TH E N O RTO N I NTRO DUC TIO N TO

Literature
SHORTER THIRTEENTH EDITION

Kelly J. Mays
U N I V E R S I T Y O F N E VA D A , L A S V E G A S

B
W. W. N O R TO N & CO M PA N Y
N e w Yo r k , L o n d o n
6 SYMBOL AND FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE
A symbol is something that represents something ­else. Sometimes a symbol
resembles or closely relates to what it represents, but often the association is arbi-
trary or subtle. Even so, through common usage, many symbols are instantly
understood by almost everyone in a par­tic­u­lar group. Although we rarely think of
them as such, the letters of the En­glish alphabet are themselves symbols, repre-
senting different sounds. We simply learn to recognize them, however, without
thinking about whether there is any resemblance between what the symbols look
like and what they represent. In other languages, one character may stand for an
object or concept, such as the Chinese characters for “fire.” Yet some symbols do
help us by resembling what they stand for, such as the symbol for a fire alarm.

Similarly, abstractions may be represented by symbols that resemble things that

are associated with them:

Although the smiley face can simply mean “Smile!” its meanings when used as an
emoticon range from “I like this” to “Just joking.” The skull and crossbones symbol
is used on warning labels to indicate that the contents are poisonous, but it has
also been associated with death, cemeteries, and pirates.
Other symbols are more arbitrary, having no literal connection with what they
represent. Octagons and the color red have little to do with stopping a car, but

380
 SYMBOL AND FIGUR ATI VE L ANGUAGE  381

most Americans understand what a stop sign means. Such symbols, though not
based on resemblances, elicit an unconscious and reflexive response from us. The
meaning of a symbol is not always so concrete and practical, however. The U.S.
national flag is an arbitrary symbol, having no direct resemblance to what it repre-
sents, but most people recognize its primary significance; the “stars and stripes”
undoubtedly stands for the United States. Nevertheless, the flag differs from a
traffic sign in that the flag evokes much more varied, complex, and even conflict-
ing responses.

L I T E R A RY SYM B O L I S M
A symbol usually conveys an abstraction or cluster of abstractions, from the ideal
to the imperceptible or the irrational, in a more concrete form. In a literary work,
a symbol compares or puts together two things that are in some ways dissimilar.
But literary symbolism rarely comes down to a simple equation of one thing to
another. Unlike an arbitrary symbol such as a letter or traffic sign, a symbol in
literature usually carries richer and more varied meanings, as does a flag or a
religious image. And because of its significance, a symbol usually appears or is
hinted at numerous times throughout the work. In reading literature, it may be
challenging to recognize symbols, and readers may have good reasons to disagree
about their interpretation, since literary works often incorporate symbolism for
which there is no single “correct” interpretation. Reading a short story is not like a
trea­sure hunt for some shiny symbol that clearly reveals all the hidden meanings;
the complexity remains and requires further exploration even when we have recog-
nized a symbol’s significance. A literary symbol may be understood as an extended
figure of speech that rewards further interpretation. (For one fiction writer’s views
of how literary symbolism works, see the excerpt from Flannery O’Connor’s The
Nature and Aim of Fiction.)

Traditional Symbols and Archetypes

Some symbols have been in use by many people for a long time (in which case they
are known as traditional symbols); a white dove, for example, is a traditional symbol
of peace and love. A ­rose can be a symbol of godly love, of romantic desire, of female
beauty, of mortality (because the flower wilts), or of hidden cruelty (because it has
thorns). The snake has traditionally been a symbol of evil, but in Rudyard Kipling’s
The Jungle Book (1894), the python Ka, while frightening, is on the side of law and
order. A few symbolic character types, plots, objects, or settings—­for example, the
trickster, the quest, the garden—­have become so pervasive and have recurred in so
many cultures that they are considered archetypes (literary elements that recur in
the literature and myths of multiple cultures). Fire, water, a flower, or a tree can
all be considered archetypes because numerous cultures use them symbolically,
often within their systems of religion or myth. Literary symbolism frequently bor-
rows from the symbols and archetypes associated with such systems.

