When Willie and his team visit his family home outside Mason City, Lucy makes dinner for Willie, Old Man Stark, and the other guests. She is very pleased to be able to feed everyone, as Jack describes in a simile:
The jaws got to work around the table, and she watched them work. [...] Her face seemed to smooth itself out and relax with an inner faith in happiness the way the face of the chief engineer does when he goes down to the engine room at night and the big wheel is blurred out with its speed and the pistons plunge and return and the big steel throws are leaping in their perfect orbits like a ballet, and the whole place, under the electric glare, hums and glitters and sings like the eternal insides of God's head, and the ship is knocking off twenty-two knots on a glassy, starlit sea.
Lucy is like a sea captain watching the engine room of a well-run ship. One purpose of this simile is plain aesthetic beauty: Jack's imagination runs wild as he imagines the happily eating men around him as pistons in a ship, which is itself imagined as God's mind, as the ship chugs along on a picturesque imaginary sea. During this scene in a somewhat dilapidated home in rural Louisiana, Jack's simile instantaneously conjures an entirely different environment, to beautiful effect. The extreme difference of the description in the simile from the actual scene at hand also shows how strongly Lucy enjoys this moment.
This simile also helps to describe Lucy's character, which is rarely investigated in much depth in the novel. She enjoys seeing those around her happy and fed. She sees a well-stocked dinner table as the highest goal in life, and yet she clearly is able to achieve this goal fairly regularly. She has an "inner faith in happiness," and seems fulfilled and without any apparent desire for social climbing. Thus the character of Lucy contrasts both with her husband, with his undying ambition, and with Jack, with his tendency toward nihilism and depression.
During the visit to the Stark home in Chapter 1, Jack imagines Lucy and Willie's father, years before, spending time together soon after Willie and Lucy were married. The father- and daughter-in-law have a special affection for each other and often sit in amicable silence together, "a world of wordless silence by the fire, a world which would absorb effortlessly and perfectly the movements of their day and their occupations." Jack explains why the two are especially friendly:
They had something in common, Old Man Stark and Lucy Stark, who had loved and married Willie Stark, the Willie Stark who at that moment when she and the old man sat wordlessly before the fire was upstairs in his room [...], but not even in that room, either, but in a room, a world, inside himself where something was swelling and growing painfully and dully and imperceptibly like a great potato in a dark, damp cellar.
Willie's father and wife both love him, but they cannot have him. Willie, in this moment Jack imagines, doesn't sit with Lucy and Old Man Stark by the fire because he was "upstairs in his room with his face bent over a law book, his face puzzled and earnest and the tousle of hair hanging." Willie neglects his relationships, here and throughout the novel, because he is single-mindedly focused on his own moral ideas, legal training, and political ambitions. Jack describes how these feelings were growing at that time with a grotesque simile: "like a great potato in a dark, damp cellar." This image is rather gross—a giant potato growing in the dirt of a dank cellar "inside" Willie. This is characteristic of the tone of the book, which aims to describe Willie truly but also dramatically, exaggerating both his good and bad qualities.
On the breakneck drive that begins the novel, Jack introduces the reader to the many characters in the car that races Willie Stark to Mason City. These include Willie's driver, and one of his closest confidants, Sugar-Boy O'Sheean. With his characteristic wit and specificity as a narrator, Jack explains how Sugar-Boy earned his nickname:
His name was O'Sheean, but they called him Sugar-Boy because he ate sugar. [...] He'd pop the cube in over the barricade of his twisted black little teeth, and then you'd see the thin little mystic Irish cheeks cave in as he sucked the sugar, so that he looked like an undernourished leprechaun.
Here Jack uses a simile to describe the particular way that Sugar-Boy eats sugar, describing him "like an undernourished leprechaun." This is, for one, meant to be funny. Sugar-Boy, with his exaggerated Irish features and stuttering devotion to Willie, often serves as comic relief. (This makes his involvement in the climactic gunfight in Chapter 9 yet more striking.) The description is visually specific, with Sugar-Boy's "black little teeth" and "thin little mystic Irish cheeks" helping to introduce the character in detail to the reader. This simile also helps to establish Jack's particular tone, caustic and ironic yet precisely observant toward almost everyone he meets.
Just before this simile, Jack speaks directly to the reader: "No doubt you thought Sugar-Boy was a Negro, from his name. But he wasn't. He was Irish, from the wrong side of the tracks." And indeed, as shown in the description above, Sugar-Boy is very Irish. Jack goes to some length, in the above simile, to make Sugar-Boy into an Irish caricature, "an undernourished leprechaun." This aside to the reader is exemplary of Jack's political views as well. To Jack, freedom is ideally determined by one's knowledge and one's position in society, not by their race.
Chapter 2 begins with an extended flashback to 1922, when Jack was a reporter for the Chronicle and Willie was campaigning for reelection to the office of Mason County Treasurer. Willie was unlikely to win, as Jack describes in a simile:
Willie was coming up for re-election and his chances looked about as good as the chances of a flea making a living off a carved marble lion on a monument.
