Syllepsis (sil-lep’-sis): When a single word that governs or modifies two or more others must be understood differently with respect to each of those words. A combination of grammatical parallelism and semantic incongruity, often with a witty or comical effect. Not to be confused with zeugma: [a general term describing when one part of speech {most often the main verb, but sometimes a noun} governs two or more other parts of a sentence {often in a series}].
I was spooning my soup, but I really wanted to be spooning Nell. I couldn’t show my romantic inclinations in front of her mother at the dinner table. My presence was an experiment. Her mother wanted to see what kind of person I am and she felt that the dinner table—with the play of manners—was the best place to do so. Nell and I had been dating for one year, and this was my 75th dinner with the Tonbells. We have the same thing every time. Leek soup, bread and butter, meatloaf, potatoes, and carrots with ice water and ginger snaps and hot tea for dessert. The food was pretty good, but enough was enough. Nell said that I should wait for her mother to ask if I wanted to marry her (Nell). I had agreed up until now. The time had come for me to ask for Nell’s hand. When we were having our tea, I asked.
Nell’s mother looked at me as if I had punched her, and that asking for Nell’s hand was a curse from hell. I was shocked when she pulled a handgun out of her dress and pointed it at her head and said, “If you marry my daughter, I will kill myself.” I had recently completed a course in conflict management at the local community college, so I was ready.: “Conflicts are over who has what rights and responsibilities, facts, and motives. Listening is . . . “ She didn’t let me finish. She aimed the pistol at me and said “I’m going to shoot you when we finish our tea.” “What’s so bad about me?” I asked in tears. She said, “You want to marry my idiot daughter, that’s what’s so bad. She has no taste. She would marry an SUV if it was wearing pants. She needs to marry a doctor who can take care of her.” We were almost done with our tea. The end was near.
I told Nell’s mother that I would go to medical school and become a brain surgeon. She put down the gun and said she would reconsider. That night she fell out of her bedroom window and broke her neck and died. I thought “Good riddance.” She was completely insane. Nell’s father had left years earlier, after Nell’s mother had put marbles on the stairs and he had suffered a broken leg and arm and a concussion.
Nell and I got married. We had leek soup once a month in memory of her mother. I’m pretty sure Nell killed her mother, but I’m not going to ask her.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)
The Daily Trope is available on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.
The Daily Trope 