Allegory and Myth

A common literary form, especially in works written by and for religious believ-
ers, is the allegory, which may be regarded as an “extended” symbol or series
of ­symbols that encompasses a w
­ hole work. In an allegory, concrete things and
382 CH. 6 | SYMBOL AND FIGUR ATI VE L ANGUAGE

abstract concepts may be associated with each other across a narrative that con-
sistently maintains at least two distinct levels of meaning. Because allegories set
up series of correspondences, they usually help the reader translate these corre-
spondences through the use of names that readily function as labels, often with
obvious moral implications. In The Pilgrim’s Progress (1678), the most famous
prose allegory in En­glish, the central character is named Christian; he is born in
the City of Destruction and sets out for the Celestial City, passes through the
Slough of Despond and Vanity Fair, meets men named Pliable and Obstinate, and
so on. The point of an allegory is not to make us hunt for disguised meanings, so
it is no defect if an allegory’s intended meaning is clear. Instead, the purpose is to
let us enjoy an invented world where everything is especially meaningful and
everything corresponds to something e­ lse according to a moral or otherwise “cor-
rect” plan.
When an entire story is allegorical or symbolic, it is sometimes called a myth.
Myth originally referred to a story of communal origin providing an explanation or
religious interpretation of humanity, nature, the universe, or the relations among
them. Sometimes we apply the term myth to stories associated with religions we
do not believe in, and sometimes to literature that seeks to express experiences or
truths that transcend any one location, culture, or time.

F I G U R E S O F S PE ECH
Figures of speech, or figurative language, are similar to symbols in that they
supplement or replace literal meaning, often by creating imaginative connections
between our ideas and our senses. Sometimes referred to as tropes (literally, “turn-
ings”), figures of speech could be described as bending the usual meaning of lan-
guage and shaping our response to a work. Whether or not they have anything to
do with spatial forms or “figures,” or whether they rely on vision, such tropes
contribute to what are called the images or imagery of a story. Many figures of
speech are known by the Latin or Greek names used in classical Greek and Roman
rhetoric, the art and science of speech and persuasion.
Just as you can enjoy gymnastics or diving competitions without knowing the
names of the specific twists and turns, you can enjoy the figurative language in a
story without identifying each figure of speech. Yet for the purposes of interpret-
ing and writing about literature, it is important to learn some basic terms and
distinctions so that you have access to a shared and economical language for
describing your responses and the techniques that trigger them. The box below
defines some of the most common figures of speech.

Key Figures of Speech

allegory an extended association, often sustained in every element (char-
acter, plot, setting, ­etc.) and throughout an entire work, between two lev-
els of meaning, usually literal and abstract. In Animal Farm (1945), for
example, George Orwell uses an uprising of barnyard animals as an alle-
gory for the Bolshevik revolution in Rus­sia.
 SYMBOL AND FIGUR ATI VE L ANGUAGE  383

allusion a reference, usually brief, to another text or some person or entity

external to the work. Examples may range from a direct quotation of the
Bible to the mention of a famous name.
irony a meaning or outcome contrary to what is expected; in verbal irony,
a speaker or narrator says one thing and means the reverse. When the
intended meaning is harshly critical or mocking, it is called sarcasm. If a
teenager says, “I just love it when my mom lectures me,” she may well be
using irony.
meta­phor a repre­sen­ta­tion of one thing as if it ­were something ­else, with-
out a verbal signal such as like or as. When Scout, in To Kill a Mocking-
bird (1960), remarks that she “inched sluggishly along the treadmill of the
Maycomb County school system,” she ­doesn’t indicate what literally hap-
pened at school. She figuratively suggests how it felt by implicitly comparing
the experience to being on a treadmill.
metonymy using the name of one thing to refer to another thing associ-
ated with it. The common phrase red tape is a metonym for excessive
paperwork and procedure that slows down an official transaction, based
on the fact that such paperwork used to be tied up with red tape.
oxymoron a combination of contradictory or opposite ideas, qualities, or
entities, as in wise fool.
personification sometimes called anthropomorphism, attributing human
qualities to objects or animals. In The Open Boat, Stephen Crane per-
sonifies the birds who “sat comfortably in groups” and looked at the men
with “unblinking scrutiny.” He pushes personification to comic extreme
in the shipwrecked men’s thoughts: “If this old ninny-­woman, Fate, can-
not do better than this [. . . s]he is an old hen who knows not her inten-
tion.” ­Here, “hen” is a meta­phor for a silly woman, who in turn personifies
the idea of destiny or fate.
simile a repre­sen­ta­tion of one thing as if it ­were something ­else, with an
explicit verbal signal such as like or as. In To Kill a Mockingbird, Scout
describes a teacher who “looked and smelled like a peppermint drop” and
bored students “wriggling like a bucket of Catawba worms.”
symbol a person, place, object, or image that represents more than its lit-
eral meaning. A symbol is more than a passing comparison (such as a
simile); instead, as in allegory, its meaning usually relates to most details
and themes of the work. Unlike allegory, a symbol usually associates more
than two entities or ideas and may be obscure or ambiguous in its mean-
ing. Short stories (or poems) may refer to their central symbolic figure in
the title, as in Raymond Carver’s Cathedral.
synecdoche a form of metonymy (or name substitution) in which the part
represents the ­whole (a sail refers to a ship, wheels to a car).

