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The Mighty Pathetic

The Pathetic Fallacy (PF) appears more often in literary textbooks than in philosophical ones. As a sometime fan of the gothic romantic period, I thought for a while that the PF dealt entirely with the weather, especially cases in which weather echoes the emotions of the protagonist. Lightening flashes around castle Dracula. A rainstorm gathers around Heathcliff and Catherine on the moor. The sky clamors with trumpets and heraldry during a quest for a Holy Grail (OK, Monty Python may be more romanticized than romantic).

THE PATHETIC FALLACY:  the treatment of inanimate objects as though they had human feelings, thoughts, or sensations. Also known as the anthropomorphic fallacy. Here the word "pathetic" is "non-pejorative" (not disrespectful) and means something more like "empathetic," or "sympathetic." 

In an argument, the PF might be used poetically to make nearby objects seem to agree with one's point. For instance, you ate your friend's chimichanga leftovers because the foil covering winked at you. That half chimichanga wanted to be eaten. Spandex might hug your attractive calves. The stapler might nod in agreement with your "Machiavelli in Hamlet" essay. Things in the world make sense if we can relate to them like people. For this reason, personification (of which the PF is a kind) can serve as a mnemonic, making abstract, faceless ideas easier to understand. My friend Aaron sees a person in the notes on guitar strings: Eddie Ate Dynamite. Good Bye Eddie (EADGBE). 

The inaccuracy in the PF is that most inanimate objects don't actually have the human characteristics—no man called Eddie died during the stringing of your guitar, hopefully. The PF is unlikely to be a source of major confusion. And if confusion resulted, what would be the worst that could happen? Well, the mistake of supposing that objects have human ears might cause us to break out into an apostrophe, or an address to the object. Some of the best apostrophes begin with the word "O," as in "O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth"(Julius Caesar) and "O Manolo Blahniks, depart thy window" (Sex and the City). I have always enjoyed reading apostrophe, many of which can be found at the McSweeney's online series, Open Letters to Persons or Entities Unlikely to Respond. I believe McSweeney's publishes these letters as a public service, encouraging people to write down whatever they have to say to their bowling shoes or to the 12th Ave. park bench rather than uttering the speeches in public, which might distract police attention from people with actual drug problems. If apostrophe amuses you, you might check out the metafictional graphic novel series, Jack of Fables, which features a character called Gary who is the Pathetic Fallacy personified. Apostrophe is Gary's friend, or, more precisely, it provides him with friends.

Apparently the definition of the Pathetic Fallacy goes beyond weather to accommodate the anthropomorphism of frosting, shopping carts, gymnasiums, and what have you, as long as the emotions transfer from person to thing. Here was my problem: my illustrations must involve snails. Snails fall somewhere in between people and things. Should the snail play the person here? Should I draw something in the world, clouds perhaps, enacting the emotions of a snail, or should the snail become the object that receives the human behavior? I went with the latter, in part because I'm a little fuzzy on the topic of snail emotions. I could have shown something being slow, I suppose, or afraid of salt. Wait. I think that's true of slugs. Anyway, I settled on ascribing human qualities to the shell, both literally and abstractly, for the shell has the quality of curiosity and observation, looking back at the looker. It has been staring at me for some time, and I'm starting to find it creepy. O, pardon my pejorative, thou piece of sketchwork, but look at someone else for while. 

† Bonus: the covers to the Jack of Fables series are drawn by one of my favorite artists, James Jean.

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