Anadiplosis

I found myself compelled to look up the name for this rhetorical device, having come across it a lot both in (recently read) Ms. Dalloway and (currently reading) The Wings of The Dove. Definition:

The repetition of the last word (or phrase) from the previous line, clause, or sentence at the beginning of the next.

In James, I find anadiplosis often occurring in the midst of two long sentences, a sort of hinge to them:

She had come alone, putting her friend off with a fraud: giving a pretext of shops, of a whim, of she didn’t know what –the amusement of being for once in the streets by herself. The streets by herself were knew to her — she had always had in them a companion, or a maid; and he was never to believe, moreover, that she couldn’t take full in the face anything he might have to say.

Looking back in Woolf, I’m actually finding more anaphora than anadiplosis, but here are a couple examples:

–“They hunt in packs. Their packs scour the desert and vanish screaming into the wilderness.”
–“But women, he thought, shutting his picket-knife, don’t know what passion is. They don’t know the meaning of it to men.”
–“Gloves and shoes; she had a passion for gloves; but her own daughter, her Elizabeth, cared not a straw for either of them. (paragraph) Not a straw, she thought, going on up Bond street to a shop where they kept flower for her when she gave a party.”

There’s a specific use of anadiplosis I was thinking of these books sharing, but which I would have to investigate further to confirm; which involves starting a sentence with the word concluding the last for the specific purpose of launching into a new thought. The last Dalloway example given would seem an instance of that: Woolf wants to go from talking about hats and shoes and Dalloway’s daughter to Dalloway’s immediate surroundings, and she uses this rhetorical device as a sort of technique for achieving that.


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