Front Porch as Gallery Seat (Metaphor)
Hurston grew up in the all-Black community of Eatonville, Florida until she was thirteen. White Northern tourists traveled through the small town, and Hurston took full advantage of the situation to transform their appearance into a dramatic production. Hurston writes: "The front porch might seem a daring place for the rest of the town, but it was a gallery seat for me. My favorite place was atop the gatepost. Proscenium box for a born first-nighter." In this metaphor, Hurston playfully contrasts the reticence of her neighbors watching the tourists pass from the "gallery seat" of the porch with her own eagerness to sit as close as possible to the figurative stage.
A Dark Rock Surged Upon (Metaphor)
When discussing her experience of feeling racialized on the campus of Barnard College, Hurston writes that "among the thousand white persons, I am a dark rock surged upon, and overswept, but through it all, I remain myself. When covered by the waters, I am; and the ebb but reveals me again." In this metaphor, Hurston uses figurative language to speak of herself as a lone dark rock in a white-water river. The metaphor emphasizes the striking contrast she feels as a Black person in majority-white spaces like a Manhattan college campus.
Pulse Throbbing Like a War Drum (Simile)
When Hurston details her experience at the jazz club, the expressive music stirs up her emotions and makes her "dance wildly" inside herself. She speaks of the musicians and her being transported into "the jungle," likely engaging with a white stereotype in a knowingly tongue-in-cheek way to refer to a shared African heritage. Hurston writes that her "pulse is throbbing like a war drum." In this simile, Hurston continues to emphasize how jazz music evokes a deeply rooted physiological response in her body, comparing her rhythmic pulse to a tribal war drum.
