Grammar Moses: Synecdoche ain't a city in New York

If you're like me, you sat in awe and puzzlement as you watched the Charlie Kaufman-directed film starring Philip Seymour Hoffman titled "Synecdoche, New York."

There was something grand and profound unfolding before me, as is usually the case when Kaufman is directing, but it's always a bit beyond my cerebral reach. More likely, I grow weary from trying so hard to understand what he's getting at.

When I first heard of the film, I thought someone must have been drunk when designing the DVD box. Synecdoche? It's spelled "Schenectady!"

Eleven years ago when the film was released, I was unaware "synecdoche" was a word, let alone what it means. Now that I know, perhaps Roger Ebert wasn't entirely nuts when he called it his favorite film of the 2000s.

In the film, Hoffman's character, a troubled theater director, creates a replica of New York City in a gigantic warehouse over the course of 20 years or so. He is so consumed by the project that it becomes difficult for him - and us - to distinguish the real thing from the set and the actors.

Don't worry, dear reader, I'll leave the film criticism to the great Dann Gire. This is about synecdoche (si-NEK-duh-kee), a rather complex figure of speech by which a part is put for the whole, the whole for a part, the species for the genus, the genus for the species or the name of the material for the thing made.

What is most top of mind for me is the last in that list.

My friend Jason Orna loves music but only recently discovered "vinyls."

In a moment that clearly defined our generational difference, I explained to him that I play records that, yes, are made of vinyl but are called "records" by humans.

Sportscasters employee this type of synecdoche: "He put lumber on that ball!"

If you went to your mechanic and told him to check out your new wheels, he might pull out an impact wrench to ensure your lug nuts were tight.

If you were to tell your buddy to check out your new wheels, he would ogle your new car as a whole.

I guess it's all about your perspective.

In the case of wheels, the synecdoche uses a part to describe the whole.

If someone asked "How's the world treating you?" she would be using the whole to describe a part (or the genus to describe the species.)

If you were to order a Coke in Atlanta, your waiter might ask "What kind?"

In Atlanta, where Coke is king, people refer to soda generically as Coke. That's an example of using the species to refer to the genus.

You might recall my recent column regarding brand names that are used to describe a broader group. Same thing.

If you're not familiar with the relationship between "genus" and "species," I'll trust you to dig your moldering Bio 101 textbook out of the basement.

Tresspassers?

On my travels over Memorial Day weekend, my family took a lap around Washington Island, which is a ferry ride from the mainland of Door County, Wisconsin. It's an interesting place - not as touristy as the rest of the Door, but it has its share of folks who clearly want the interlopers to leave them alone.

Case in point: this sign I photographed.

I guess this is what they call North Woods justice.

Beyond the tongue-in-cheek warning, I found the spelling of "tresspassers" interesting.

"Tresspassers" evokes an image of people donating their hair to Locks of Love.

Or perhaps it should be defined as the act of trying to pass off your toupee as the real thing.

Write carefully!

• Jim Baumann is vice president/managing editor of the Daily Herald. Write him at jbaumann@dailyherald.com. Put Grammar Moses in the subject line. You also can friend or follow Jim at facebook.com/baumannjim.