Seeing Double Here
First, let it be understood that this novel has some quirky bits to it. It is a little experimental—but not so much it cannot be understood—and that experimentation is typically delivered in, well, quirky ways. Such as these two metaphor-rich sentences which follow right after the other:
“Memory is a winding lane and as she went up it, waving them to follow, the first bend in it hid her from them and she was left to pick her flowers alone. Memory is a winding lane with high banks on which flowers grow and here she wandered in a nostalgic summer evening in deep soundlessness.”
Metaphor on Top of Metaphor
Two more sentences follow after the above and then there is a paragraph break. The opening lines of the succeeding paragraph would be enough to qualify as dense in figurative language, but the thick use of metaphor and simile continues through another paragraph that is more than twice as long:
“Night was coming up and it came out of the sea. Over harbors, up the river, by factories, bringing lights in windows and lamps on the streets until it met this fog where it lay and poured more darkness in.”
Miscommunication as Communication
If the novel is about anything in particular, it is about fun with language. The author has termed his style “nonrepresentational” and that is presents a world where miscommunication is communication. With that in mind, good luck to all who try to figure out what exactly is going on here:
“She thought he looked terrific, but when she had taken in Amabel's new looks and her brilliant eyes, she thought she was most like a cat that has just had its mouse coming among other cats who had only had the smell.”
The Pattern
The astute reader will likely have noticed a pattern developing by now. This is a novel that is truly rich—abundantly wealthy (like an uber-rich superhero)—in metaphor. In terms of actual, easily intuited meaning…not so much. And don’t for a moment think that it is because these examples are being taken out of context. In most cases, there actually is no context:
“As for Miss Fellowes, she was fighting. Lying inanimate where they had laid her she waged war with storms of darkness which rolled up over her in a series, like tides summoned by a moon. What made her fight was the one thought that she must not be ill in front of these young people.”
The Perfect Metaphor
Ironically enough, the perfect metaphor in the book to describe the style and technique of the book is also one of those rare examples of a metaphor that is perfectly understandable and almost impossible to confuse.
“These lights would come like thoughts in darkness, in a stream; a flash and then each was away.”
