet…

If you didn’t get the last one it’s …when I see food I eat it.

Aphorisms are pithy sayings that lay bare the ironies of our existence and are even more amusing when written as antitheses.

“Faith and philosophy are air, but events are brass.”

— Herman Melville, Pierre.

“Love is blind, but marriage restores its sight.”

— Lichtenberg, Aphorisms.

“I’m not a pessimist; I’m an optimist with experience”

— Malky McEwan, Trying to be funny and clever at the same time.

There is something missing from these examples — the laugh.

Giphy

Nobody reading that will hold their sides and complain they can’t breathe. That’s because they don’t use the rule of three.

Comedians use the rule of three. They state a series of examples — Item 1, item 2, unexpected/absurd item 3.

With the first item, they establish a pattern, with the second one they reinforce and maintain that pattern. When they reach the third item, the critical moment, they deliver the unexpected twist or punchline.

Boom, boom, bang.

With an antithesis, we don’t establish the pattern. It’s boom, bang. But in the right circumstances, this can still be funny. Think double acts, Abbot and Costello, Laurel and Hardy, Thatcher and Reagan. (See what I did there).

Double acts rely on the straight man feeding the funny man the line.

“Can I use your lawnmower?”

“Of course, as long as you don't take it out of my garden.”

— Morecambe and Wise, Circa 1966

If you are penning for a funny character, have her use an antithesis to finish the straight characters' simple observations. It’s an easy way to present your character as witty and clever, without directly saying.

And finally.

All antitheses follow the same formula. Say something simple, then add an unexpected inversion. However, there is another hidden requirement — somewhere in your antithesis, there must be a general truth.

Without some basis in fact or reality, the phrase will be empty and seem silly or incongruous. The truth doesn’t have to be life-shattering information — an elephant is easy to see: once you open your eyes.

There just needs to be something in there that will make readers nod their heads and think, ‘That’s true.’

Malky McEwan

The Magic Art (of saying more with less) is part of a series and can be found by clicking here.