Stella uses hyperbole when she greets Stella for the first time, distracting her sister from looking at her too closely with an anxious, flapping fuss over the quality of the light in the Kowalski's apartment.
BLANCHE: Now then, let me look at you. But don’t you look at me, Stella, no, no, no, not till I’ve bathed and rested, and turn that over-light off! Turn that off! I won’t be looked at in that merciless glare!
This odd moment highlights Blanche's insecurities, which are central to her personality, and her desire to control how others perceive her. Blanche’s response to seeing her sister is full of anxiety. She barely lets Stella get a word in, instead talking over her immediately. Her description of the light as "merciless glare" is hyperbolic, but the exaggeration points to her discomfort and insecurity about her appearance. Blanche fears the revealing nature of bright light, because Stella does not yet know anything about the ruin that Stella and the family finances have come to. Blanche wants to delay the moment as long as possible, which includes keeping Stella literally and metaphorically in the dark.
Blanche's use of commands—"let me look at you," "don’t you look at me," "turn that over-light off!"—also illustrate her need to control the situation. Although she’s in Stella’s territory, this authoritative language indicates her desperation to manage how others see her, including her sister. As she repeats "no, no, no,” trying to make Stella laugh, she also only drives home how panicked she feels. She’s attempting to be light and breezy, but her rush of words actually just reveals how nervous she truly is about what’s to come.
In this passage from Scene 1 of the play, Blanche uses an allusion and hyperbole to express her disdain for Stella's dingy New Orleans apartment. After her arduous journey on the streetcars of Now Orleans, when she sees Stella for the first time she exclaims:
BLANCHE: Only Poe! Only Mr. Edgar Allan Poe!—could do it justice! Out there I suppose is the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir!"
Blanche is being extremely rude here, alluding to Edgar Allen Poe's "Ulalume" to imply her sister's apartment is macabre and decaying. “Ulalume” is a poem about a man who wanders into the tomb of his dead lover in the unpleasant and “ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.” It’s full of imagery of hopelessness and rotting, so it’s no wonder that Stella seems shocked by Blanche's comment. By saying that "only Poe" could accurately describe Stella’s apartment, Blanche is implying that her home in New Orleans is so grim and horrible that it’s like a Gothic horror poem.
Blanche’s hyperbolic claim that only Poe could do justice to the grimness of the apartment is a clear overstatement. The apartment, though it’s modest, is not actually nearly as grim or as dreadful as Blanche suggests. Her response to it is based far more on the distance between her expectations for Stella and the reality of her sister’s life in New Orleans. Even though Blanche’s own life is hardly as glamorous as she would like to imply, she’s shocked enough by Stella’s standard of living that she forgets to be polite.
Stanley's suspicion of Blanche’s past foreshadows his obsessive rooting-out of all she is hiding. When she arrives in New Orleans, he goes through her suitcase, showing jewels and furs to Stella and yelling hyperbolically:
STANLEY: I've got an acquaintance who deals in this sort of merchandise. I'll have him check on it...Here’s your plantation, or what’s left of it, here!
When Stanley declares that he's holding "what's left of" Stella's "plantation," he means that he believes the dresses and furs inside Blanche's suitcase are proof she has been cheating him and Stella out of money from selling Belle Reve. When he sees all of Stella's rich, brightly colored silks and jewels, Stanley immediately assumes that they must be worth a lot of money. As soon as he sees her furs, he's completely convinced she's stolen all the profits he believes selling Belle Reve must have made. Of course, it's impossible that a few dresses and furs would be worth as much as a house and its property, but Stanley is angry enough to exaggerate as he screams at his wife. Stanley also can't tell real jewels and silks from costume tiaras and nylon.
Despite this, his explosive anger when he sees Stella's possessions and his willingness to involve his community in exposing her foreshadow his obsessive suspicion of Blanche's motives. Even though Stanley isn't sure of the value of the clothes and jewels himself, he's willing to share his suspicions about his wife's sister with "an acquaintance" immediately. He goes from calmly questioning Stella to shouting almost immediately in this scene, which also foreshadows his explosive anger. His shouting is accompanied by throwing the contents of the suitcase all over the floor and into Stella's face. His violent, highly physical anger even extends to his interactions with clothes.
Blanche’s impassioned, exaggerated plea to Stella not to stoop to Stanley’s level uses metaphors and hyperbole to drive her point across. As part of her tirade against Stanley and his “kind,” Blanche cries:
BLANCHE: In some kinds of people some tenderer feelings have had some little beginning! That we have got to make grow! And cling to, and hold as our flag! In this dark march toward whatever it is we’re approaching...Don’t—don’t hang back with the brutes!
Blanche’s metaphorical language in this passage paints the struggle of romantic, aristocratic Southerners against the tide of modernity as a “march.” This, like many other moments in the play, suggests that Blanche feels she’s being dragged forward unwillingly into the future. Rather than capitulating to modernity, she urges her sister to hold onto the values she believes are important.
Calling the passing of time a “dark march toward whatever it is [they’re] approaching” suggests that Blanche pictures her life as a journey filled with challenges and obscured visibility. Because Blanche has no plans and no idea what her future holds, compared to Stella she is moving forward in figurative blindness to what lies ahead. Her language here is highly exaggerated, as is her plea for her sister not to “hang back with the brutes.” By “brutes,” she means people like Stanley. She seems unaware of how alike Stella and her husband truly are.
Blanche also asserts that as “people [in whom] some tenderer feelings have had some little beginning,” she and Stella must nurture them “as our flag.” This is a confusing mixed metaphor, which aligns with Blanche's tenuous grip on her sanity. Blanche is demanding that she and Stella hold onto the romantic ideals they grew up with, however unrealistic, and nurture them like growing a plant. She then changes the idea she’s using to suggest that these values should be of paramount importance to them, like a “flag” they follow. Blanche dreams of letting the “tenderer” things in life guide her and her sister like a banner in battle. Stella implores Blanche to cling to these finer feelings, not to allow them to die off.