In his usual blunt manner, Dr. Sloper decries Lavinia's inconsistent intelligence to Mrs. Almond. He uses a simile to liken her to a "revolving lighthouse" alternating between brightness and darkness:
‘And yet at moments no one blurts things out with such crudity. She is like a revolving lighthouse; pitch darkness alternating with a dazzling brilliancy! But what did you tell her?’ the Doctor asked.
Dr. Sloper's comparison of Lavinia's inconsistent intelligence to a "revolving lighthouse" paints her as an irritatingly inconsistent character. While Dr. Sloper is not predisposed to think highly of women’s intelligence in general, Lavinia is a special source of annoyance. This is because Dr. Sloper likes consistency in all things, and Lavinia's intellect—much like the intermittent beams of a lighthouse—is portrayed as unpredictable and unreliable. This simile aligns intelligence with light and darkness with ignorance. It also suggests that the brightness of Lavinia’s intelligent moments is sporadic, occasionally illuminating a vast sea of "dark" ignorance. By saying she can be crude like “no one” else, he implies that Lavinia's moments of insight are anomalies rather than a consistent trait.
This observation also highlights a broader societal critique on how women's intelligence was judged and marginalized at this point in the 19th century. Dr. Sloper's frustrated query to Mrs. Almond—"But what did you tell her?"—further solidifies the notion that he underestimates Lavinia and doesn’t trust Mrs. Almond’s judgment either. He is insinuating that, regardless of Lavinia’s occasional "brightness," she shouldn’t be entrusted with significant information or decisions. He is also implying that Mrs. Almond telling her anything would not be a moment of “brightness” on the older woman’s part.
James offers a picturesque portrayal of Mrs. Montgomery's home, filling this passage with intense visual imagery and a simile referring to a toy shop. This all comes together to differentiate it from the grand Washington Square residence:
There were green shutters upon the windows, without slats, but pierced with little holes, arranged in groups; and before the house was a diminutive yard, ornamented with a bush of mysterious character, and surrounded by a low wooden paling, painted in the same green as the shutters. The place looked like a magnified babyhouse and might have been taken down from a shelf in a toy-shop.
In this scene, Mrs. Montgomery’s house is described as endearing and unassuming from the outside. The recurring language of smallness—it has a "diminutive yard" and looks like a "magnified babyhouse"—underlines its humble, unpretentious aspect. In stark contrast to the grandeur of the Sloper home, Mrs. Montgomery's residence is all modesty and simplicity. This sets the stage for Dr. Sloper’s visit, which displays the differences in wealth and status between the physician and this older, less financially secure woman. All the imagery in this passage is related to neatness and smallness, from the matching green paint and “palings” to the endearingly small holes in the shutters.
The comparison of the dwelling to a "babyhouse" is not just an observation of its size but a reflection on its innocence and charm. The simile of it appearing as if "taken down from a shelf in a toy-shop" further amplifies how whimsical it seems to Dr. Sloper. It's so small to him that it doesn't seem like anyone could actually live there: compared to his own house, this doesn't seem impossible.
This description also serves a strategic narrative purpose. By juxtaposing Mrs. Montgomery's residence with the opulence of the Sloper house from which Catherine's father arrives, James sharpens the socioeconomic contrasts that play a significant role in Washington Square. This home, with its green shutters and peculiar bushes, becomes emblematic of a life less grand and less austere than the one Catherine is faced with. Mrs. Montgomery’s dwelling is unassuming and welcoming, like her. While the Washington Square house seems irrevocably tied to the haughtiness and aristocratic restraint of Dr. Sloper, Mrs. Montgomery is genuine, unassuming, and unpretentious.
The narrative presents Catherine's internal conflict about Morris Townsend—namely, her desire to assert herself against her father's overwhelming will—using tactile imagery and a simile referring to the debilitating effect of being crushed by a great physical weight:
The idea of a struggle with her father, of setting up her will against his own, was heavy on her soul, and it kept her formally submissive, as a great physical weight keeps us motionless.
This simile conveys the immense emotional toll exerted by Dr. Sloper's expectations on his daughter. The "great physical weight" refers to the overwhelming force of paternal authority that keeps Catherine paralyzed. Just the thought of a disagreement with Dr. Sloper prevents her from asserting her wants and needs. This tactile imagery of crushing makes the reader feel the suffocating nature of Catherine's expected obedience. In this passage, James makes readers palpably understand the immense pressure she is under.
Catherine knows that her father's decisions will make her unhappy, as they often have done before. However, the idea of “setting her will up against his own” also makes her unhappy. It’s not just a weight she can push against physically—it’s literally “heavy on her soul.” The weight she feels so strongly is the societal and familial constraints she has grown up with. Much like a physical weight that hinders movement, Dr. Sloper's domineering presence and expectations keep Catherine firmly tethered in place, preventing her from exploring her own agency and desires.
This passage’s tactile imagery is very evocative, painting a vivid picture of a young woman ensnared and encumbered by societal and familial obligations. The "weight" not only represents her father's direct influence but also symbolizes the broader societal constraints of the time. Women, particularly those of Catherine's social standing, were often denied agency by male authority figures and were expected to obey without question. By emphasizing the "motionlessness" that this weight forces on Catherine, the narrative underscores the stifling atmosphere she navigates. She is frozen in place by the weight of patriarchal expectations.
Following a particularly cutting remark from Mrs. Penniman about Dr. Sloper's past family losses, Dr. Sloper retaliates with a look so sharp and intense that James uses a simile to compare it to a medical instrument:
Mrs Penniman hesitated a moment. Then she risked her retort. ‘Your being a distinguished physician has not prevented you from already losing two members of your family!’ She had risked it, but her brother gave her such a terribly incisive look—a look so like a surgeon’s lancet—that she was frightened at her courage.
This simile serves a dual purpose. Firstly, the "incisive look" suggests the sharpness and depth of Dr. Sloper's anger at Aunt Penniman. He is cutting into her with his eyes. A lancet is a tool used to make precise cuts or punctures in medicine. Here, the simile points to the precision and depth of his response to Aunt Penniman’s comment.
The narrator meets Mrs. Penniman's insult regarding Dr. Sloper's role as a "distinguished physician" with a retort made in medical language. This suggests that, even in personal disputes, Dr. Sloper's identity as a physician remains ever-present. However, the simile does more than just showcase his emotional state. By invoking a medical tool, the narrator draws a parallel between Dr. Sloper's professional and personal identities. Even in his personal interactions, his identity as a physician is never entirely absent. The simile becomes a reflection of his character. He's clinical, precise, and unyielding. When Mrs. Penniman dares to challenge him, his response is not just sharp. It's precise in its intent, cutting right to the core of the matter.
Furthermore, the use of a lancet—an instrument of healing—is paradoxically employed here as a weapon that wounds. It underscores the duality of Dr. Sloper's character. He’s a healer who specializes in women’s matters by profession, but a figure of dominance and control for the women in his life.
Publicly deriding Catherine's character, Dr. Sloper employs a simile that he extends into a metaphor. He likens her flaws to indelible dents on a kettle:
She is like a copper kettle that receives a dent; you may polish up the kettle, but you can’t efface the mark.
This simile epitomizes Dr. Sloper's rigid, unforgiving view of his daughter. By equating Catherine's flaws to a permanent dent on a copper kettle, he implies that, regardless of her efforts to improve or "polish" herself, some defects are impossible to erase.
The Doctor extends this simile into a metaphor. Catherine isn’t just like a kettle, here: she is a kettle. This metaphor serves not only as a comment on Catherine's character, but also as an insight into Dr. Sloper's shallow and unwavering judgments. In likening Catherine to a kettle—a household object meant for service—he underscores his perception of her as an unremarkable object. Like a kettle, which has a simple, single job to do, he sees his daughter as having a utilitarian role in his life. The word "efface" is another way of saying “erase” or “remove.” Dr. Sloper believes that what he sees as Catherine's shortcomings (weakness, a perceived lack of intelligence, being a woman) are inherently and irrevocably part of her, and this viewpoint casts a lasting shadow on his perception of her worth.
When Dr. Sloper gives his disdainful view of Catherine’s intellectual capacities as they travel in the Alps, he uses a simile to compare her to a bundle of shawls:
‘She is about as intelligent as the bundle of shawls,’ the Doctor said; her main superiority being that while the bundle of shawls sometimes got lost, or tumbled out of the carriage, Catherine was always at her post, and had a firm and ample seat.
This simile is very dismissive and cruel. By equating Catherine to a brainless tangle of material, Dr. Sloper not only belittles her intelligence but also reduces her to an inanimate object, stripping away her agency. Comparing her to a scarf is a way of saying she's simple, malleable and doesn't think deeply. It's a method of taking away her value as a person with her own thoughts and feelings. The allusion to her "firm and ample seat" also carries an uncomfortable, gendered sexual innuendo—especially coming from her father—hinting at the size and texture of her bottom.
Beyond its overt implication regarding Catherine's physique, the “firmness” of her seat suggests her steadiness and reliability. This might seem like praise, but in this context actually seems more like further mocking, suggesting that she can easily be taken for granted. By pointing out how she's always "at her post," Dr. Sloper is also hinting that she’s just good for sitting and not much else. The dual-edged remark illuminates Dr. Sloper's character as much as Catherine's, revealing his tendency to undermine his daughter with faint praise. When Dr. Sloper compares Catherine's intelligence to a bundle of shawls, he's objectifying her literally and metaphorically.
As Catherine’s anxieties about Morris Townsend converge on her, they seem to manifest as something real and touchable, a tangible dread. This transformation is captured vividly with the following simile:
A sudden fear had come over her; it was like the solid conjunction of a dozen disembodied doubts, and her imagination, at a single bound, had traversed an enormous distance.
In this passage, the narrator captures Catherine's internal turmoil. Her fears, once shapeless and scattered, are now combining with a startling solidity. When they all appear at once, it makes them feel more pressing and real. Her vague anxieties solidify into an undeniable truth, emphasizing the profound gravity of her emotions. This merging of nebulous uncertainties into something concrete suggests that Catherine is, in this passage, at a critical juncture of self-awareness and realization. By comparing these abstract worries to something solid, the novel underscores the weight and immediacy of Catherine's emotions.
The notion that her imagination takes a "single bound" after this intensifies the rapid and overwhelming nature of her realization. It’s as if her imagination takes the “bound” off the newly solid ground of her “disembodied doubts” about Morris Townsend. This rapid transition, which the simile captures, conveys a moment of new clarity that is abrupt, overwhelming, and intense. This magnifies the emotional stakes of Catherine's situation, drawing the reader deeper into her plight. Catherine's feelings, once ethereal and disconnected, suddenly meld into a tangible, almost oppressive realization of what's really going on.