This is, for one thing, merely a humorous and evocative simile. Jack enjoys images that are unusual and slapstick in their physical manifestation, and a poor flea trying to bite a stone lion is a funny idea. Willie, the tall, stocky, big-shot politician, is imagined as a pitiful insect.
The simile also speaks to Willie's character. Another way to imagine this image is that Willie's boundless political ambition and work ethic is such that he could find success even in the most dire of circumstances, like a flea on a marble lion—getting blood from a stone. The carved marble lion is on a monument, making the lion a representative of state power and prestige. Willie's perseverance and single-mindedness, despite opposition and implausibility, is demonstrated in the flea, earnestly out for blood even from marble lions.
Willie is slow to realize, in Chapter 2, that his candidacy for governor in 1926 is a setup by the Democratic Party. Willie still gives his speeches boldly and earnestly, but he doesn't understand that he was set up to run as a joke, set up by MacMurfee to foil Harrison. At this point in the campaign, Louisianans have started to lose interest in Willie's message, but he doesn't see the reason. Jack describes the still-vital Willie through simile:
If a man ever had a right to look worried, it was Willie. But he didn't. He just looked like a man in a kind of waking dream, and when he walked out on the platform before he began talking his face looked purified and lifted up and serene like the face of a man who has just pulled out of a hard sickness. But he hadn't pulled out of the sickness he had. He had galloping political anemia.
Willie certainly does not seem like someone who has given up on his campaign just because his crowds are less interested in him. He looked "like a man in a kind of waking dream," "a man who has just pulled out of a hard sickness." Willie actually looks, assumedly, approximately the same as he always has, but Jack describes his vitality and political vigor through these similes.
But Jack presents these similes ironically. Willie appears to have "pulled out of a hard sickness," based on his continued energy in his speeches. But in reality, Jack says, Willie has another illness, which Jack uses as a metaphor: "galloping political anemia." Jack implies that Willie's lack of support from the party is like having a lack of iron in the blood, causing fatigue and loss of strength. There is a more subtle irony and foreshadowing from Jack here, too, as this episode will cause Willie to descend into another "sickness": alcoholism, which will follow him for the rest of his life.
In an extended flashback describing his romance with Anne, Jack observes the moment when he realized he was in love. He uses two different similes to describe the unusual feeling:
Then I thought, quite objectively as though I were observing the symptoms of a total stranger: You are in love. I was, for a moment, bemused by that thought. That I was in love. And that it wasn't a bit like the way I had thought it would be. I was surprised, and a little bit awed by the fact, like a person who learns unexpectedly that he has inherited a million dollars [...]. I got out of bed, very carefully, handling myself with awe-struck care as if I were a basket of eggs.
Jack describes that falling in love was like learning "unexpectedly that he has inherited a million dollars," and like being "a basket of eggs." Both of these similes describe how falling in love happened unexpectedly, as if it happened to him, even though it is a feeling in his own mind. Jack separates this feeling from himself and is shocked that he has seemingly become a different person after falling in love. He feels fragile and valuable, as if he is carrying something of great worth. He describes his love as either a million dollars or a basket of eggs: both are things that one ought to be very careful with.
This is also a moment of unusual emotional vulnerability from Jack. He usually avoids strong emotions, retreating to his "Great Sleeps" when life becomes difficult. This prevents himself, as well as the reader, from learning much about Jack's deeper emotional state. Here, though, when a powerful feeling of love settles on him, apparently against his will, he treats himself with extreme care, as if this new feeling is not something to be avoided, but something to be protected and cherished. When Jack reveals this depth of affection for Anne, it justifies his extreme reaction to her affair with Willie. In other words, this passage shows how seriously Jack took his love for Anne and how much his heart was broken when she betrayed him.
After Willie and Adam's deaths, Jack sets out to investigate who tipped off Adam about Anne's affair with Willie. In Chapter 10, Jack asks Anne whether she has any idea who it was. He describes how, while still grieving the deaths of her brother and lover, she tries to remember:
"Did he say who had telephoned him?"
She thought a minute. You could see her, even as she sat there, lifting the sheet off that moment when Adam had burst in on her, like somebody lifting the sheet off the face of a corpse on a marble slab in a morgue and peering into the face.
Then she shook her head. "No," she said, "he didn't say—" she hesitated— "except that it was a man. I'm sure he said man."
Jack describes how "you could see" Anne's painful attempt to remember this traumatic episode from her life. He uses a terrible simile, that the memory is "like somebody lifting the sheet off the face of a corpse." This turns Anne's memory into a very physical and morbid action. It is a powerful description of Anne's grief that to even attempt to remember an event just before Adam's death is tantamount to looking upon his real dead body. But Anne is still willing to peer at Adam's face in her memory and attempt to help Jack's investigation. This is a testament to Anne's strong devotion to truth and justice, a constant throughout the novel. Note, of course, that Anne is mistaken here, or her information from Adam was incorrect: it was Sadie Burke who actually made the call to Adam.