The dust of miniature diamonds hanging in the air
The writer uses a simile to bring out the appearance of the fine dust of small diamonds hanging in the air after the rain stops. The appearance of this dust is compared to the tiny crumbs from a giant table cloth. The writer notes: “The rain stops, and for a moment a fine dust of miniature diamonds hangs in the air, like tiny crumbs from an enormous tablecloth bluely shaken on high.” The simile thus enhances the reader’s perception of the size of the diamond dust.
Like a murky pond surrounded by flowers
The idea of being attacked by “a sleepiness of [the] conscious attention” is emphasized by the narrator using a simile. The narrator associates the feeling with being goldenly stagnate in the sun and compares this to a murky pond bounded by flowers. The writer notes: “To goldenly stagnate in the sun, like a murky pond surrounded by flowers.” The description thus enhances imagery.
Freedom
The idea of freedom and autonomy is evoked in the reader by the narrator through the use of a simile. In particular, the narrator notes: “To be in the whirl of the worlds like the dust of flowers, sailing through the afternoon air on an unknown wind and falling…” The idea of being in the whirl of the worlds like dust alludes to freedom and allowing the world to take over, surrendering to fate. It also emphasizes the narrator’s concept of “a sleepiness of our conscious attention” that mostly attacks him.
The glow of intelligence in the narrator’s dreams
The narrator brings to the reader’s attention how the only genuine, real and substantial conversations are the one’s he has in his dreams. In the dreams, the concept of intelligence is said to gleam as if it were a mirror. The narrator notes: “… only the conversations I have in my dreams, are genuinely real and substantial, and in them, intelligence gleams like an image in a mirror.” While the simile enhances imagery, it also alludes to the glamor associated with intelligence in the narrator’s dreams.
Captivity
The narrator, while thinking about how his life had been, develops the feeling of being like an animal. His helplessness is brought out through the use of a simile in which he compares attempts to break free of the confines of the buckets to the rising of the tired wings of a butterfly. As a result of the firm grip of the person holding the baskets in which the narrator is caged, he can do nothing but slightly raise the lid: “But the arm […] rests a bit on the hinges in the middle, won’t allow such a weak thing to do more than slightly and uselessly raise the lids, like tired wings of a butterfly.” His weakness in these circumstances is made explicit.
