The Cusslerian Metaphor

For those who don't know, I'm a fan of Clive Cussler, a prolific author of adventure fiction. His books are bestsellers, with a worldwide following. The recent film Sahara was based on his novel of the same name. Most of his novels recount the adventures of Dirk Pitt, the manliest of heroes. With steely resolve and an encyclopedia's worth of competencies, Dirk Pitt can accomplish anything. The books are good fun: not deep, but exciting.

I am not, however, a wholly uncritical reader of Cussler. Many weaknesses of the novels may be overlooked due to genre considerations, so I will not dwell on those. But one in particular--his use of metaphor--is especially funny and wince-making. Clive Cussler has used more mixed, silly, and unintelligible metaphors than any other author I've read, including the ones who do so in jest.

An example: when Dirk Pitt dives down a cenote (a sacrificial well) to rescue two drowning archaeologists, a band of student workers waits up top to pull him out again. Their zeal is described thusly by Pitt's pal, Al Giordino, on page 48 of Inca Gold:

"If I don't hold these kids by the collar, they'll jerk you out of there so fast you'll feel like you were fired from a cannonball."

Not fired from a cannon, mind you: "fired from a cannonball". This is, of course, so nonsensical as to rob the metaphor entirely of meaning.

But this pales in comparison to the hilarity of his use of "overextended" metaphors: metaphors that include more information than is useful or necessary for the purpose of comparative description. Another example, this time from Pitt's own mouth, as he describes an Inca warrior sealed inside a stalactite (Inca Gold 388):

"In time, he was encased like a scorpion inside a cheap gift shop acrylic resin paperweight."

Not merely a scorpion in a paperweight, but a "cheap" paperweight from a "gift shop", made of "acrylic resin". All this extra information is trivial and (worse) distracting. Why couldn't it have been a glass paperweight? Or, heck, why not just use the cliche, "like a fly in amber"? I'd have done the latter, personally. Sometimes a fresh and original metaphor is called for, but not all the time in popular fiction, when the prose should be clear enough for the reader to digest without mulling over the specific words. A good metaphor, even if well-worn, allows the reader to slide through the text smoothly; an ineffective or inordinately complex metaphor stalls out that comfortable slide and breaks the story's spell. The reader becomes aware that he is reading, which should only happen when the author wants it to happen.

Anyway, I bring up the topic of Cusslerian metaphor for this reason: I find them amusing, and therefore intend to feature them on my blog periodically. Watch for it!