The Complete Aristotle (eng.)

activity. Thus, to say that a good man is
‘four-square’ is certainly a metaphor; both the good man and the
square are perfect; but the metaphor does not suggest activity. On
the other hand, in the expression ‘with his vigour in full bloom’
there is a notion of activity; and so in ‘But you must roam as free
as a sacred victim’; and in
Thereas up sprang the Hellenes to their feet,
    where ‘up sprang’ gives us activity as well as metaphor, for it
at once suggests swiftness. So with Homer’s common practice of
giving metaphorical life to lifeless things: all such passages are
distinguished by the effect of activity they convey. Thus,
Downward anon to the valley rebounded the boulder
remorseless;
    and
The (bitter) arrow flew;
    and
Flying on eagerly;
    and
Stuck in the earth, still panting to feed on the flesh of the
heroes;
    and
And the point of the spear in its fury drove
full through his breastbone.
    In all these examples the things have the effect of being active
because they are made into living beings; shameless behaviour and
fury and so on are all forms of activity. And the poet has attached
these ideas to the things by means of proportional metaphors: as
the stone is to Sisyphus, so is the shameless man to his victim. In
his famous similes, too, he treats inanimate things in the same
way:
Curving and crested with white, host following
host without ceasing.
    Here he represents everything as moving and living; and activity
is movement.
    Metaphors must be drawn, as has been said already, from things
that are related to the original thing, and yet not obviously so
related-just as in philosophy also an acute mind will perceive
resemblances even in things far apart. Thus Archytas said that an
arbitrator and an altar were the same, since the injured fly to
both for refuge. Or you might say that an anchor and an overhead
hook were the same, since both are in a way the same, only the one
secures things from below and the other from above. And to speak of
states as ‘levelled’ is to identify two widely different things,
the equality of a physical surface and the equality of political
powers.
    Liveliness is specially conveyed by metaphor, and by the further
power of surprising the hearer; because the hearer expected
something different, his acquisition of the new idea impresses him
all the more. His mind seems to say, ‘Yes, to be sure; I never
thought of that’. The liveliness of epigrammatic remarks is due to
the meaning not being just what the words say: as in the saying of
Stesichorus that ‘the cicalas will chirp to themselves on the
ground’. Well-constructed riddles are attractive for the same
reason; a new idea is conveyed, and there is metaphorical
expression. So with the ‘novelties’ of Theodorus. In these the
thought is startling, and, as Theodorus puts it, does not fit in
with the ideas you already have. They are like the burlesque words
that one finds in the comic writers. The effect is produced even by
jokes depending upon changes of the letters of a word; this too is
a surprise. You find this in verse as well as in prose. The word
which comes is not what the hearer imagined: thus
Onward he came, and his feet were shod with his-chilblains,
    where one imagined the word would be ‘sandals’. But the point
should be clear the moment the words are uttered. Jokes made by
altering the letters of a word consist in meaning, not just what
you say, but something that gives a twist to the word used; e.g.
the remark of Theodorus about Nicon the harpist Thratt’ ei su (’you
Thracian slavey’), where he pretends to mean Thratteis su (’you
harpplayer’), and surprises us when we find he means something
else. So you enjoy the point when you see it, though the remark
will fall flat unless you are aware that Nicon is Thracian. Or
again: Boulei auton persai. In both these cases the saying must fit
the facts. This is also true of such lively remarks as the one to
the effect that to the Athenians their empire (arche) of the sea
was not the beginning (arche) of their troubles, since they gained
by it. Or the opposite one of Isocrates, that their empire (arche)
was the beginning (arche) of their troubles. Either way, the
speaker says something unexpected, the soundness of which is
thereupon recognized. There would be nothing clever is saying
‘empire is empire’. Isocrates means more than that, and uses the
word with a new meaning. So too with the former saying, which
denies that arche in one sense