My Brilliant Career: Imagery 11 key examples

The author uses the metaphor of a river to suggest that time in Possum Gully is “no object”: time is unimportant because it is unchanging and endless. Instead of time passing, Sybylla says her days “slide” into a "river of years.” This metaphor emphasizes the unpleasant monotony of the Gully, and explains why Sybylla feels trapped in its “narrow stagnation.” The language gives a sense of continuous flow, with each day indistinguishable from the next.

Tactile imagery further underscores this feeling of confinement. The terms "narrow" and "squeezing" suggest that Possum Gully is a space that exerts pressure on its inhabitants. All of this imagery reflects Sybylla’s sense that her family, in moving to this new community, have gone down in the world.

Sybylla's claim that "[n]othing ever happened there" is hyperbolic: Possum Gully may be boring, but time still has to pass. Franklin uses this hyperbole to underline Sybylla's frustration and sense of confinement. To a young and energetic woman, Franklin implies, it really might seem as if days merely slid "quietly into the river of years." Sybylla's teenage perspective amplifies the dullness of her existence there, making even small troubles seem more important than they are.

Franklin’s description of the wind as the "scorching furnace-breath" introduces the summer as a destructive and threatening presence, almost as if it is a living entity. The visual language here is all hard, hot, and gleaming, as if the "land" and "sky" are both molten metals being forged by a blacksmith. This metaphor of a furnace also accentuates the extreme heat of the summer; tactile language of being "parched," "shriveling," and having "no air" stifles the reader. The scene she depicts is unbearably hot, an environment where every blade of grass withers and dies. The desolation is further echoed by the "moan of starving stock," an auditory image that conveys the effects of the brutal heat on Mr. Melvyn's livestock. The combination of visual, tactile, and auditory imagery gives the readers an immersive sensory experience of summer in the Australian bush. All these images come together to portray the unrelenting harshness of the outback’s climate on living things.

The metaphor of the land being "iron" and the sky "brass" also works to create a visual representation of the severe terrain. Its solidity and unyielding nature mirrors the broader social and financial struggles faced by Sybylla: she is fighting against a world as hard as metal. Almost everything in the Australia of My Brilliant Career—aside from life at Caddagat—is difficult.

The reference to "starving stock" Franklin makes here is also another piece of clever wordplay. Sybylla and her family have come to this hardscrabble point in their lives because of her father's failed career in stocks and shares. Their "stock" are starving, so Mr. Melvyn has failed at "stocks" twice over.

Franklin emphasizes the dreamy beauty of Caddagat through a metaphor invoking the softness of fabric. Caddagat is so beautiful that it is “draped” in beauty. It isn't just a lovely place: it's so beautiful that it seems there's an excess of beauty that falls in folds around it. This metaphor also creates a sense for the reader that everything at Caddagat is soft, plentiful, and luxurious. This couldn't be more different from the harsh, sparse Australian outback Sybylla arrives from. This metaphor is about more than the visual aspects of Caddagat, however; it's also about how Sybylla feels about the place. Words like "draped" and "enfolded" suggest a sense of warmth and being held. They envelop Caddagat in more tactile imagery of softness and comfort, where Sybylla is “enfolded in grandmotherly love.”

The repetitive sound of the word "Caddagat" also adds to this soothing, soft quality. Sybylla repeats it several times in this passage. The rhythmic repetition of the words is amplified by the alliteration of all the “C” sounds, and by the repetitive sounds within the word “Caddagat” itself. It's like a soothing lullaby, reinforcing Sybylla's emotional attachment to the place. Through these techniques, Franklin helps readers understand why Sybylla is so attached to Caddagat. It's not just her birthplace: it's a place where she feels comfortable, loved, and hopeful. 

