Literary notes about gash (AI summary)
The word “gash” is used with a striking versatility in literature, often evoking the raw, physical imagery of wounds and cuts. It appears in vivid descriptions of violent injury, as when a character’s flesh is torn open by a knife ([1], [2]), or when blood gushes from a severe cut in battle ([3], [4]). Yet, its application is not limited to the tangible; it also serves as a powerful metaphor for emotional suffering or national decay, suggesting deep, often irreparable scars on character or society ([5], [6], [7]). In some instances the term even broadens its scope to depict physical ruptures in landscapes, creating images of nature as if marred by a brutal cut ([8]). This multifaceted use underscores the word’s capacity to convey both physical and psychological trauma across a wide range of literary contexts.
- Picking up the knife from the ground whereon Jude had flung it, she slipped it into the gash, and slit the windpipe.
— from Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy - But, one morning, Father Milon was found stretched out in the barn, with a sword gash across his face.
— from Complete Original Short Stories of Guy De Maupassant by Guy de Maupassant - Friar Mathieu had tripled the width of the lower wound and was now pulling the lips of the gash apart, peering intently into it.
— from The Saracen: Land of the Infidel by Robert Shea - I ran back for a light and there was the poor fellow, a great gash in his throat and the whole place swimming in blood.
— from The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle - I mean to say, while firmly resolved to tick him off, I didn't want to gash his feelings too deeply.
— from Right Ho, Jeeves by P. G. Wodehouse - Her speed had faltered under the weight of her child and her chains; that gash on her shoulder tells her to move on.
— from My Bondage and My Freedom by Frederick Douglass - She weeps, she bleeds, 'and each new day a gash is added to her wounds.'
— from Shakespearean Tragedy: Lectures on Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth by A. C. Bradley - The sun had long set, but one blood-red gash like an open wound lay low in the distant west.
— from His Last Bow: An Epilogue of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle