The Color of Buchrest (Visual Imagery)
Cristian describes the experience of living in Bucharest using grim visual imagery. Though Bucharest was once considered the "Little Paris" of Eastern Europe with "trees everywhere, lots of birds, and even Belle Époque architecture, "the communist regime bulldozed the city to make way for standardized concrete structures. The dismal urban landscape, the scarce resources, and ever-present fear make "living in Bucharest like living inside a black-and-white photo. Life in cold monochrome."
Romania's Natural Beauty (Visual Imagery)
Though Cristian hates the Romanian dictatorship, he finds national pride in Romania's verdant landscape and abundant natural resources. On television, he sees "the majestic Carpathian Mountains, the Black Sea, the lush Transylvanian countryside," where farmers grew "chest-high crops, thick and wondrous." This visual imagery is used to contrast the propaganda Cristian absorbs with the reality he sees when volunteering during the harvest: a barren, "scrubby lot of weedy plants" where "an emaciated cow moaned in the dirt, and a "carpet of flies feasted on the animal's corrugated rib cage."
Bunu's Corpse (Visceral Imagery)
When Bunu is murdered, Cristian describes his beloved grandfather's corpse using disturbing, visceral imagery. Cristian explains that the body was so beaten and dehumanized that "it wasn't Bunu." The "waxy corpse" looked like "a withered leaf that had lost its water." Describing the familiar planes of Bunu's face, Cristian is horrified that "Bunu's gray skin stretched gaunt and taut over his angular cheekbones" and "his open eyes stared hollow." The visceral imagery of Bunu's death condemns the violence the regime used to silence dissidents, as Bunu's "mouth pulled wide as if living a silent scream, gasping for freedom."
The Streets of Buchrest (Visceral Imagery)
When Cristian returns from Jilava, he walks down the "bloodstained pavement" past "buildings pocked with bullet holes" and "burned portraits of Ceauşescu." He is fearful and disgusted by the remnants of violence he encounters, as "the smoke-smothered streets frothed with war." This visceral imagery evokes the theme of memory. As the aftermath of the protest is cleaned and effectively erased, "street cleaning machines chugged along, hosing blood from the pavement" and "removing evidence" of the "murderous regime."
