At the Vernal Conclave in Chapter 14, Rowan intentionally fails Scythe Curie's initiation question so as not to separate himself and Citra. This causes Scythe Rand to take issue with Faraday having two apprentices who collude with one another. Rand proposes that one of them must glean the other once they become a scythe. The narrator describes Citra's feelings about this unenviable situation using a simile:
“What is your proposal, Scythe Rand?” asked Xenocrates.
“I object!” shouted Faraday.
“You can’t object to something she has not yet said!”
Faraday bit down his objection, and waited. Citra watched, feeling almost detached, as if this were a tennis match and it was match point. But she wasn’t an observer, was she? She was the ball. And so was Rowan.
“I propose,” said Scythe Rand, with the slickness of a deathstalker scorpion, “that upon the confirmation of the winner, the first order of business will be for that winner to glean the loser.”
Citra feels as though she watches a tennis match, but quickly realizes that "she was the ball. And so was Rowan." This uses a common metaphorical idea, comparing an argument to a tennis match, going back and forth. But in the ironic style of the novel's narrator, Citra and Rowan become the ball in that tennis match. This rather ridiculous image emphasizes the apprentices' position as pawns in the larger conflict between the disagreeing factions in the Conclave.
Note that sport remains an important part of the post-mortal world; it is one of the relatively few parts of human culture before the Thunderhead that appear to remain intact. Citra notes earlier in the novel that she played tennis herself, so this metaphor may be especially relevant to her own experience.
After a big party at Scythe Goddard's mansion in Chapter 21, he and his assistants turn off Rowan's pain nanites and beat him savagely. They leave his healing nanites on—without them they would have beaten him nearly to death. The scythes call this practice being "jumped in." Rowan recovers, still without pain nanites, an excruciating process. He seems to have been punched in the mouth particularly badly because his lips are still "split and swollen." He describes his pain using a simile:
Scythe Volta visited him several times a day. He sat with Rowan, spoon-feeding him soup, and blotting where it spilled from his split, swollen lips. [...] “It burns,” he told Volta as the salty soup spilled over his lips. “It does for now,” Volta told him with genuine compassion. “But it will pass, and you’ll be better for it.” “How could I be better for any of this?” he asked, horrified at how distorted and liquid his words sounded, as if he were speaking through the blowhole of a whale.
As Rowan tries to eat and speak, the pain in his mouth and lips feels "as if he were speaking through the blowhole of a whale." This simile is complex and has multiple interpretations. For one, Shusterman uses this figurative language to focus on Rowan's lips. This is because the lips are a particularly important body part to the Scythedom, as people must kiss a scythe's ring to gain immunity. Thus the extreme pain on his lips is an ironic reversal of the usual association of the lips with immunity in the novel. Perhaps Scythes Chomsky and Rand beat Rowan especially brutally on his face as an intentional mockery of his pain.
Another important interpretation of the simile is the narrator's comparison of Rowan to an animal. The life and safety of animals forms an important counterpoint to the world-building in the novel. While human beings have made medical advances that allow them to live forever, this privilege has seemingly been extended to no animals other than humans. The development of immortality separates people from animals in the novel, delineating humans as a special group that no longer has to die like all other beings. As a result, when Shusterman's figurative language compares Rowan to an animal, the imagery is especially potent. With his pain nanites turned off, Rowan must experience bodily pain and risk death again, like an animal. Such comparisons to animals happen throughout the novel in order to show moments when the medical advances of the post-mortal world in fact cannot prevent all possible suffering. Human beings privileged themselves in creating the post-mortal world, but language like this reminds the reader that these seemingly immortal people are still creatures at risk of pain and death.
Before the Harvest Conclave in Chapter 27, Citra is excited to tell Rowan about her research into Faraday's alleged "murder." But Scythe Curie reminds Citra that bad scythes are usually those who seek notoriety. Curie criticizes Goddard as someone who seeks to "ensnare the world" and warns Citra that Goddard's ways have likely rubbed off on Rowan. Curie describes this nefarious influence with a simile:
"You see, there are some who seek celebrity to change the world, and others who seek it to ensnare the world. Goddard is of the second kind.” And then she said something that guaranteed Citra many a sleepless night.
“I wouldn’t trust your friend Rowan anymore. Goddard is as corrosive as acid hurled in the eye. The kindest thing you can do is win that ring when Winter Conclave comes, and glean the boy quickly, before that acid burns any deeper than it already has.”