I N T E R PR E T I N G SYM B O L I S M
A N D F I G U R AT IV E L A N G UAG E
The context of an entire story or poem or play can guide you in deciding how far
to push your own “translation” of a figure of speech or whether a meta­phor has the
384 CH. 6 | SYMBOL AND FIGUR ATI VE L ANGUAGE

deeper significance of a symbol. It is best to read the entire story and note all of
the figures of speech or imagery before you examine one as a symbol. Often, a
symbol is a focal point in a story, a single object or situation that draws the atten-
tion of one or more characters.
In F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby (1925), for example, a faded bill-
board featuring a pair of bespectacled eyes takes on a central and multilayered
significance, though there is no longstanding tradition of symbolic meaning for
billboards or spectacles. Although the billboard is a purely realistic detail of set-
ting (one can easily imagine seeing something like it along any highway today),
it comes to function as a symbol, too, because of the number of times and specific
ways it is discussed by the narrator and characters. When one character, George
Wilson, looks up at the looming eyes and remarks, “God sees everything,” it
becomes pretty clear what the billboard symbolizes to him. Yet when another
character immediately reminds Wilson that what he sees is only “an advertise-
ment,” we are forced to consider both what Wilson’s interpretation might tell us
about him and with what alternative or additional meanings the rest of the novel
might invest this object. The symbol remains ambiguous and complex.
Effective symbols and figurative language cannot be extracted from the story
they serve, but they can leave a lasting image of what the story is about. With
guidance and practice, identifying and interpreting literary symbolism and other
figurative language will begin to feel almost as familiar to you as reading the letter
symbols on a page, though the meanings may be subtle, ambiguous, and far-­reaching
rather than straightforward.

Responding to Symbolism: Some Guidelines

• Read the story carefully, noting any details that seem to have exceptional
significance, such as names, repeated actions or statements, recurring refer-
ences to objects, peculiar places, allusions, or other figures of speech.
• Using your list of such possibly symbolic details, look back through the story

to find the passages that feature these details. Are any of the passages con-
nected to each other in a pattern? Do any of these interconnected details
suggest themes?
• Note any symbols or images that you recognize from mythology, religion, or

any other literature, art, or pop­u­lar culture. Look again at the way the story
presents such material. What are the signals that the fire is more than a fire,
the tree is more than a tree, the ring is more than a ring? If the story invents
its own symbol, find any words in the story that show how the characters see
something meaningful in it.
• Once you have found a symbol—­ an aspect of the story that is a figure of
speech, trope, image, or connection between literal and nonliteral; is
extended beyond a few sentences; is more complicated than an allegory’s one-­
to-­one translation; and may be interpreted in multiple ways—­review every
aspect of the story, on the literal level, that relates to this symbol.
• As you write about the symbol or symbolism in a story, consider your claims

about its meaning. Try not to narrow down the possible meanings of either
the symbol or the story, but at the same time don’t make overly grand claims
 Nath a niel H awthorne The Birth-­Mark 385

for their ability to reveal the meaning of life. When in doubt, refer back to the
story and its characterization, plot, and setting.
• Remember to cite specific passages that will help your reader understand the
symbol’s significance. Your reader may suspect that you are reading too much
into it or miscasting its meanings, so this evidence is crucial to explaining your
interpretation and persuading your reader that it is reasonable.