The "cold windowpane" against Sybylla’s forehead conveys a feeling of coolness and hardness. It evokes a striking sensation that most readers have probably experienced, drawing them into the scene. Franklin also uses visual imagery to evoke Sybylla’s environment, as she stares into the "inky blackness" of the night. Although she is excited at her new prospects, she can’t predict what will happen to her at Caddagat any more than she can “discern the objects” which the train passes.

Despite her eagerness to leave Possum Gully, the darkness suggests she is also apprehensive about what lies ahead. The depiction of the dark, boundless night underscores the vastness of the Australian outback, giving the reader a sense of Sybylla's combined excitement and fear. On one hand, the motion of the train is described as a "joy" to her, indicating her eagerness to escape from Possum Gully, her father's coldness and anger, and her mother's disapproval. On the other hand, however, the picture Franklin paints of her vainly trying to discern objects through the darkness suggests her underlying fear and unease about the unknown.

In this passage, Sybylla describes her realization of her “plain” looks using a simile. This realization is like a "cruel jagged knife" that cuts into her heart, a strikingly violent tactile image that emphasizes the depth of her distress. Franklin's use of tactile imagery —the sensation of stabbing, the feeling of something sinking into Sybylla’s heart—adds to the intensity of the simile and allows readers to viscerally experience Sybylla's emotional turmoil. This strong, intense imagery provokes feelings of empathy in the reader, as they can almost physically feel Sybylla's pain.

The use of hyperbole in this context underpins the intensity of Sybylla's teenage angst. The actual events here are not that dramatic. Sybylla is worried she isn’t attractive, and finds it unfair that some people are. Phrases such as "sank into my heart" contribute to the passage’s tone of almost silly melodrama, capturing the heightened emotions characteristic of youth and adolescence. The list of critical adjectives Franklin then gives the reader—“ugly and nasty and miserable and useless”—also contributes to this petulant tone.

It’s important to note, though, that although this language is exaggerated, the society in which Franklin sets her novel valued conventional female beauty extremely highly. A lack of attractiveness could truly prove disastrous for a young woman without financial independence. As it was difficult for women to find paid work, many could only support themselves through marriage. In this passage, the author provides an insight into the societal pressures faced by young women like Sybylla during this time. She is worried her looks will ruin her chances of security, as well as her chance at happiness.

The description of Uncle Julius's attire uses a simile to compare the appearance of frock coats on thin men to "forlorn, dying-duck" feathers. Franklin expands on this visual imagery to emphasize the difference between the unappealing appearance of evening-coats on thin men, and the effects of these bold, swaggering fashion choices on Uncle Julius. This simile of a dying duck doesn't only brings a comical sight to mind for the reader. It also emphasizes Uncle Julius's bulk and strength. He's "broad" when compared to other, smaller men. He is so big and robust that the frock coat, which can appear "forlorn" on thinner men, becomes fitting and elegant on his frame. This contrast underlines his dominant, overbearing presence in the room. The imagery enhances the reader’s understanding of both Uncle Julius's imposing size and the significance of his appearance in Sybylla's eyes. Unlike the "sparrow-tailed affairs" of other men, Julius's evening clothes are an assertive, proud display.

The constant sound of the stream is described in this passage as having a "weird melancholy," almost as if it's sad itself. Because the stream isn’t alive, the “solemn rush” of the sound of its passing seems almost supernatural in its intensity. The auditory imagery Franklin uses here is both appealing and creepy, making the scene seem unreal. Sybylla herself seems to waver between deafness and hearing, as the music and her reading interrupt one another. Though the scene is not a noisy one, its description is packed with conflicting sounds.

The stream's continuous flow is also compared to a "wind ceaselessly endeavoring to outstrip a wild vain regret which relentlessly pursued." This simile, featuring personification of the wind, makes the setting and the sound of the stream seem even more regretful and sorrowful. It also foreshadows the “wild vain hope” of returning to Caddagat that the older Sybylla will feel. It's not just Sybylla who's feeling regret and loss; the landscape of Caddagat seems to feel it, too.

