Definition of Hyperbole
Zora, still constantly unsure of herself and how others at Wellington see her, hopes that the new label of “sophomore” will bring sudden maturity and confidence with it. Smith uses hyperbole in this passage to show the extent of Zora’s awkward self-consciousness as she starts her second year of college:
Still living at home, still a virgin. And yet heading for her first day as a sophomore. Last year, when Zora was a freshman, sophomores had seemed altogether a different kind of human: so very definite in their tastes and opinions, in their loves and ideas. Zora woke up this morning hopeful that a transformation of this kind might have visited her in the night, but, finding it hadn’t, she did what girls generally do when they don’t feel the part: she dressed it instead.
When Dean French tells Claire that she’s going to have to admit Zora to her poetry class, Claire absolutely rails against the idea. She uses hyperbole to convey her frustration at the pressure from the university and to exaggerate Zora’s lack of talent.
Unlock with LitCharts A+Claire laughed. ‘Jack, Zora Belsey couldn’t write a poem if Emily Dickinson herself rolled out of her grave, put a gun to the girl’s head and demanded one. She’s simply untalented in this area. She refuses to read poetry – and all I get from her are pages from her journal aligned down the left-hand margin. I’ve got a hundred and twenty talented students applying for eighteen places.'
Kiki sits outside her kitchen worrying about the future and thinking about how uncomfortable her children would be to see her crouched on the outside step. Here, Smith uses metaphor and hyperbole to explain how Kiki feels her family resists her aging and expects her to remain unchanged when everything else threatens to fall apart:
Unlock with LitCharts A+Is it unusual, then, to be sat thus on a raised step, half in the kitchen and half in the garden, your feet numb on the chill flagstones, waiting for winter? Kiki had been quite content for the best part of an hour, just like this, watching the pitchy wind bully the last leaves to the ground – now here was her daughter, incredulous. The older we get the more our kids seem to want us to walk in a very straight line with our arms pinned to our sides, our faces cast with the neutral expression of mannequins, not looking to the left, not looking to the right, and not – please not – waiting for winter. They must find it comforting.