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
(1804–64)
The Birth-­Mark
Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in Salem, Massa-
chusetts, a descendant of Puritan immigrants. Edu-
cated at Bowdoin College, he was agonizingly slow in
winning recognition for his work and supported him-
self from time to time in government service—­
working in the custom­houses of Boston and Salem
and serving as the U.S. consul in Liverpool, England. His early collections of stories,
Twice-­Told Tales (1837) and Mosses from an Old Manse (1846), did not sell well, and it
was not until the publication of his most famous novel, The Scarlet Letter (1850), that
his fame spread beyond a discerning few. His other novels include The ­House of the Seven
Gables (1851) and The Blithedale Romance (1852). Burdened by a deep sense of guilt for
his family’s role in the notorious Salem witchcraft trials over a century before he was
born (one ancestor had been a judge), Hawthorne used fiction as a means of exploring
the moral dimensions of sin and the human soul.

I n the latter part of the last century1 there lived a man of science, an eminent
proficient in every branch of natural philosophy,2 who not long before our
story opens had made experience of a spiritual affinity more attractive than
any chemical one. He had left his laboratory to the care of an assistant, cleared
his fine countenance from the furnace-­smoke, washed the stain of acids from
his fingers, and persuaded a beautiful woman to become his wife. In those
days, when the comparatively recent discovery of electricity and other kindred
mysteries of Nature seemed to open paths into the region of miracle, it was not
unusual for the love of science to rival the love of woman in its depth and
absorbing energy. The higher intellect, the imagination, the spirit, and even
the heart might all find their congenial aliment in pursuits which, as some of
their ardent votaries believed, would ascend from one step of powerful intelligence

1. That is, the eigh­teenth century; this story was first published in 1843.
2. The body of knowledge we now call science.
7 THEME
At some point, a responsive reader of any story or novel will inevitably ask, Why
does it all matter? What does it all mean? What’s the point? When we ask what a
text means, we are inquiring, at least in part, about its theme—­a general idea or
insight conveyed by the work in its entirety. Theme is certainly not the only way
fiction matters nor the only thing we take away from our experience of reading
it. Nor is theme fiction’s point in the sense of its sole “objective” or “purpose.” Yet
theme is a fictional work’s point in the sense of its “essential meaning” (or mean-
ings). And our experience of any work isn’t complete unless we grapple with the
question of its theme.
On rare occasions, we might not have to grapple hard or look far: A very few
texts, such as fables and certain fairy tales and folktales, explicitly state their
themes. To succeed, however, even these works must ultimately “earn” their themes,
bringing a raw statement to life through their characters, plot, setting, symbols,
and narration. The following fable, by Aesop, succinctly makes its point through a
brief dialogue.

AESOP
The Two Crabs

O ne fine day two crabs came out from their home to take a stroll on the
sand. “Child,” said the mother, “you are walking very ungracefully. You
should accustom yourself to walking straight forward without twisting from
side to side.”
“Pray, mother,” said the young one, “do but set the example yourself, and I
will follow you.”

“EXAMPLE IS THE BEST PRECEPT.”

•  •  •

In most literary works, all the elements work together to imply an unstated theme
that usually requires re-­reading to decipher. Even the most careful and respon-
sive readers will likely disagree about just what the theme is or how best to state it.
And each statement of a given theme will imply a slightly different view of what
matters most and why.

429
430 CH. 7 | THEME

T H E M E (S) : S I N G U L A R O R PLU R A L?
In practice, readers even disagree about the precise meaning of the term theme
itself. One source of disagreement hinges on the question of whether any single
work of fiction can convey more than one theme. On one side of the debate are
those who use the word theme to refer only to the central or main idea of a work. On
the other are those who use the term, as we generally do in this book, to refer to any
idea a work conveys. While the former readers tend to talk about the theme, the lat-
ter instead refer to a theme in order to stress that each theme is only one of many.
Regardless of whether we call all of the ideas expressed in a work themes or instead
refer to some of them as subthemes, the essential points on which all agree are that
a single literary work often expresses multiple ideas and that at least one of those
ideas is likely to be more central or overarching and inclusive than others.
The Two Crabs demonstrates that even the most simple and straightforward
of stories can convey more than one idea. This fable’s stated theme, “Example is
the best precept,” emerges only because the little crab “back talks” to its mother,
implicitly suggesting another theme: that children are sometimes wiser than their
parents or even that we sometimes learn by questioning, rather than blindly fol-
lowing, authority. The fact that crabs naturally “twist from side to side”—­that no
crab can walk straight—­certainly adds irony to the fable, but might it also imply
yet another theme?

