Cereus Blooms at Night Metaphors and Similes

Cereus Blooms at Night Metaphors and Similes

Decay: Time Passing

Decay is omnipresent in the novel. So it follows that metaphorical imagery would be pervasive as well. What is most notable is that odors foul and fair and not distinguished in terms of overpowering sensory effects, but rather afford multiple opportunities for figurative language to raise them to higher levels of meaning:

“Every few days, a smell of decay permeated the house. It was the smell of time itself passing”

Darkness

Darkness rarely goes unused as metaphor in modern fiction. And by modern, we’re taking roughly since Charles Dickens stopped composing. It has been the metaphor of our age since before the turn of the 20th century. And the go-to value of darkness for its rich metaphorical resonance shows little signs of slowing down:

“The air close to the ground bristled with the natural fragrance released in the blackest period of night. The aroma of grapefruit, lime and orange trees lay like a fringe on the edge of the darkness.”

Decay: Immortality

Again: decay and rot is imagery referenced multiple times in the text. But not in a repetitive and redundant way. The author finds ways of coming back to the imagery to present it within the context of new perspectives:

“The scent of decay was not offensive to her. It was the aroma of life refusing to end. It was the aroma of transformation. Such odor was proof that nothing truly ended”

Action Simile!

Similes are not generally thought of as a literary tool designed to enhance description of action or movement. Typically, the writer engages the comparative device for a static descriptive purpose. That does not mean that it cannot be used effectively to intensify a more kinetic piece of prose:

“Aunt Lavinia backed down the stairs in haste. He saw Pohpoh and ran past her. She turned to watch him but the sun had caught on the jagged edge of the porch’s iron roof and the spot dazzled like a blinding star.”

Metaphor Overload

As clearly demonstrated, this is a book in which metaphorical language plays a substantive role in conveying information. It is also a book in which sensory information is provided that often reaches extreme levels of intensity not even touched upon here. The intensity becomes so overwhelming that very often characters are driven to their limits of literal discourse and must dive headlong into the waters of figurative imagery:

“Whenever I caught sight of my own reflection what I saw was my own face watching me, mocking me, and shaking its head in disgust with my performance in the entire Ramchandin affair. I slept to avoid the nausea that seemed to sour my insides and the weight of defeat crushing my heart whenever I thought of my inaction.”

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