Definition of Imagery
In Chapter 2, Eliot compares Silas Marner's desire for gold to his need for sustenance using simile, personification, and sensory language. Silas has been hoarding his earnings for so long that just having the pot of gold coins and watching the pile grow is the most satisfying thing he does:
He began to think it [the money] was conscious of him, as his loom was, and he would on no account have exchanged those coins, which had become his familiars, for other coins with unknown faces. He handled them, he counted them, till their form and colour were like the satisfaction of a thirst to him; but it was only in the night, when his work was done, that he drew them out to enjoy their companionship.
Eliot foreshadows both Dunstan's grim accidental death and his decision to steal Silas's gold in the imagery in Chapter 4, which directly precedes Cass's stealthy entry into the weaver's house. As Dunstan walks in the dusk, he observes that:
Unlock with LitCharts A+The spot looked very dreary at this season, with the moist trodden clay about it, and the red, muddy water high up in the deserted quarry. That was Dunstan’s first thought as he approached it; the second was, that the old fool of a weaver, whose loom he heard rattling already, had a great deal of money hidden somewhere.
The rhythmic sounds of Marner's loom punctuate his days, drowning out the sounds of Lantern Yard and then Raveloe outside. An instance of this powerful auditory language occurs in Chapter 10, when Dolly remarks that she doesn't think Silas knows it's time for church:
Unlock with LitCharts A+'I doubt you didn’t know it was Sunday. Living so lone here, you lose your count, I daresay; and then, when your loom makes a noise, you can’t hear the bells, more partic’lar now the frost kills the sound.'
‘Yes, I did; I heard ’em,’ said Silas, to whom Sunday bells were a mere accident of the day, and not part of its sacredness.
Silas Marner is as miserly and dry as sand before his real good nature is "unblocked" through his relationship with his adopted daughter. Eliot uses the metaphor of a rivulet (a tiny stream) to describe the flow of goodness working its way through his "soul" in Chapter 10:
Unlock with LitCharts A+The fountains of human love and of faith in a divine love had not yet been unlocked, and his soul was still the shrunken rivulet, with only this difference, that its little groove of sand was blocked up, and it wandered confusedly against dark obstruction.
In Chapter 10 of Silas Marner Dolly alludes to the British Christian tradition of carol-singing, remarking to Silas that nothing stirs her blood like Christmas music:
Unlock with LitCharts A+There’s no other music equil to the Christmas music—“Hark the erol angils sing.” And you may judge what it is at church, Master Marner, with the bassoon and the voices, as you can’t help thinking you’ve got to a better place a’ready—for I wouldn’t speak ill o’ this world, seeing as Them put us in it as knows best—but what wi’ the drink, and the quarrelling, and the bad illnesses, and the hard dying, as I’ve seen times and times, one’s thankful to hear of a better. [...]
The novel's protagonist is compared to many objects and creatures from the natural world in Silas Marner. These similes help the reader to understand the simplicity of Marner's approach to life and link him to the novel's rural scenery. For instance, when Marner discovers his gold has been stolen in Chapter 10, Eliot aligns Marner's total loss of direction and his sense of loss to that of a "baffled" insect:
Unlock with LitCharts A+Marner’s thoughts could no longer move in their old round, and were baffled by a blank like that which meets a plodding ant when the earth was broken away on its homeward path. The loom was there, and the weaving, and the growing pattern in the cloth; but the bright treasure in the hole under his feet was gone; the prospect of handling and counting it was gone: the evening had no phantasm of delight to still the poor soul’s craving.
In Chapter 12, when Silas finds Eppie sleeping by his hearth, he believes for a moment that the toddler is actually his stolen gold miraculously returned. Eliot uses the imagery of gold—previously only aligned with greed and miserliness—to foreshadow to the reader that the protagonist has come into possession of an even larger treasure than his mass of coin:
Unlock with LitCharts A+Gold!—his own gold—brought back to him as mysteriously as it had been taken away! He felt his heart begin to beat violently, and for a few moments he was unable to stretch out his hand and grasp the restored treasure. The heap of gold seemed to glow and get larger [...] but instead of hard coin with the familiar resisting outline, his fingers encountered soft warm curls. In utter amazement, Silas fell on his knees and bent his head low to examine the marvel: it was a sleeping child—a round, fair thing with soft yellow rings all over its head.
The motif of inner goodness shining through one's outward appearance recurs throughout this novel. For example, in Chapter 16 the narrator describes Nancy's looks as remaining pleasant even though she's no longer a young girl. The narrator explains that this is mostly due to Nancy's wonderful personal qualities:
Unlock with LitCharts A+[...] Nancy’s beauty has a heightened interest. Often the soul is ripened into fuller goodness while age has spread an ugly film, so that mere glances can never divine the preciousness of the fruit. [...] The firm yet placid mouth, the clear veracious glance of the brown eyes, speak now of a nature that has been tested and has kept its highest qualities; and even the costume, with its dainty neatness and purity, has more significance now the coquetries of youth can have nothing to do with it.
At the end of Chapter 17, Nancy is standing by the door of her cottage anxiously awaiting Godfrey's return. In this scene, Eliot foreshadows the startling nature of Nancy's upcoming discussion with her husband; he is about to disclose finding Dunstan's skeleton and the truth about his relationships with Eppie and Molly. The author gives the reader a sense of foreboding by juxtaposing images of the sublime natural world with the language of death and shadow:
Unlock with LitCharts A+She continued to stand, however, looking at the placid churchyard with the long shadows of the gravestones across the bright green hillocks, and at the glowing autumn colours of the Rectory trees beyond. Before such calm external beauty the presence of a vague fear is more distinctly felt—like a raven flapping its slow wing across the sunny air. Nancy wished more and more that Godfrey would come in.