Collins uses intense, austere, and sometimes even paradoxical visual language in the first Prologue to show the splendor and scale of the Moon God's temple in India. He goes on to allegorize the British conquest of the subcontinent in the same passage. The anonymous narrator tells the reader that "Here, in a new shrine – in a hall inlaid with precious stones, under a roof supported by pillars of gold – the moon-god was set up and worshipped." The fragment of the sentence that describes the temple here appears in em-dashes, which separate it from the rest of Collins's writing. It is as if even the description's language is too splendid to be surrounded by other normal words.
The Moonstone diamond itself, which is intended to adorn the forehead of the Moon God's statue, is a sacred object to the people of Benares. Its setting has to be impressive and solemn. The "breath of divinity," a supernatural force breathed into the stone by the God, is apparently palpable. The Brahmins cannot even lay their eyes upon the stone, it's so splendid: they "hide their faces" from its blinding, divine brightness.
Paradoxically, Collins then says that the deity "commanded that the Moonstone should be watched, from that time forth, by three priests in turn, night and day, to the end of the generations of men." The deity has given these people an impossible task, as they must forever watch over something they cannot even look at directly. This paradox evokes the Moonstone's extreme splendor and its quality of irresistible attractiveness: one cannot look at it, and yet one must.
Although it is surrounded by images of towering golden pillars and floors inlaid with other gems, these structures are just framing for its extreme resplendence. In this description of the temple, Collins also refers to a British stereotype about India as a secretive, mysterious, and opulent land of riches. The entire building that houses the moonstone is made of treasure. India, as the place which actually holds the Moonstone, is symbolically also represented as a highly prized and valuable "temple" that the British have despoiled and plundered.
The theft of the Moonstone from Benares and its eventual confinement in the underground clutches of an evil British Army officer is an allegory for the conquest of India by Britain. It also refers to the spiriting away of many of India's sacred treasures to languish in museum vaults, lock-boxes, and private homes in England. The Moonstone is removed from its sacred resting-place and is sacrilegiously set into the handle of an ornamental dagger by its first thief. Having had its religious purpose obscured—as many holy objects did when they were seized by people who didn't understand their significance—it is then stolen from India and brought back to Britain by Colonel John Herncastle after the "taking of Seringapatam."
The darkness of the sensory language surrounding the Shivering Sand in Period 1 Chapter 4 is a literal version of the gloomy mass of contradictory facts, dark truths, and hidden evidence in The Moonstone. Rosanna uses hyperbolic language and provocative alliteration to describe the Sand. Her intense descriptions of it also foreshadows her own death within its depths. When Rosanna and Betteredge stand looking over the Sand together in Chapter 4, Betteredge says:
I looked where she pointed. The tide was on the turn, and the horrid sand began to shiver. The broad brown face of it heaved slowly, and then dimpled and quivered all over. ‘Do you know what it looks like to me?’ says Rosanna, catching me by the shoulder again. ‘It looks as if it had hundreds of suffocating people under it – all struggling to get to the surface, and all sinking lower and lower in the dreadful deeps! Throw a stone in, Mr Betteredge! Throw a stone in, and let’s see the sand suck it down!’
In this passage, Rosanna uses the diction of suffering and suffocation to give the reader a bold visual image of her fear of the Sand. She imagines it to be full of "hundreds of suffocating people" below the surface, and although this is hyperbolic, the quicksand itself does eventually prove to contain "suffering." It hides evidence from the people investigating the theft of the Moonstone, and it is associated with secrets, pain, and strife by every narrator.
When people describe the Sand, as Rosanna does here, it is linked to the visual language of obscurity and loss: it has "dreadful deeps" like grief and is "horrible" to look at as it shivers like a person in terror. The language of pointless struggle in Rosanna's descriptions also provokes a sense of hopelessness and despair for the reader, as she describes people "sinking lower and lower" into the muck. The alliteration of "Throw a stone in, and let’s see the sand suck it down!" also provides the reader with auditory imagery: the sucking "s" sounds in this phrase echo the plop and sink of a stone into the quicksand. All of this obsessive, gloomy talk foreshadows the later point at which Rosanna drowns herself in the Shivering Sand. She follows the arc of the stone that is "thrown in" and is also "sucked" down, never to be seen again.
