He said, "Metaphor is a carrion bird that will peck at your eyes until you can no longer see anything for what it is. Uproot metaphor from your speech, making sure to get all the roots, and cast it into the fire. A metaphor is a hiding place where we try to keep our ignorance. Ignorance, however, should be shed, not kept. Molt, therefore, from ambiguity into clarity, leaving the old dead skin of metaphor to dry up and blow away."
"I don't know," I said. "Sometimes I think a metaphor is just a metaphor. It's okay. Everyone has seen a bird flapping furiously against the wind, getting nowhere. I'm seeing it right now, in you."
That was all he could take. He got up, angrily, and stormed out. He had hoped for an abundant harvest, but his seed had found no purchase.
What I'm saying is that he felt as though he had an important principle to promote but, rather than accepting and appreciating it, I questioned its legitimacy. This was disappointing for him. I don't know. Maybe it's just me, but I just think that "he had hoped for an abundant harvest, but his seed had found no purchase" sounds better.
It was too bad that he left. I had hoped to share with him my recent rejection of personification. "Personification hates the living," I was going to say. "She wants to steal the vitality of the vital and give it to the dust of the earth. I'll not abide it!" I was going to add, dramatically. "I'm going to kill her!"
Hello, friends. I hope you're well. Tell me one thing you've recently learned.