End
Near the end of the novel, Eugenia has made the decision to stop seeking her fortune in America and return home to Europe. She stops by the elegant manor home of the Actons to pay her respects to the aging mother of her last great hope in that treasure hunt, Robert. Afterward, while waiting for help to show her downstairs, Eugenia is left alone long enough to fully take in the glory of what might have been. “The broad staircase made a great bend, and in the angle was a high window, looking westward, with a deep bench, covered with a row of flowering plants in curious old pots of blue china-ware. The yellow afternoon light came in through the flowers and flickered a little on the white wainscots. Eugenia paused a moment; the house was perfectly still, save for the ticking, somewhere, of a great clock.” In this moment of solitude and reflection, Eugenia’s hopes to marry the wealthy Robert Action are as close to dying as Mrs. Acton is to death itself. The imagery throughout the longer passage from this example is excerpted is elegiac, using specific details like the subtle reference to the sun setting in the west, new flowers blooming in old planters, the dying illumination of the afternoon sun, and the ticking clock to parallel the end of death hope and the coming end of a long life.
Pretty Women
The very first direct description of Eugenia is the words “She was not pretty.” In the same paragraph, a strange bit of imagery softens this blow: “…but she carries her head like a pretty woman.” At several points along the way, the Europeans remark upon how pretty American women are, in the conventional sense. Interestingly enough, the fellow usually remarking on this tendency toward physical beauty—Eugenia’s brother Felix—will eventually marry an American girl named Gertrude. Gertrude, however, is that seemingly rare American girl who is not considered pretty on the outside. This imagery seems geared toward the purpose of class distinction. The privileged can get away with being unconventionally pretty whereas for the bulk of the American population of women, it is a requirement for the upper class to even take notice of them.
A Lost Fortune
A gentleman named Robert Acton falls in love with Eugenia. Since “seeking her fortune” is really just a secret code for “looking for a wealthy man to marry” he is the closest she ever really gets to finding that fortune she is seeking. Of Acton, Eugenia turns to imagery to contemplate that “his honesty was almost like carrying a bunch of flowers; the perfume was most agreeable, but they were occasionally an inconvenience.” Ironically, this almost too brutally honest man slips through Eugenia’s fingers over the issue of honesty. He will ultimately reject her in favor of a “nice young girl” because he realizes that he cannot reciprocate her opinion of him. Simply put, Acton is forced to admit to himself that Eugenia is not altogether trustworthy.
Eugenia’s Honesty
Coincidentally, imagery is also used to highlight the singular moment in time when Acton comes closest to dismissing his conflicted feelings about Eugenia and decides he should instead dive right into the romance of the thing. “She had conformed to the angular conditions of New England life, and she had had the tact and pluck to carry it off as if she liked them…All along, hitherto, he had been on his guard with her; he had been cautious, observant, suspicious. But now a certain light tumult in his blood seemed to tell him that a finer degree of confidence in this charming woman would be its own reward.” Once again, the narrator uses his powers of omniscience to penetrate into the mind of a character so that this temporary resolution of ambivalence is portrayed through descriptive imagery. Using such imagery, the author is able to efficiently move Acton from questioning her honesty (“as if she like them”) to being physically overcome with a palpable desire to gamble on it anyway (“light tumult in his blood”).
