Abstract
“On Synecdoche” emerges out of poetic fragments. The scene is along the BR-116—the Brazilian interstate—as it snakes treacherously through the sheer mountains of Minas Gerais. It is a double scene, however, and too uncanny at that. For I have been in an accident once before with this same person on this same stretch of road at this same time of year. But this story describes my response when I happen on a video of the second and fatal accident that a passenger from the impacting bus has weirdly posted on YouTube. In the video of the wreckage, my eye is caught by the indelible image of a hand, the “part” that does exceedingly more than stand in for the whole. It sets off chains of associations. If the story must be read as an argument, it is that the power of synecdoche has been underestimated. For the part does not merely stand in for the whole; rather, it exceeds the whole, resounding, reverberating, growing, and taking on magical powers.
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