Another Country: Similes 8 key examples

The simile in Baldwin’s description here compares the buildings to phalluses and spears. This immediately frames them as representations of dominance and aggression. These architectural forms reinforce patriarchal power and White supremacy, as the towering “phalluses” and weapons make humans seem comparatively tiny. From his perspective on the pavement, Rufus also views the buildings as instruments of control. He knows that important decisions and powerful financial operations are occurring behind their imposing walls and also knows that he has no way into that world. Baldwin’s choice to describe the towers as being either “blunt” or “sharp” reveals that Rufus sees them as tools of enforcement or of destruction. The skyscrapers are objects with a purpose, and that purpose is aggressive and relentless. The nighttime setting amplifies the sense of power these buildings represent. They create an atmosphere of surveillance, as though they are “guarding” what lurks inside.

The idiom “the city which never slept” is usually used in a light-hearted way to reflect the business and vivacity of New York’s constant, humming energy. However, here it makes the city seem even more oppressive. Baldwin shows that, for men like Rufus, New York’s “sleeplessness” also means that it’s impossible to find any rest or peace while they are there. There’s no reprieve from the watchful eyes of the unlit towers or what their presence stands for.

The simile Baldwin employs here compares Leona to a prey animal and casts Rufus as the predator who is considering his next move. Leona seems to be sizing up her ability to escape, "watching the door as though her life depended on it." At the same time, she's drawn to Rufus and isn't sure whether or not she wants to go, making "little rushes" back and forth. As he watches her, she hesitates between moving toward Rufus’s “outstretched hand” and pulling away. It’s as if he is offering her food, but she’s not sure whether it’s a trap or a real act of invitation. The “halting” nervousness of her “manner” pleases Rufus, as he’s able to confirm her discomfort and vulnerability before the two have interacted much at all.

Leona’s body is all white, here; she is a White woman, but Rufus sees her as almost supernaturally white, “milk-white” and “alabaster.” This isn’t the whiteness of her Caucasian skin tone, it’s a symbolic Whiteness which differentiates her from Rufus’s Blackness. Rufus’s fury with the inequalities of his world gets tangled up with his sexual urges in this scene. As he has sex with Leona he enjoys the fact that she begins to cry and that her “brow [is] wet” with sweat. He isn’t making love to her, he is “beat[ing] her with all the strength he ha[s].” He takes out his anger and frustration with Whiteness in general on Leona’s particular Whiteness.

This idea overcomes him so intensely that he treats his penis as a weapon to kill her with here; when he ejaculates he feels he is filling her with his “venom.” Rufus’s sexual violence is a retaliation against the violence he feels the world has inflicted on him. Although Leona—in this first instance—seems to consent to and even enjoy its intensity, he “curses” her as though he is forcing himself on her. He imagines that he is taking revenge against Whiteness writ large as he uses "his weapon between her thighs."

The line of song that the author includes here appears in italics and without context, as though it’s drifting through the silence between Rufus, Vivaldo, and Jane. It’s initially uncertain whether it’s in Rufus’s mind or whether everyone present is hearing it, but it becomes clear later that he’s imagining it. It recurs a few times in the first two chapters of the novel, and the allusion is always connected to the idea of Rufus being trapped in a situation with no clear way out. Sitting in this bar with a White couple, Rufus suddenly feels distinctly out of place but unable to leave politely.

The simile that follows compares the empty seats Cass and Richard have left to a “chasm,” which highlights the distance between Rufus, Jane, and Vivaldo. The emptiness of the seats is a visual manifestation of the distance between Rufus “and the white boy and the white girl." It's a small "chasm," but a chasm nonetheless.

This is a grim section of the novel, as Rufus stands despondently staring at the sky and the Hudson River. By this point his suffering has left him feeling utterly hopeless. In order to make the reader understand this, Baldwin appeals to their sense of pathos. When an author does this, they describe a situation or event which causes the reader to have an emotional response with a predictable result. Here it’s pity, as the reader “hears” Rufus's desperate cry to God, desperately asking why he is ignored despite his suffering. Baldwin also evokes the reader’s sympathy by reminding them that Rufus sees himself as one of God’s abandoned children, when he piteously asks “ain’t I your baby, too?” Rufus’s identification with the black water of the river in the final line suggests a bleak unity between his identity and the world around him. He sees his life as a Black New Yorker experiencing homelessness as being as “black” as the river. Both his identity and the river are colored and burdened by forces beyond his control. 

The simile here compares Rufus to a “rag doll” as the invisible force of misery shakes and tumbles him. The violence of his despair disturbs and rocks him, as though he’s utterly boneless and powerless. It’s almost as though he has already jumped into the water, as the salt of his tears “splashe[s]” him painfully and threatens to choke him.

In this passage, Eric and Yves have just gotten into bed together, and Eric is trying to make sense of the rush of feelings he's experiencing. The moonlight, which streams in through the window and illuminates every centimeter of the scene, is so bright that it seems "violent," almost as though it had a malicious will of its own. Because Eric is nervous about what's about to happen, the lack of darkness to hide in feels aggressive and exciting. He only has his brief and little-discussed encounter with LeRoy to compare this moment with Yves to.  

When he reaches down and feels Yves's penis, the narrator describes it as "dominating" the "landscape" of his life, in the same way that the cathedral towers of the town they are staying in "dominate" the flat plains around them. With Yves, Eric feels something he has never felt before. The hyperbole in this simile emphasizes this, as Yves's presence—and the sexual chemistry between them—seem bigger and more important than anything else Eric has experienced. Of course, Yves's erection is not really the size of a cathedral, but to Eric it feels almost as sacred and important.

The visual and auditory imagery of the cottage here all invokes the lazy, heat-soaked atmosphere of a garden in the summer.  The “brilliant heat” of the sun beating down on Eric and droning and “booming” of insects make the garden seem very still, which is in stark contrast to the “thunderous” movement and power of the Mediterranean Sea. Eric is staying very still as he watches Yves, as though he can keep him safe by remaining motionless. The space of the garden itself appears peaceful enough for the kitten to play make-believe games, yet the ocean’s roar acts as a reminder of potential danger for Yves.

Vivaldo’s simile comparing the sky to a “vast and friendly ocean” shows how hopeful and comfortable the company of his friends makes him feel. He perceives the usual limits of his world as softening, which makes him wonder about countries and places beyond his life in Manhattan. The sea around Manhattan island is a limiting factor for travel on foot, but Vivaldo suddenly sees the sky as being navigable and the stars as friendly guiding lights. Indeed, the world is so welcoming that he feels he couldn’t be hurt if he tried, that “drowning was forbidden.” This sudden and unexpected cosmic guidance shows how his mood affects his perspective—where once he felt trapped, he can now imagine a future filled with potential.