Metaphors In Darl Language

In the novel Darl uses a poetic language. His description of the burning barn, imbued with similes, evokes an artefact of mutually complementary images.
For an instant longer he [Jewel] runs silver in the moonlight, then he springs out like a flat figure cut leanly from tin against an abrupt and soundless explosion as the whole loft of the bam takes fire at once, as though it had been stuffed with powder. The front, the conical facade with the square orifice of doorway broken only by the square squat shape of the coffin on the sawhorses like a cubistic bug, comes into relief. (218-19)
Dissimilar metaphors, similes permit an object maintain its character while another image is overlapped on it. Instead of connecting two similar objects under

In the section, the reader pays attention to a pathological schizophrenic’s voice. Under the plane of the incommunicability of his language, however, the reader discerns how his identity has permanently disappeared into multiplicity. The narrating “I” examines Darl who keeps laughing, with foam in his mouth, but the new “I” is different from the other I in the preceding sections of his; this “I” is a newly born “I” after the death of I. The “I” enquires what Darl is laughing at, but Darl says only “yes yes yes yes yes” (253). The mad “I”’ s illusion, as Deleuze and Guattari study pathological schizophrenic cases, is not confined to the familial ambit, but stretched toward a wider surface of the society. Charles A. Peek’s analysis of the images makes a good example of how to understand the images as social and historical. He claims that the pornographic images seen through Darl’s spyglass and the two faces of one coin reveal Faulkner’s observations on the “obscene relation between the human [as consumer] and the natural [as consumed]” (Faulkner in America: Faulkner and Yoknapatawpha 116). One of the agents who escort him to Jackson sits alongside Darl and the other one rides backward, facing Darl; “I” says, “[o]ne of them had to ride backward because the state’s money has a face to each backside and a backside to each face, and they are riding on the state’s money which is incest”

Vardaman’s language, due to his raw originality, a gift to children, illustrates the minor use of the major language, too. Vardaman, as a child, is not unfamiliar to the world of metamorphoses; he realises his identity as a provisional consistency, and he suffers his body as passing through a cycle of becomings. When he cries, he becomes the “crying.” Vardaman says, “I can cry, the crying can,” and the “crying makes so much noise” (54). In his sentence, “I” gives way to the “crying”; when he cries, he is not him anymore but the “crying” itself. When he is “not crying,” he is “not anything” (56). Instead of saying “I am nothing,” Vardaman says, “I am not anything,” which shows that he makes out his self as if it were a plane on which deeds pass by, each of which marks out who he is. When his body ceases to perform, he is not anything, just awaiting something to occur to his body. Vardaman’s use of “because” also does not denote a domino effect situation. Vardaman says, “Pa said flour and sugar and coffee costs so much. Because I am a country boy because boys in town. Bicycles. Why do flour and sugar and coffee cost so much when he is a country boy. . . . If He can make the train, why cant He make them all in the town because flour and sugar and coffee” (66). Vardaman unsuccessfully tries to comprehend his world, but as a child, he cannot come to terms with why things are as they are. Impulsively, however, he sees