Conrad employs the simile of a "side corridor" and a metaphor referring to a mansion to contextualize an unexpected and intimate encounter between the Professor and Inspector Heat:
The only human being making use of the alley besides the Professor, coming stalwart and erect from the opposite direction, checked his swinging pace suddenly.
‘Hallo!’ he said, and stood a little on one side watchfully. [...]
It was like a meeting in a side corridor of a mansion full of life.
This simile comparing a London alley to a "side corridor of a mansion" offers readers an intriguing perspective on the encounter between these two men. In grand mansions, main rooms and hallways are the areas where the wealthy and the important interact. They are often bustling with activity. Side corridors—which are quieter and less frequented—are for servants or "side" characters, for the things that go on under the surface of the primary action. Through this simile, Conrad draws a line between the overarching vibrancy and activity of London, and the sudden isolation and quiet of the “side corridor.” It underscores the intimacy of the encounter as a private moment very close to a public space.
Thinking of London metaphorically as a "mansion full of life" allows the reader to imagine its buzz of energy, grandeur, and scale. Conrad draws a parallel between the many-roomed structure of a mansion—huge, usually old houses full of hallways, nooks, and crannies—and the bustling streets, alleys, and avenues of the capital city. By setting the quiet, tense encounter that’s about to occur in a "side corridor" tucked away inside the bustling "mansion," Conrad emphasizes the element of chance that’s always at play when characters inhabit the same space. Indeed, Heat is so unnerved by the unexpected meeting that he immediately says “I am not looking for you” upon recognizing the Professor.
As the Professor walks around London, the narrator uses simile and hyperbolic description to paint a picture of the city's overwhelming human mass. The Professor feels intensely oppressed by the crush of people and buildings:
He was in a long, straight street, peopled by a mere fraction of an immense multitude; but all round him, on and on, even to the limits of the horizon hidden by the enormous piles of bricks, he felt the mass of mankind mighty in its numbers. They swarmed numerous like locusts, industrious like ants, thoughtless like a natural force, pushing on blind and orderly and absorbed, impervious to sentiment, to logic, to terror, too, perhaps.
In this depiction of London, Conrad uses simile to compare the throngs of people to "locusts" and "ants." These comparisons achieve two major effects. Firstly, by equating the people to locusts, Conrad emphasizes their overwhelming number and their potential destructiveness. Locusts, which descend on crops to eat them and move in huge swarms, can decimate every leaf from an entire landscape in hours. Ants, similarly, pack themselves into their enormous numbers, climbing all over each other as they work industriously away at their goals. Here, Conrad is implying that the “blind, orderly” enormity of the crowd of living people around Verloc makes him feel overwhelmed and insignificant.
Secondly, by comparing the Londoners to ants, Conrad underscores the idea that the city’s full of incessant industry and single-minded purpose. To anarchists like the Professor, however, those things come at the cost of individuality. Ants work in a highly organized manner and are absolutely relentless in the pursuit of their goals. Through this simile, Conrad conveys a feeling of relentless, unending labor in London. Moreover, these comparisons also strip the people around the Professor of their human attributes, intensifying his sense of alienation from the population of the capitol.
Conrad's use of hyperbolic description in this passage further emphasizes the overwhelming nature of London's human mass. By suggesting that this mass of living things continues "on and on, even to the limits of the horizon," he gives the reader an image of an almost endless sea of humanity, so vast that it's nearly incomprehensible. The descriptors of the buildings’ enormous size, coupled with the relentless movement of people "pushing on blind and orderly and absorbed,” point to the Professor's claustrophobia and unease. Conrad’s audience is drawn into the terrorist's perspective, feeling the oppressive weight of the city's huge population.
Conrad utilizes both visual imagery invoking prison and situational irony to depict Michaelis's complicated feelings about writing his Autobiography of a Prisoner. Having retreated to the countryside, Michaelis holes himself up with his work:
It was like being in prison, except that one was never disturbed for the odious purpose of taking exercise according to the tyrannical regulations of his old home in the penitentiary. He could not tell whether the sun still shone on the earth or not. The perspiration of the literary labour dropped from his brow. A delightful enthusiasm urged him on.
Conrad's portrayal of Michaelis's experience is full of visual references to incarceration. Describing his voluntary situation as "like being in prison" evokes the tight confines of the cramped cottage he’s in. The visual imagery of smallness and imprisonment does more than paint a vivid picture of Michaelis's emotional state, however. It also offers readers a window into the psychological confines that this fragile, sensitive character faces. Michaelis is traumatized by his previous time in prison but can only complete his writing if he imprisons himself in this way.
The added detail about his uncertainty over the sun's presence further amplifies this picture of solitude. Michaelis has retreated so far from the world that he’s unsure if “the sun still shone on the earth.”