B E S PECI F I C: T H E M E A S I D E A V E R S U S TO PI C
O R S U B J EC T
Often, you will see the term theme used very loosely to refer to a topic or subject
captured in a noun phrase—“the wisdom of youth,” “loss of innocence,” “the dan-
gers of perfectionism”—­or even a single noun—“loss,” “youth,” “grief,” or “preju-
dice.” Identifying such topics—­especially those specific enough to require a noun
phrase rather than a single noun—­can be a useful first step on the way to figuring
out a par­tic­u­lar story’s themes and also to grouping stories together for the pur-
pose of comparison.
For now, though, we urge you to consider this merely a first step on the path to
interpreting a story. The truth is, we h ­ aven’t yet said anything very insightful,
revealing, or debatable about the meaning of an individual story until we articu-
late the idea it expresses about a topic such as love, prejudice, or grief. To state a
theme in this much more restricted and helpful sense, you will need at least one
complete sentence. Note, however, that a complete sentence is still not necessarily
a statement of theme. For example, an online student essay begins with the less
than scintillating sentence, “In Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘The Birthmark’ the reader
finds several themes—­guilt, evil, love and alienation.” One reason this sentence is
both unexciting and unhelpful is that—­despite its specific list of topics—­we could
in fact substitute for The Birth-­Mark almost any other story in this book. (Try it
yourself.) Notice how much more interesting things get, however, when we instead
articulate the story’s par­tic­u­lar insight about just one of these very general topics:
“Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘The Birth-­Mark’ shows us that we too often destroy the
very thing we love by trying to turn the good into the perfect.”
 THEME  431

D O N ’ T B E TO O S PECI F I C: T H E M E A S GE N E R AL I D E A
Though a theme is specific in the sense that it is a complete idea or statement
rather than a topic, it is nonetheless a general idea rather than one that describes
the characters, plot, or settings unique to one story. Theme is a general insight
illustrated through these elements rather than an insight about any of them. Look
again at the statement above—“Nathaniel Hawthorne’s ‘The Birth-­Mark’ shows
us that we too often destroy the very thing we love by trying to turn the good into
the perfect.” Now compare this statement with one such as this: “In Nathaniel
Hawthorne’s ‘The Birth-­Mark,’ the scientist Aylmer kills his wife because he ­can’t
tolerate imperfection.” Though both statements are valid, only the first of them is
truly a statement of theme—­of what the story shows us about love through Aylmer
rather than what the story suggests about Aylmer himself.

THEME VERSUS MOR AL

In some cases, a theme may take the form of a moral—­a rule of conduct or maxim
for living. But most themes are instead general observations and insights about
how humans actually do behave, or about how life, the world, or some par­tic­u­lar
corner of it actually is, rather than moral imperatives about how people should
behave or how life should ideally be. As one contemporary critic puts it, a respon-
sive reader should thus “ask not What does this story teach? but What does this
story reveal?” By the same token, ­we’re usually on safer and more fertile ground if
we phrase a theme as a statement rather than as a command. Hawthorne’s “The
Birth-­Mark,” for example, certainly demonstrates the dangers of arrogantly seek-
ing a perfection that isn’t natural or human. As a result, we might well be tempted
to reduce its theme to a moral such as “Accept imperfection,” “Avoid arrogance,”
or “Don’t mess with Mother Nature.” None of these statements is wholly inappro-
priate to the story. Yet each of them seems to underestimate the story’s complexity
and especially its implicit emphasis on all that humanity gains, as well as loses, in
the search for perfection. As a result, a better statement of the story’s theme might
be “Paradoxically, both our drive for perfection and our inevitable imperfection
make us human.”

•  •  •

As you decipher and discuss the themes of the stories that follow, keep in mind
that to identify a theme is not to “close the case” but rather to begin a more search-
ing investigation of the details that make each story vivid and unique. Theme is an
abstraction from the story; the story and its details do not disappear or lose signifi-
cance once distilled into theme, nor could you reconstruct a story merely from a
statement of its theme. Indeed, theme and story are fused, inseparable. Or, as
Flannery O’Connor puts it, “You tell a story because a statement [alone] would be
inadequate” (see Writing Short Stories in ch. 8). Often difficult to put into words,
themes are nonetheless the essential common ground that helps you care about a
story and relate it to your own life—­even though it seems to be about lives and
experiences very different from your own.
432 CH. 7 | THEME

Tips for Identifying Themes

Because theme emerges from a work in its entirety and from all the other
elements working together, there is no “one-­size-­fits-­all” method for identi-
fying theme. ­Here, however, are some things to look for and consider as you
read and re-­read the work.

