Grammar as Rhetoric and Style

Parallel Structures

Sentences or parts of a sentence are parallel when structures within them take the same form. Parallelism is important at the level of the word, the phrase, and the clause.

Words

Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life?

—Henry David Thoreau

In this sentence, the words hurry and waste, both nouns, follow the preposition with; hurry and waste are parallel.

In eternity there is indeed something true and sublime.

—Henry David Thoreau

In this sentence, the words true and sublime, both adjectives, modify the pronoun something; true and sublime are parallel.

Phrases

Men esteem truth remote, in the outskirts of the system behind the farthest star, before Adam and after the last man.

—Henry David Thoreau

To modify the adjective remote in this first sentence, Thoreau uses parallel prepositional phrases: in the outskirts, before the farthest star, before Adam, and after the last man.

More difficult because there is no zeitgeist to read, no template to follow, no mask to wear.

—Anna Quindlen

And in the preceding sentence, Anna Quindlen uses three parallel nouns each preceded by no and each followed by an infinitive: no zeitgeist to read, no template to follow, and no mask to wear.

Clauses

“Where I Lived, and What I Lived For”

—Title of an essay by—Henry David Thoreau

The title of Thoreau’s essay consists of two parallel dependent, or subordinate, clauses; one begins with where, and the other begins with what.

[W]e perceive that only great and worthy things have any permanent and absolute existence, that petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of the reality.

—Henry David Thoreau

The preceding example contains two parallel dependent clauses, each beginning with that and functioning as an object of the verb perceive.

If we are really dying, let us hear the rattle in our throats and feel cold in the extremities; if we are alive, let us go about our business.

—Henry David Thoreau

This example begins with a dependent clause (If . . . dying) followed by an independent, or main, clause (let . . . extremities); then, after the semicolon, Thoreau presents another dependent-independent construction, parallel to the first.

Lack of Parallelism

To fully appreciate the power of the parallelism created by Thoreau and Quindlen in the preceding examples, consider what happens when supposedly equal elements of a sentence do not follow the same grammatical or syntactical form—that is, when they are not parallel with each other.

Why should we live with such hurry and to waste life?

This version of Thoreau’s sentence tries to modify the verb should live by coordinating a prepositional phrase, with such hurry, with an infinitive phrase, to waste life. The two phrases are not parallel with each other, and as a result, the sentence lacks balance and force.

Parallelism can be tricky when the elements—words, phrases, or clauses—are separated by modifiers or other syntactical elements. The following sentence may not at first glance seem to lack parallelism:

It [the process of friendships fading] was sweet and sad and, though you’d rarely admit it, a necessity.

When you analyze carefully, you notice that sweet and sad are adjectives, and necessity is a noun. Notice that in the actual sentence that Scott Brown wrote in “Friendonomics,” he makes all three words parallel adjectives:

It was sweet and sad, and though you’d rarely admit it, necessary.

—Scott Brown

The fact that all three are adjectives underscores the unity in the qualities Brown argues is the natural ebb and flow of friendships fading: it’s sweet and sad and also necessary.

Parallelism is often at its most effective at the level of the clause, but, again, it may be difficult to keep track. Let’s use an example from Malcolm Gladwell. Here it is without parallel structure:

In other words, Facebook activism succeeds not by motivating people to make a real sacrifice but when people are motivated to do things even though they are not motivated enough to make a real sacrifice.

That sentence makes sense—once you’ve untangled all the motivations!—but the emphasis Gladwell intends is on the not: people are not motivated by x but by y. In the sentence that actually appears in his essay, he repeats the phrase by motivating and thus uses parallel structure to emphasize the contrast:

In other words, Facebook activism succeeds not by motivating people to make a real sacrifice but by motivating them to do the things that people do when they are not motivated enough to make a real sacrifice.

—Malcolm Gladwell

Rhetorical and Stylistic Strategy

Looking first at the parallel sentences at the beginning of this lesson and then at the rewrites that lack parallelism, you can see that writers use parallelism on the level of the word, phrase, or clause as a rhetorical and stylistic device to emphasize ideas, to contrast ideas, or to connect ideas.

Following are the names, definitions, and examples of specific types of parallelism:

anaphora: Repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of successive phrases, clauses, or lines.

But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick, and even kill your black brothers and sisters; . . . when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”—then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.

—Martin Luther King Jr.

In this example, form follows function. Just as King is saying that African Americans have had to endure unjust treatment as they waited for full civil rights, this series of parallel clauses makes the reader wait—and wait—for the main point in the independent clause.

antimetabole: Repetition of words in reverse order.

We do not ride on the railroad; it rides upon us.

—Henry David Thoreau

Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.

—John F. Kennedy

The example above from President Kennedy is, perhaps, his most famous quote. Part of what makes this quote so “quotable” is that the repetition inherent in antimetabole makes it dramatic and easy to remember. Because the pattern of the two clauses is so similar, the listener only needs to remember one pattern. Because that sentence pattern is repeated, it gives the listener two chances to understand the entire sentence and places extra emphasis on the second part. It is almost as if Kennedy is repeating a point for emphasis. Keep an eye out for antimetabole in modern political soundbites.

antithesis: Opposition, or contrast, of ideas or words in a parallel construction.

[F]reedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.

—Martin Luther King Jr.

One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.

—Martin Luther King Jr.

That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.

—Neil Armstrong

In all three of these examples, the parallel structure creates a clear comparison between two things in order to emphasize the difference between them. Given by the oppressor is contrasted in meaning and in placement with demanded by the oppressed. Notice also how the parallel prepositional phrases by the oppressor and by the oppressed call attention to the tension between oppressor and oppressed.

zeugma: Use of two different words in a grammatically similar way that produces different, often incongruous, meanings.

Someone sent me a T-shirt not long ago that read “Well-Behaved Women Don’t Make History.” They don’t make good lawyers, either, or doctors or businesswomen.

—Anna Quindlen

You are free to execute your laws and your citizens as you see fit.

Star Trek: The Next Generation

In this example, the zeugma is created when the verb make takes many different nouns as its direct object: history, but also, lawyers, doctors, and businesswomen. While all of these words are nouns, they do not have the same meanings—history is not an occupation, while all the other nouns are. There is a consistency in the pattern, but an inconsistency in the meaning of the words. Quindlen exploits the ironic inconsistency of the zeugma to draw a connection between two things that her audience might not otherwise think of as connected: activists who fought for women’s rights, and women today who are trying to build their careers.