In the flashback to Syme’s backstory leading up to his encounters with the police and the anarchists, there is vibrant visual imagery:
He walked on the Embankment once under a dark red sunset. The red river reflected the red sky, and they both reflected his anger. The sky, indeed, was so swarthy, and the light on the river relatively so lurid, that the water almost seemed of fiercer flame than the sunset it mirrored. It looked like a stream of literal fire winding under the vast caverns of a subterranean country.
Syme’s anger and rage at the rebellious, violent forces of the world is reflected back in his natural surroundings. The tumultuous red of the river and sunset, the fierce flame of the water, the lurid light—all of these descriptions build a scene that pulses with the heavy emotions of Syme’s inner turmoil. In this moment, the violent flow of the water in the red light turns the river itself into a potent image, symbolic of imminent change in Syme’s worldview. Chesterton’s grappling with the advent of modernity and technological innovation, and what these two things may mean for the preservation of faith, is consistent with this imagery that revels in the beauty and majesty of God’s natural creation.
The visual imagery in the book's description of Dr. Bull’s nightmarish glasses is striking, inviting the reader to consider how deeply intertwined the relationship is between one’s appearance and their identity:
The strong, white light of morning coming from one side creating sharp shadows, made him seem both more pale and more angular than he had looked at the breakfast on the balcony. Thus the two black glasses that encased his eyes might really have been black cavities in his skull, making him look like a death’s-head. And, indeed, if ever Death himself sat writing at a wooden table, it might have been he.
The deathlike effect of Dr. Bull’s glasses on his whole face and person is startling and at first builds credence to Syme’s fears about the danger of the anarchist group. The mere presence of the spectacles affirms every single one of Syme’s assumptions about Dr. Bull’s character as a self-proclaimed anarchist. This depiction is especially notable in comparison to how Dr. Bull is described following the removal of his spectacles later in the same chapter:
The two detectives saw sitting in the chair before them a very boyish-looking young man, with very frank and happy hazel eyes, an open expression, cockney clothes like those of a city clerk, and an unquestionable breath about him of being very good and rather commonplace. The smile was still there, but it might have been the first smile of a baby.
When it's revealed that the glasses are merely a disguise, Syme’s fear is turned on its head. The boyish innocence of Dr. Bull’s face without glasses reveals the goodness at his core while also demonstrating the fact that mere appearance cannot be taken at face value.
The carnival scene in Chapter 15 is full of vivid visual imagery and personification that establishes the surrealism of this otherworldly realm:
[The detectives] were led out of another broad and low gateway into a very large old English garden, full of torches and bonfires, by the broken light of which a vast carnival of people were dancing in motley dress. Syme seemed to see every shape in nature imitated in some crazy costume. There was a man dressed as a windmill with enormous sails, a man dressed as an elephant, a man dressed as a balloon; the two last, together, seemed to keep the thread of their farcical adventures. [...] There was a dancing lamppost, a dancing apple tree, a dancing ship. One would have thought that the untamable tune of some mad musician had set all the common objects of field and street dancing an eternal jig.
In the passage above, Chesterton’s literary imagination comes forward in full force as he fills the moment with an abundance of absurd details, including personifying inanimate objects (the dancing lamppost, apple tree, and ship). With this chapter, reality is left behind in favor of fantasy in order for Chesterton to explore the novel's philosophical questions about faith, identity, and the dichotomy of order and chaos. The carnival is meant to illustrate God’s capacity for creation and invention, imbuing the moment with a distinct sense of wonder that affirms the presence and superiority of a higher power.
