Figurative Language In The Glass Castle

In the Jeannette Walls memoir Glass Castle, the author expounds on situations about education found beyond the classroom walls by using life lessons such as survival skills and moral lessons such as acceptance and forgiveness through figurative language by using imagery.

One way Jeannette walls describe education beyond the classroom walls is through a life lesson such as survival skill. At a tender age of five jeannette learned to shoot guns and throw a knife; skills like this could be helpful if you were surviving in the wilderness. The author stated specifically “He also taught us the things that were really important and useful, like how to tap out Morse code and how we should never eat the liver of a polar bear because all the vitamin

By the time I was four, I was pretty good with Dad's pistol, a big black six­shot revolver, and could hit five out of six beer bottles at thirty paces. I'd hold the gun with both hands, sight down the barrel, and squeeze the trigger slowly and smoothly until, with a loud clap, the gun kicked and the bottle exploded. It was fun. Dad said my sharpshooting would come in handy if the feds ever surrounded us.” This indicates that the father cared about their safety by teaching them at a tender age how to survive or defend themselves if there were ever on there own. Skills like this can’t be learned in an educational classroom, it's more of a family upbringing.

Moreover, Walls portrays moral lessons such as acceptance in the beginning of the memoir.In the evenig Walls is in a taxi stuck in

After many years of avoiding and being angry at her parents, Walls finally goes to her father to forgive him after she found out that he was dieing. The author stated “"Now, no snot­slinging or boohooing about 'poor ol'Rex,'" Dad said. "I don't want any of that, either now or when I'm gone." I nodded. "But you always loved your old man, didn't you?" "I did, Dad," I said. "And you loved me." "Now, that's the God's honest truth." Dad chuckled. "We had some times, didn't we?" "We did." "Never did build that Glass Castle." "No. But we had fun planning it." "Those were some damn fine plans." Mom stayed out of the conversation, sketching quietly. "Dad," I said, "I'm sorry, I really should have asked you to my graduation." "To hell with that." He laughed. "Ceremonies never did mean diddly to me." He took another long pull on his magnum. "I got a lot to regret about my life," he said. "But I'm goddamn proud of you, Mountain Goat, the way you turned out. Whenever I think of you, I figure I must have done something right." "'Course you did." "Well, all right then." We talked about the old days some and, finally, it was time to go. I kissed them both, and at the door, I turned to look at Dad one more time. "Hey," he said. He winked and pointed his finger at me. "Have I ever let you down?" He started chuckling because he knew there was only one way I could ever answer that question. I just smiled. And then I