A last link between Rosanna and the dark sensory language surrounding the Shivering Sand is made by Franklin Blake at the end of this chapter. As he "closes" his discussion of her suicide note, he describes the next stage of his story as his "toilsome journey from the darkness to the light." In Chapter 8 of his Third Narrative, he resolves to "force his way through all obstacles, from the darkness to the light" with the help of Sergeant Cuff's detective work.
In Chapter 5 of the First Period, the sinister Colonel Herncastle is described by the manservant Betteredge through a series of visual and auditory images. These foreshadow his sinister motives:
I expected him to break out, even at that polite way of putting it. To my surprise he did nothing of the sort; he alarmed me by taking the thing with an unnatural quiet. His eyes, of a glittering bright grey, just settled on me for a moment; and he laughed, not out of himself, like other people, but into himself, in a soft, chuckling, horridly mischievous way.
In this passage, Herncastle's quiet, his "glittering," and his "bright" and "grey" eyes suggest that his body has taken on some diamond-like qualities. He has become infected with the visual language of the Moonstone diamond, which Collins repeatedly describes using this same diction.
When Herncastle creepily laughs "into himself," this uncanny auditory imagery actually suggests a visual image as well. Diamonds have a quality called "total internal reflection," meaning that they sparkle because all the facets cut into them make light reflect within the stone. In his "horridly mischievous way," Herncastle's laughter only reflects "into himself" like cut diamonds do with light.
Later in the novel Collins reveals that Herncastle has even more diamond-like qualities: after coming into possession of the Moonstone, Herncastle begins to live his life concealed underground, like a diamond before it's dug out. All this imagery foreshadows his evil deeds, giving the reader an impression of his abhorrent personality even at this early stage. It also foreshadows the mysterious power the Moonstone seems to hold over people, as possessing it so proudly affects Herncastle.
When Betteredge describes first seeing the Moonstone diamond in Period 1, Chapter 9, Collins immediately presents the reader with powerful visual imagery of paralysis, depth, color, and intensity:
Lord bless us! it was a Diamond! As large, or nearly, as a plover’s egg! [...] When you looked down into the stone, you looked into a yellow deep that drew your eyes into it. [...] It seemed unfathomable; this jewel, that you could hold between your finger and thumb, seemed unfathomable as the heavens themselves. We set it in the sun, and then shut the light out of the room, and it shone awfully out of the depths of its own brightness, with a moony gleam, in the dark.
Betteredge is so stunned by even the "flash" of the diamond that Rachel gives him that he has to "bless" himself to express his surprise. All of the sensory language of sight that Collins uses here makes the diamond seem uncannily enormous and engaging. It's just a stone in the hand of a young girl at this point, but it's also an object that contains "a yellow deep" that the manservant finds difficult to describe. The imagery of its relative smallness—"you could hold it between finger and thumb"—is contrasted with descriptions of its enormous and supernatural profundity. It is "as unfathomable as the heavens themselves": so "unfathomable" indeed that Betteredge uses the word twice in the same phrase.
Collins also, even at this very early point of its presence in the story, gives a supernatural veil to the Moonstone. When Betteredge describes it later in the passage he says it does not merely reflect light, but actually, impossibly, "contains" it. The jewel is so valuable and so eerily beautiful that it shines by itself like a light is on within it. Its "moony glow" is still visible, coming from the "depths of its own brightness" as it scintillates "awfully" alone in the dark. This imagery supports the narrative that the Moonstone is cursed. It isn't just a stone, even after it has been removed from the Moon God's Temple. It is an object with its own, frightening power.
Collins uses a simile describing India-rubber in Narrative 1 Chapter 9 to describe the "speaking, yellow haired" and vivacious Ablewhite sisters. This simile accompanies the visual and tactile imagery of largeness, yellowness, and abundance where these girls are concerned. Mr. Betteredge, a little overwhelmed, describes the arrival of Godfrey Ablewhite and his sisters at the Verinder house:
They were nearly as big as their brother; spanking, yellow-haired, rosy lasses, overflowing with superabundant flesh and blood; bursting from head to foot with health and spirits [...] I declare they bounced on the ground as if they were made of india-rubber. Everything the Miss Ablewhites said began with a large O; everything they did was done with a bang; [...] Bouncers – that’s what I call them.
