Tag Archives: rhetoric

Anapodoton (an’-a-po’-do-ton): A figure in which a main clause is suggested by the introduction of a subordinate clause, but that main clause never occurs.

Anapodoton is a kind of anacoluthon, since grammatical expectations are interrupted. If the expression trails off, leaving the subordinate clause incomplete, this is sometimes more specifically called anantapodoton. Anapodoton has also named what occurs when a main clause is omitted because the speaker interrupts himself/herself to revise the thought, leaving the initial clause grammatically unresolved but making use of it nonetheless by recasting its content into a new, grammatically complete sentence.

She yelled, “if you think I’m going to stand here and take your bullshit!” Because she had big feet, the feet were the first thing people noticed. And they made fun of her. She had developed a come back for nearly every foot or shoe joke. Somebody would say “Nice gunboats—they look like battleships.” She would say, “Yeah, they’re gun boats and they’re aimed at your balls, so shut up!”

It was hard to find a decent cobbler, so her shoes were frequently misshapen. She was stuck for six months one time with giant clown shoes that had originally been made for Ronald McDonald, but gave him blisters on his heels because they were too small. At 20 inches long, that’s hard to believe, but Ronald wore a size 22. She, Rosetta, wore a size 20. In winter, she wore specially crafted shoes that looked like snowshoes. It was a real relief not to be teased, until she went indoors and clomped around in her “snowshoes.” The rest of the year was tough. She had special boots made of alligator skin that curled up at the toes—they looked like Mexican pointy boots. She spent her summers in Juarez where she was one of many pointy boot wearers. In addition to alligator she had anteater, plain calfskin, and shark skin pairs made. She picked up the nickname “Botas” (Boots) and felt more respected than she had ever felt in her entire life. Everything was going great, until on night, somebody stole all of her boots out from under her bed. She was panic stricken. If she had new boots made in Juarez, word would get out that she was using them to conceal her giant feet. She was ready to dive out her window, when she thought of cosmetic surgery. She was told when she was young that her feet could not be safely reconfigured with a scalpel.

She looked out her window and saw a boy walking down the street wearing her alligator boots. She yelled out the window, “Hey kid, will you sell me your boots?” The kids asked “What’ll you give me?” “She yelled back “$200, and that’s final. Leave them with the desk clerk, and that’s where the money will be.” The exchange worked perfectly. She wore pillow cases over her feet when she went down to the lobby to pick up the boots. It was like her life had been restored—like she had come back from the grave. She got a padlock for her door and a .357 derringer. “Never again!” she yelled at her mirror and went out to celebrate her good luck.

She got drunk and woke up with an ugly old man trying to pull one of her boots off. She pulled her .357 out of her backpack and aimed it at the old man. He pulled off her boot and was shocked by the size of her foot. She was compromised! In a split second, she decided not to shoot him. Instead, she packed her bags and went back to Wisconsin where her feet were still a secret. As usual, she had to fly first class because her feet wouldn’t fit under economy class seats—even with extra legroom.

When she got home, her friends were waiting for her, with a cake shaped like a pointy boot, candles and balloons. “We know about your feet!” they yelled and presented her with a new pair of pointy boots. It was the high point of her life—accepted, feet and all. Jack Placker stepped out from the crowd, embraced her and asked her to dance. They put on “Dancing With Myself.” Rosetta and Jack went wild. He tripped over her pointy boots, hit his head on the radiator, and was knocked unconscious. An ambulance took him to the hospital, and the next thing she knew, Rosetta was being sued for “wearing dangerous footwear, and thereby, causing bodily harm.” She was shocked. Everything was going so well. She decided to have foot reduction surgery. It was a dangerous procedure. One out of five people died of post surgery complications. Post-surgery, Rosetta developed fatal “complications.” She was found hanging in her garage wearing only one pointy boot. Her death is being investigated as a murder. The missing pointy boot was from what was left of her left foot. There was a note pinned to the remaining boot. It said “Walk a mile in my pointy boot.”

There was a memorial service. The guests all cried, out of grief and shame, and wore pointy boots to show their love for Rosetta. Then, there was a miracle! Rosetta showed up on crutches. The guests were stunned. The police explained that the ruse had worked and Jack Placker had been arrested.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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