Syllepsis
A construction in which one word governs two others in different senses at once.
Syllepsis (Greek, 'a taking together') is the figure in which a single word — usually a verb or a preposition — governs two or more other words, though it applies to each of them in a different sense. 'She lost her keys and her temper.' 'He took his hat and his leave.' 'You held your breath and the door for me.' The verb 'lost' means one thing with 'keys' and quite another with 'temper', and the double meaning is the whole joke.
Syllepsis is closely related to zeugma, and in some rhetorics the two words are treated as synonyms. The most common distinction is this: in a strict zeugma, one of the two applications is grammatically or semantically ill-fitting; in a syllepsis, both applications are grammatically fine but semantically different. In practice the two labels overlap and even style guides disagree.
The figure is a workhorse of comic and satirical writing. Pope, Dickens, and Wodehouse use it constantly. Its economy is what makes it funny: a single verb doing two very different jobs in the same breath produces a small collision in the reader's mind, which is what registers as wit.
As with most figures of speech, one syllepsis in a paragraph is a jewel; three in a row is a routine. The device works because it is unexpected; when it becomes the writer's default rhythm, it stops surprising.
“She lowered her standards by raising her glass, / Her courage, her eyes, and his hopes.”
Keep reading the glossary
A figure in which one word governs two or more others in different senses — often for wit or surprise.
The use of one part of speech as another — most often a noun used as a verb.
A statement that appears self-contradictory but reveals a deeper truth on reflection.
A figure that pairs two contradictory terms in a single phrase — 'deafening silence', 'bittersweet'.