This passage emphasizes the beauty and tranquility of Caddagat, which Sybylla describes as a fantastical, dreamlike space of fulfillment and joy. While she’s there, she is enveloped by a world of color and scent. The reader’s sense of touch and sight is stimulated by flower beds "carpeted with pansy blossoms" and their sense of smell by air filled with the “rich perfume” of blooms. Everything is tender, beautiful, and appealing to an intense degree. Even the light contributes to this, the "soft spring sunshine" imbuing everything with warmth and growth.

Contrasted against this, Franklin introduces the metaphor of "burning discontent” when discussing Sybylla’s state of mind. Amidst the allure of all these “delights of the old garden,” she still feels internal dissatisfaction and frustration. Though the garden does soothe her “ruffled feelings,” it is only a temporary distraction from her turbulent emotions. The sharp disparity between Sybylla's troubled mind and the tranquil garden emphasizes the difference between her internal and external realities. Despite being surrounded by beauty, she is grappling with a profound discontentment with herself. This is one of many ways that Franklin depicts Sybylla’s teenage struggle with identity and self-acceptance.

Franklin's similes in this passage cast Sybylla as a "little white handkerchief" in the shadow of Miss Blanche Derrick. This other young woman is likened to a "gorgeous shawl heavily wrought in silks and velvet." This comparison underlines Sybylla's feelings of smallness and obscurity next to the grander and bigger lady. Sybylla is still very self-conscious and insecure at this point in the novel. The similes in this passage point to her tendency to compare herself negatively to others.

The visual imagery of this passage, which juxtaposes the "crushed white muslin dress" and "gorgeous shawl heavily wrought in silks and velvet," further accentuates the contrast between the two women. Sybylla feels that there is something inferior in the very fabric of her being. Compared to Miss Derrick, who is “gorgeous” and “wrought in silks,” she feels like a “crushed” handkerchief in her plain white frock. The fact that Miss Derrick is given the "best seat as though she were a princess" speaks to the reality of the social disparities Sybylla faces: it's not just in her head. She feels—and is—overshadowed in settings like this. By emphasizing her unease in socially hierarchical settings such as the Yabtree ball, Franklin evokes Sybylla’s youthful clumsiness for the reader.

This passage draws readers into the raw emotional intensity of Sybylla and Harold's relationship at this point in the novel. The metaphor of Harold as a "calm silent giant" whom Sybylla has “waked” points to this: before, he was stoic and unresponsive no matter what she did, but her “ineffectual struggles” have now succeeded.

Franklin employs tactile imagery as the narrator describes feeling Harold's "big heart beating wildly" through his shirt. This conveys the physical closeness of the characters, as does the language of “warm” bodies and feeling “thrilling, electric” and “splendidly alive.” These descriptions make the reader feel the fervor and clutching closeness of this moment, and understand Sybylla’s triumph and excitement.

The imagery in this passage immerses readers in the serene atmosphere of the setting. Everything at Caddagat is beautiful, “sweet,” “balmy.” There is an excess of images of darkness and fullness, as if the place itself is almost over-ripe: “deep” shadows, “laden” trees, “ripe and ripening” fruit. The tactile imagery is soft and enveloping, as the evening is “wrapped” in silence. The auditory imagery is soothing and hushed too, as the silence is broken only by the “murmur of the creek.” All these details contribute to the sense of abundance and peace in this orchard. They reinforce the tranquility of the scene, which is almost supernaturally still and beautiful.

Franklin gives the reader several kinds of sensory stimulation at once, describing Sybylla staining her fingers, lips, and teeth with the “sweet dark fruit of a mulberry tree.” This act of staining certainly paints a strong visual picture for the reader. However, it also refers to how deeply Caddagat has left an impression on Sybylla's life and identity. As her older self "narrates" the scene, the reader realizes that Sybylla has been “stained” with Caddagat's “dark fruit” of beauty, and with sadness at its loss, for her whole life.