A Profound but Useless Sort of Hate
An interesting and quite effective simile is engaged to describe the disconnect between hating someone with absolute power over you…someone like a slaveowner. Though the comparison could certainly be just as apt in a number of other circumstances, thus revealing the full effect of its efficient power:
“…she hated the Master and Mistress with a full heart. But it was a useless hate, like a raindrop hatin a tornado”
Clora's Narration
The narration is in the first person, by a woman born into slavery who took her education where she could get it. As a result, some of the figurative language seems out of sync at times; repetitious and markedly the work of a woman who can clearly see what she wants to say, but is dealing with limitations of vocabulary beyond her control:
“The trees looked mean and broodin. The yard was like a empty, dead desert full of death.”
Truth
Clora spends quite a bit of time pondering over the subject of truth. While it seems as if she is reconciled to truth being a relative term within the world of slavery, ultimately she decides that it is the only light shining into that darkness and therefore must be trusted:
“Well, truth is the light. Right or wrong.”
Time
In addition to truth, Clora is philosophical about time. She is wise beyond what anyone might expect from her considering her situation and shows a real penchant of figurative thinking, even if she is sometimes limited by vocabulary:
“They call time a old man. But time don’t age, ain’t old. Every day is new.”
Emancipation and Abolition
Clora’s daughter rebels against the mistress of the house when the news of freedom for slaves begins to arrive and her unspoken thoughts are framed with metaphorical language that leaves no room for ambiguity or doubt about her literal intentions:
“She listened to the air which was a lite with the buzzin sound of freedom spoken, over and over.”
