Personification: Reference to abstractions or inanimate objects as though they had human qualities or abilities. The English term for prosopopeia (pro-so-po-pe’-i-a) or ethopoeia (e-tho-po’-ia): the description and portrayal of a character (natural propensities, manners and affections, etc.).
My bathroom mirror was telling me “You’re an old bastard.” I squirted a smiley face on it with shaving cream and said “That’ll shut you up!” I got dressed and went downstairs to make breakfast. I decided to make scrambled eggs. I pulled a dish out of the dishwasher and there I was—my face reflected on the dish. It said “You are an old coot. You’re no good for anything any more.” I put the dish gown on the table and covered it with a napkin to cover my reflection. I made my scrambled eggs, pulled off the napkin and dumped on the eggs. That quieted down the dish and I ate in peace. That afternoon, I bought paper plates to eat off of, so I wouldn’t have to listen to the dishes deride me. I decided to cover all of my reflective surfaces with duct tape. The hardest was the marble countertops. At the last minute, I remembered my car’s rearview mirror. I could only see my eyes in it, but it still talked to me: “What’re those things below your eyes, garbage bags or adult diapers?” I thought about tearing it out instead of taping it over. I opted for tape. Anyway, I could use my outside mirrors to see behind me.
My birthday came, right before Christmas. We had a party at my house. My dad and brother carried in a pretty big present. I opened it. It was a full length mirror. It started to say “You look. . . .” I kicked it. The mirror shattered. I looked at the shards on the floor—every one had something different to say. I looked up and saw all my guests backed up against the wall. Uncle Sid, the cop, had pulled his service revolver. He was aiming it at me.
I tried to explain how reflective surfaces talked to me, insulting me and taunting me about my age. My mother shook her head and said “Poor baby.” Right now, I’m under observation in a small room at Petal Creek Sanitarium. I have a sink with a mirror over it. Every time I walk past the mirror and glance at it, it has something to say. Last time it said “You’re so fat when you skip a meal the stock market drops.” I didn’t understand what it meant, but it pissed me off. So, I’ve decided to keep my eyes shut all time, or maybe wear two eye patches.
Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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