In comparison to Rachel, whom Collins describes as small, dark, and "straight," these people seem like enormous, rounded golden giants. They are overwhelmingly embodied, "overflowing" with life and with flesh. The imagery surrounding them is startlingly bright and golden. Their bodies are so full and plump that Betteredge says they "bounce" like "India-rubber." He is referring to a kind of natural plastic ball popular with Victorian schoolchildren, which bounced and ricocheted wildly around when thrown. The reader, like Betteredge, feels almost assaulted by the physical presence of these girls, especially when they bouncingly appear next to the small, economically-proportioned Rachel.
Auditory imagery appears in this passage too; the cries of "O" before the girls speak imply that everything they say is a loud exclamation, and the "bang" that accompanies all their actions only adds to this cacophony. The reader is left with an impression of both overwhelming noise and bulldozing blonde bodies.
In Chapter 18 of the First Period, Collins employs similes which compare Rachel Verinder to both a lily and a cat. Through this and other comparisons, he establishes that how a character looks on the outside generally indicates their interior nature in The Moonstone. When Betteredge sees Rachel approaching, he observes that:
She came swiftly out to us, as straight as a lily on its stem, and as lithe and supple in every movement she made as a young cat.
In The Moonstone people usually show aspects of their personality in their physical appearance; although there are some notable exceptions, like the noble-hearted but ugly Jennings and the deceitful but handsome Godfrey Ablewhite. Rachel is not very beautiful, as Betteredge observes earlier, but she's "straight" and pure like a lily (a common symbol of purity in the Victorian period). Rachel is described as being "lithe and supple" here, adjectives which might apply to both cats and lilies in their flexibility and slimness. Through this simile Collins establishes that, at this point in the book, she's in good health, physically and mentally, and like a cat she's cunning and adaptable.
Rachel also does things and goes places in a "straight" way—she's direct and to the point, with no frippery or unnecessary frills:
She took up her garden hat from a chair, and then went straight to Penelope with this question:
– ‘Mr Franklin Blake sent you with a message to me this morning?’
Notice here that Rachel doesn't go to "find" Penelope, but instead goes "straight" to her. The is no beating about the bush in Rachel's nature. She is more inclined to be blunt and direct than to be vague and polite, which would be more conventionally feminine. Betteredge also adds the following comment about her in the same section of Chapter 18, reinforcing this language of "straightness" and of purity:
she carried her head as upright as a dart, in a dashing, spirited, thoroughbred way – that she had a clear voice, with a ring of the right metal in it [...]
Rachel's "straightness" is so ingrained that it's actually a part of her physical makeup. Her voice is not only "clear" but has "a ring of the right metal in it," a play on words which implies that she's both well spoken and very firm. Collins also implies a second animal comparison here, as he aligns her with the imagery of a "thoroughbred" horse. These animals are bred for one purpose. They must be made of the "right metal" to get exactly where they're going as fast as they can, as is the young Miss Verinder. Rachel may not be conventionally beautiful, but Collins's imagery makes clear that she's direct, straightforward, and honest.
In the Second Chapter of Blake's Second Narrative, the reader is introduced to Ezra Jennings through visual imagery that aligns him with the novel's Indian characters. In The Moonstone, where India is described as being a site of both savagery and mystery, this can't be a good thing. In this chapter, a law clerk tells the solicitor Mr. Bruff that he's just encountered:
[...] rather a remarkable-looking man, sir. So dark in the complexion that we all set him down in the office for an Indian, or something of that sort.
This imagery recurs as a motif throughout the novel whenever Jennings first meets a new person: he's described as a "remarkable-looking man" five times. He is the novel's only mixed-race character. Collins never actually specifies what the other half of Jennings's non-English ethnicity is. However, it is strongly implied to be Indian both through the novel's other Indian contexts, and through the author's description of Jennings's nose, which has "the fine shape and modeling so common to the ancient peoples of the East." There's also the fact that other people can't seem to resist noting how "dark" he is "in the complexion."
Collins refers to the deeply divided nature of the British racial divide when the clerk says that he and his companions "set [Jennings] down in the office for an Indian": the people who are responsible for making records have metaphorically "set him down" or defined him with this identity. These descriptions of Ezra's non-English features are never praise, as everyone says Jennings is "remarkable" in his "ugliness." The word "remarkable" occurs over and over, emphasizing how different Jennings looks from his companions.
Mr Blake, in the fourth chapter of Narrative 3, also describes Jennings as unusual-looking and "remarkable":
the most remarkable-looking man that I had ever seen. Judging him by his figure and his movements, he was still young. Judging him by his face, and comparing him with Betteredge, he looked the elder of the two. His complexion was of a gipsy darkness; his fleshless cheeks had fallen into deep hollows, over which the bone projected like a pent-house. From this strange face, eyes, stranger still, of the softest brown – eyes dreamy and mournful, and deeply sunk in their orbits – looked out at you [...]
