But the cat as a whole being is absent; only its parts - back, muzzle, tongue - and its actions - rubbing, licking, jumping - are explicit representations of the animal. Eagleton's theory, therefore, of the “transition from metaphor to metonymy”3 is summarized here. The metaphor of a cat has been broken down into a series of metonymies, of parts linked only through contiguity, a perfect reflection of Prufrock's lapse into the inability to communicate his thoughts. Metonymies in place of metaphor are evident throughout the text: even the humans who appear are emptied into parts, appearing as disembodied arms and eyes but never as whole beings. This language is a foreshadowing of Prufrock's worst fear: that of suffering a "reduction," to use Kenneth Burke's term for metonymy, which indeed happens. While Prufrock asks himself, “Do I dare/disturb the universe?” the dreaded "they" exclaim concepts like "How thin his hair is getting!" and "But how thin his arms and legs are!" - as he philosophizes on such broad and universal issues, his decaying body parts are highlighted by the omnipresent voices and eyes. The conjunction "but" suggests a rejection of the other qualities Prufrock possesses and instead a hyperfocus on his physicality: him becoming "thin" is nothing more than another reminder that