Like a Human

You may recall the seagull Greeadbeak from previous blogs, an opinionated bird most interested in corn chips cast her way by tourists on the bay front. You probably also know that actual seagulls on the real bay front are not inclined to have much more personality than any other gulls, at least as far as we humans can know.

When I include Greeadbeak in a blog, I personify her as a talking, thinking bird, much like a human. In short, she has human traits, maybe not the most sterling of human traits, but human, nonetheless.

An official literary term – personification – means to assign human characteristics to another species, to inanimate objects, or to abstract ideas, anything other than human. Many writers employ the technique, which seems natural to me since humans do tend to ascribe their own traits to the rest of the universe and all contained within it.

In literature, instances of personification abound, particularly in poetry; but you need not even open a book to find examples of personification. Song lyrics, like poetry, are filled with personification, for example a guitar that weeps, wind that cries, love that stinks. Disney movies give mice and many other animals or objects (teacups dancing and singing) human characteristics routinely. In our daily lives, we may name our cars or surfboards, lending a human quality to them.

Examples of creatures or objects or ideas given human characteristics in advertising are also ubiquitous, like the industrious little bubbles with eyes, the ones that scrub the tub. You can, doubtless, think of many more instances in which you’ve used personification or noticed it.

A contrasting term - theriomorphic - means giving humans the qualities or traits of animals or objects or abstract ideas. One recent example is a funny Super Bowl commercial in which a man goes after a brand name tortilla chip like a very hungry bird. He flaps his arms and dives for the bag of chips, a lot like Greeadbeak when she sees golden and crisp treats.

It is altogether human to imagine, to use imagery, to attribute to the world our own qualities and attributes or to turn it around and assign some aspect of the world to ourselves, the strength of a rock, the restlessness of a wave.

See you next time the breeze is cool, the sun is up, and the waves roll into view! ‘Til then, hang ten!