Blake's description expands on that of the clerk, noting Ezra's unusual features and adding some legal and categorizing language of his own. He "judges" Ezra first by his face, and then by "his figure and his movements." This description is so detailed that it's almost reminiscent of a witness report, furthering the sense of legal categorization. A description of Jennings recurs in Narrative 3 Chapter 9, also by Blake, as if to emphasize that Jennings's startling visual qualities are unforgettable and must somehow relate to his character:
His gipsy-complexion, his fleshless cheeks, his gaunt facial bones, his dreamy eyes, his extraordinary parti-coloured hair, the puzzling contradiction between his face and figure which made him look old and young both together – were all more or less calculated to produce an unfavourable impression of him on a stranger’s mind.
Throughout the novel Jennings is depicted as "dreamy," "gaunt," and "old and young both together," all of which are also British cultural stereotypes about people of Indian descent from the 19th century. Even though Jennings isn't specifically named as having Indian heritage, Collins's imagery renders him an almost cartoonish portrait of Indian cultural stereotypes.
In Chapter 4 of Narrative 3, Collins juxtaposes the visual imagery of natural beauty with the bleak emotional landscape of the horrified Mr. Blake. This contrast foreshadows the unpleasantness of the investigations into the Moonstone's theft, while Blake believes himself to be responsible. After Blake realizes he's actually the diamond thief, having read Rosanna's letter, he stands on the shore of the Shivering Sand and notices that:
The sunlight poured its unclouded beauty on every object that I could see. The exquisite freshness of the air made the mere act of living and breathing a luxury. Even the lonely little bay welcomed the morning with a show of cheerfulness; and the bared wet surface of the quicksand itself, glittering with a golden brightness, hid the horror of its false brown face under a passing smile. It was the finest day I had seen since my return to England.
In this passage, the sensory language of "exquisite freshness" and beauty contrasts with the stale and secondhand news of the crime Blake has committed. Blake does not remember stealing the Moonstone, and it seems particularly cruel that when he discovers this shocking truth, the world around him responds by bursting into life with "a show of cheerfulness" and "golden brightness." Even the Shivering Sand (usually a site of horror and unease in this novel) has a "passing smile" and is "glittering" here. Collins uses these contrasting images to make the confusion and obscurity surrounding the startling tidings in Rosanna's letter seem even more miserable than they would otherwise.
The use of the word "glittering" is also an instance of foreshadowing as it appears in this passage. This word comes up several times in the novel: it refers to the evil Colonel Herncastle's eyes (which "glitter" with malice), the sparkling Moonstone diamond itself, and the "glitter" in the eyes of people who've taken opium. Through this word, Blake's unremembered crime is linked to all three of these things, and to the Shivering Sand itself as it "glitters" in the sun.
In the Second Chapter of Blake's Second Narrative, the reader is introduced to Ezra Jennings through visual imagery that aligns him with the novel's Indian characters. In The Moonstone, where India is described as being a site of both savagery and mystery, this can't be a good thing. In this chapter, a law clerk tells the solicitor Mr. Bruff that he's just encountered:
[...] rather a remarkable-looking man, sir. So dark in the complexion that we all set him down in the office for an Indian, or something of that sort.
This imagery recurs as a motif throughout the novel whenever Jennings first meets a new person: he's described as a "remarkable-looking man" five times. He is the novel's only mixed-race character. Collins never actually specifies what the other half of Jennings's non-English ethnicity is. However, it is strongly implied to be Indian both through the novel's other Indian contexts, and through the author's description of Jennings's nose, which has "the fine shape and modeling so common to the ancient peoples of the East." There's also the fact that other people can't seem to resist noting how "dark" he is "in the complexion."
Collins refers to the deeply divided nature of the British racial divide when the clerk says that he and his companions "set [Jennings] down in the office for an Indian": the people who are responsible for making records have metaphorically "set him down" or defined him with this identity. These descriptions of Ezra's non-English features are never praise, as everyone says Jennings is "remarkable" in his "ugliness." The word "remarkable" occurs over and over, emphasizing how different Jennings looks from his companions.