TIP EXAMPLE

1. Pay attention to the title. A title will What might Bharati Mukherjee’s “The
seldom spell out in full a work’s main Management of Grief,” suggest about
theme, but some titles do suggest a whether and how grief can be “managed”?
central topic or topics or a clue to
theme. Probe the rest of the story to
see what, if any, insights about that
topic it ultimately seems to offer.

2. List any recurring phrases and words, Versions of the word blind occur six
especially those for abstract concepts times in the relatively short first para-
(e.g., love, honor). Certain concrete graph of Raymond Carver’s “Cathedral,”
terms (especially if noted in the title) and the word recurs throughout the
may likewise provide clues; objects of story. What different kinds of blindness
value or potency might attract signifi- does the story depict? What truth or
cant attention in the text (an heirloom, insight about blindness might it ulti-
a weapon, a tree in a garden). Then mately offer?
probe the story to see how and where
­else it might implicitly deal with that
concept or entity and what, if any, con-
clusions the story proposes.

3. Identify any statements that the char- In A. S. Byatt’s “The Thing in the Forest,”
acters or narrator(s) make about a gen- one of the two protagonists observes,
eral concept, issue, or topic such as “I think there are things that are real—­
human nature, the natural world, and more real than we are—­but mostly we
so on. Look, too, for statements that don’t cross their paths, or they don’t
potentially have a general meaning or cross ours. Maybe at very bad times we
application beyond the story, even if get into their world, or notice what they
they refer to a specific situation in it. are doing in ours” (par. 55). How does the
Then consider whether and how the rest of the story both flesh out what these
story as a ­whole corroborates, over- “things” might be and either corroborate
turns, or complicates any one such or complicate this character’s generaliza-
view or statement. tion about them?

4. If a character changes over the course The end of “The Thing in the Forest”
of the story, articulate the truth or implies that one of its protagonists has
insight that he or she seems to dis- come to believe that even the most fan-
cover. Then consider whether and how tastic stories have an important function
the story as a ­whole corroborates or in real life. What is that function? Does
complicates that insight. the story as a ­whole confirm her
conclusions?
 Stephen Cr a ne The Open Boat 433

TIP EXAMPLE

5. Identify a conflict depicted in the work Through Sarty, William Faulkner’s “Barn
and state it in general terms or turn it Burning” raises the question of how we
into a general question, leaving out any should reconcile loyalty to our family
reference to specific characters, situa- with our own individual sense of right
tions, and so on. Then think about the and wrong. In the end, the story implies
insight or theme that might be implied that following our own moral code can
by the way the conflict is resolved. sometimes be the more painful, as well
as the more noble, option.

STEPHEN CR ANE
(1871–1900)
The Open Boat
One of fourteen children, Stephen Crane and his
family moved frequently before settling, after his
father’s death in 1880, in Asbury Park, New Jersey.
Crane sporadically attended various preparatory
schools and colleges without excelling at much besides
baseball. Determined to be a journalist, he left school
for good in 1891 and began contributing to New York newspapers. His city experiences
led him to write Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, a realist social-­reform novel published in
1893 at his own expense. His next novel, The Red Badge of Courage (1895), presented a
stark picture of the Civil War and brought him widespread fame. Many of his stories
­were published in the collections The Open Boat and Other Tales of Adventure (1898)
and The Monster and Other Stories (1899). Crane served as a foreign correspondent,
reporting on conflicts in Cuba and Greece, and lived his last years abroad, dying of
tuberculosis at the age of twenty-eight.

A Tale Intended to Be after the Fact:1 Being the Experience

of Four Men from the Sunk Steamer Commodore

I
None of them knew the color of the sky. Their eyes glanced level and ­were fas-
tened upon the waves that swept toward them. These waves ­were of the hue of
slate, save for the tops, which ­were of foaming white, and all of the men knew
the colors of the sea. The horizon narrowed and widened, and dipped and r­ ose,

1. Crane had an experience very like the one ­here re-­created in fiction. His autobiographical account
of his adventure at sea appeared in the New York Press on January 7, 1897.