This quite graphic simile emphasizes just how evil Goddard is in Curie's view. It might have sufficed to say Goddard is "corrosive as acid." But the simile specifies "in the eye," which evokes the cruel and unusual gleaning methods that Goddard and his team prefer. (Note that it is also these practices that Curie criticizes.)
The simile's focus on the eye also reflects how Goddard often uses showman tactics to gain attention in the novel. Goddard plays up an evil character for the public, so it is appropriate that Curie should describe his acid entering the eye. In contrast, though, the eye in the simile also draws attention to Goddard's penchant for secrecy in his true plans and attentions. In her research with the Thunderhead, Citra attempts to use cameras, another kind of eye, to see what Goddard really did to Faraday. As such, the simile's specific focus on the eye also elaborates Goddard's character in multiple ways.
At one of Goddard's lavish parties in Chapter 28, High Blade Xenocrates arrives as a surprise guest. At one point in the party, Xenocrates suddenly jumps in the water. Rowan overhears Goddard forcing Xenocrates to do so, while holding Esme at knifepoint, threatening to glean her on the spot. Xenocrates nearly drowns under the weight of his gold-encrusted cape, but Tyger leaps into the water to save him. As Xenocrates emerges from the water without his usual cloak, he looks much the worse for wear, which the narrator describes in a simile, comparing him to fish:
Now he didn’t look much like a High Blade—he was just a fat man in wet, golden underwear. “I guess I must have lost my balance,” he said, trying to be jovial about it and attempting to put a new spin on what had happened. [...] Chomsky had arrived at the scene, and he and Volta reached down from the pool’s edge to haul Xenocrates out of the water. It was as humiliating as could be for the man. He looked like an overstuffed net of fish being hauled onto the deck of a trawler.
The narrator ruefully observes that Xenocrates looked like "an oversized net of fish." Note that the narrator compares Xenocrates to small, relatively insignificant animals that are about to die for human benefit. This is quite the degrading description for someone with Xenocrates's lofty position. Goddard told Xenocrates to jump in the water or else Goddard would reveal that Xenocrates secretly fathered Esme, which is illegal under the Scythe Commandments. After Xenocrates accepts the blackmail and jumps in the water, he appears as merely a sack of animal life. This image emphasizes how many of the natural, animalistic facts of being human are removed by the Scythedom. Xenocrates's transgression was having a child, a very natural thing. In much the same way, when he jumps in the pool, he reveals himself to be only natural, a sack of fish—just as he reveals himself to have followed the natural process of having a child.
This simile is part of a larger theme in the novel, in which Shusterman investigates how the medical and technological advances of the post-mortal world change humanity's relationship to the natural world. By achieving immortality, human beings separate themselves from animals and other life, making themselves fundamentally unnatural. But the characters in the novel sometimes revert to more natural states. Shusterman uses images of animals, like the one above, in a variety of ways to show that even in the post-mortal age, at their core, humans are still natural beings who are, after all, animals themselves.
In Chapter 36, Rowan accompanies Scythe Goddard and his crew to a Tonist cloister for a mass gleaning. Goddard and his crew kill indiscriminately, with no regard for the usual ratios of ethnicities or to the yearly gleaning quota. In a fit of righteous rage for this unchecked murder, Rowan kills Goddard and Rand before moving on to Chomsky. Rowan attacks violently and decisively, which the narrator describes using a simile, alluding to Norse mythology:
Chomsky set Rowan’s arm ablaze with the flamethrower, but Rowan rolled on the ground, putting it out, then grabbed the toning mallet from beside the altar and brought it down on Chomsky like the hammer of Thor, striking again and again and again as if he were toning the hour, until the curate grabbed his hand to stop him and said, “That’s enough, son. He’s dead.”
Rowan beats Chomsky with the "toning mallet" "like the hammer of Thor." This simile alludes to the Mjolnir, the hammer of the Norse thunder god Thor. One of Thor's most important qualities, as described in the mythology, is his complete, unrelenting slaughter of his foes. Here Rowan, like Thor, seems totally committed to beating Chomsky to death and beyond. He beats him repetitively, again as Thor would, so much that it is "as if he were toning the hour." This toning of the hour was one of the practices of the Tonist cult. As such, in his attack on Chomsky, Rowan emulates both Thor's hammer and the practices of the Tonists. Rowan attacks Chomsky with a force that is divine in its strength and intention—both the mortal-age divinity of Thor and the post-mortal divinity of the Tonists.