Mr Blake, in the fourth chapter of Narrative 3, also describes Jennings as unusual-looking and "remarkable":
the most remarkable-looking man that I had ever seen. Judging him by his figure and his movements, he was still young. Judging him by his face, and comparing him with Betteredge, he looked the elder of the two. His complexion was of a gipsy darkness; his fleshless cheeks had fallen into deep hollows, over which the bone projected like a pent-house. From this strange face, eyes, stranger still, of the softest brown – eyes dreamy and mournful, and deeply sunk in their orbits – looked out at you [...]
Blake's description expands on that of the clerk, noting Ezra's unusual features and adding some legal and categorizing language of his own. He "judges" Ezra first by his face, and then by "his figure and his movements." This description is so detailed that it's almost reminiscent of a witness report, furthering the sense of legal categorization. A description of Jennings recurs in Narrative 3 Chapter 9, also by Blake, as if to emphasize that Jennings's startling visual qualities are unforgettable and must somehow relate to his character:
His gipsy-complexion, his fleshless cheeks, his gaunt facial bones, his dreamy eyes, his extraordinary parti-coloured hair, the puzzling contradiction between his face and figure which made him look old and young both together – were all more or less calculated to produce an unfavourable impression of him on a stranger’s mind.
Throughout the novel Jennings is depicted as "dreamy," "gaunt," and "old and young both together," all of which are also British cultural stereotypes about people of Indian descent from the 19th century. Even though Jennings isn't specifically named as having Indian heritage, Collins's imagery renders him an almost cartoonish portrait of Indian cultural stereotypes.
In the Second Chapter of Blake's Second Narrative, the reader is introduced to Ezra Jennings through visual imagery that aligns him with the novel's Indian characters. In The Moonstone, where India is described as being a site of both savagery and mystery, this can't be a good thing. In this chapter, a law clerk tells the solicitor Mr. Bruff that he's just encountered:
[...] rather a remarkable-looking man, sir. So dark in the complexion that we all set him down in the office for an Indian, or something of that sort.
This imagery recurs as a motif throughout the novel whenever Jennings first meets a new person: he's described as a "remarkable-looking man" five times. He is the novel's only mixed-race character. Collins never actually specifies what the other half of Jennings's non-English ethnicity is. However, it is strongly implied to be Indian both through the novel's other Indian contexts, and through the author's description of Jennings's nose, which has "the fine shape and modeling so common to the ancient peoples of the East." There's also the fact that other people can't seem to resist noting how "dark" he is "in the complexion."
Collins refers to the deeply divided nature of the British racial divide when the clerk says that he and his companions "set [Jennings] down in the office for an Indian": the people who are responsible for making records have metaphorically "set him down" or defined him with this identity. These descriptions of Ezra's non-English features are never praise, as everyone says Jennings is "remarkable" in his "ugliness." The word "remarkable" occurs over and over, emphasizing how different Jennings looks from his companions.
Mr Blake, in the fourth chapter of Narrative 3, also describes Jennings as unusual-looking and "remarkable":
the most remarkable-looking man that I had ever seen. Judging him by his figure and his movements, he was still young. Judging him by his face, and comparing him with Betteredge, he looked the elder of the two. His complexion was of a gipsy darkness; his fleshless cheeks had fallen into deep hollows, over which the bone projected like a pent-house. From this strange face, eyes, stranger still, of the softest brown – eyes dreamy and mournful, and deeply sunk in their orbits – looked out at you [...]
Blake's description expands on that of the clerk, noting Ezra's unusual features and adding some legal and categorizing language of his own. He "judges" Ezra first by his face, and then by "his figure and his movements." This description is so detailed that it's almost reminiscent of a witness report, furthering the sense of legal categorization. A description of Jennings recurs in Narrative 3 Chapter 9, also by Blake, as if to emphasize that Jennings's startling visual qualities are unforgettable and must somehow relate to his character:
His gipsy-complexion, his fleshless cheeks, his gaunt facial bones, his dreamy eyes, his extraordinary parti-coloured hair, the puzzling contradiction between his face and figure which made him look old and young both together – were all more or less calculated to produce an unfavourable impression of him on a stranger’s mind.
Throughout the novel Jennings is depicted as "dreamy," "gaunt," and "old and young both together," all of which are also British cultural stereotypes about people of Indian descent from the 19th century. Even though Jennings isn't specifically named as having Indian heritage, Collins's imagery renders him an almost cartoonish portrait of Indian cultural stereotypes.