The situational irony of this passage is woven into the narrative through Michaelis's perception of prison “exercise.” Prisoners are usually confined to small cells and allowing them time to be outside and to exercise would generally be viewed as a necessary break from the monotony of prison life. Instead, Michaelis sees this “exercise” as "odious," a chore rather than a reprieve. While he was imprisoned, he resented being forced into “taking exercise,” and is glad not to have to when he’s alone in the country cottage.
There’s a further layer of situational irony in this passage given its context. Just before this, the author describes an intense discussion between Inspector Heat and the Assistant Commissioner about potentially arresting Michaelis. Heat believes he was involved in the London explosion and wants to arrest him. The Commissioner thinks this is a bad idea, especially as he’s already aware of Michaelis’s location and activities—the man has effectively imprisoned himself already, and he's protected by an important patroness.
Mr. Verloc thinks about how unlucky it was that Winnie sewed Stevie's address into his coat, which is the evidence that identifies it to the police when he’s killed. Conrad emphasizes the situational irony of the mishap with an explanatory simile:
The position was gone through no one’s fault really. A small, tiny fact had done it. It was like slipping on a bit of orange peel in the dark and breaking your leg.
The simile in this passage is a seemingly simple one. The narrator likens Mr. Verloc's unexpected and significant misfortune, caused by a small mistake, to "slipping on a bit of orange peel in the dark and breaking your leg." This comparison relates a small, seemingly insignificant action or event to more substantial, unforeseen consequences. The act of slipping on a fruit peel is typically viewed as comical. However, it takes on a darker tone when juxtaposed with the serious outcome of breaking one's leg. Small mistakes, Conrad implies, can be extremely serious. In the same vein, Winnie’s seemingly small, loving act of sewing Stevie's address into his coat leads to catastrophic outcomes for her family. This is one of many moments in The Secret Agent when small actions have disproportionately large consequences.
The situational irony in this scene is rooted in Mr. Verloc's acknowledgment of the unexpectedness of his predicament. Winnie sews Stevie’s address into the lining of his coat because he’s cognitively impaired: in Chapter 1 there’s an incident where it “becomes apparent that Stevie had forgotten his address” and he can’t get home. Winnie makes sure he can’t lose his address because she wants to keep him safe. Ironically, the address is the only thing that can identify him after he triggers the bomb and is exploded. Winnie’s husband saw the address-sewing as a small, insignificant detail, much like one would view an orange peel on the ground. Yet, this minor oversight leads to the identification of Stevie's body and the unraveling of Verloc’s plans. As such, the situational irony lies in the disproportionate consequences of such a small act. The seemingly harmless act of sewing an address into a coat morphs into a pivotal, tragic turning point for the Verloc family.
Conrad employs a simile comparing Winnie to a weary traveler to subtly hint at her internal conflict, and also to foreshadow the drama of the events that unfold after Verloc explains his plans to escape England:
There must have been something imperfect in Mrs Verloc’s sentiment of regained freedom. Instead of taking the way of the door she leaned back, with her shoulders against the tablet of the mantelpiece, as a wayfarer rests against a fence.
The simile the narrator uses here compares Mrs. Verloc's posture to "a wayfarer” that “rests against a fence." The image of a wayfarer—a traveler or wanderer—implies that Mr. Verloc is on a journey. The action of resting “against a fence” suggests a momentary pause, a gathering of strength before continuing. This comparison illuminates Winnie’s emotional state. Though she has absorbed the traumatic revelation that her husband caused her beloved brother’s death, she is not yet at her “destination.” The weariness conveyed here reinforces the reader’s sense of her profound exhaustion. She is “resting” against the “tablet of the mantelpiece” as she grapples with the facts and plans her next move.
This moment of quiet reflection—especially when coupled with the simile of an incomplete journey—serves as foreshadowing. The "imperfect" sentiment of Winnie's “regained freedom” hints that her reaction to the news about Stevie isn't complete. Her choice to rest against the mantelpiece instead of leaving the room implies hesitation, a pause before a significant action. The temporary respite Winnie takes foreshadows further confrontation and conflict, suggesting that there's more to come in her response to her husband's revelation. The reader gets a sense of looming dread, anticipating that the conversation and its aftermath are far from over. The entire scene sets the stage for Mrs. Verloc's later actions. This moment makes it clear to the reader that she has not yet fully processed or reacted to the shocking truths she's learned.
In Chapter 11, Verloc is immensely frustrated when, after the truth about Stevie’s death emerges, his wife remains silent. The narrator uses a dramatic simile to illustrate the sudden and explosive emotional response Verloc has to Winnie’s refusal to react:
‘Can’t you say something? You have your own dodges for vexing a man. Oh, yes! I know your deaf-and-dumb trick. I’ve seen you at it before today. But just now it won’t do. [...]
He advanced, and stretching out his hand, dragged the veil off, unmasking a still unreadable face, against which his nervous exasperation was shattered like a glass bubble flung against a rock.
The simile comparing Mr. Verloc's emotions to a "glass bubble" in this passage provides readers with a tangible sense of the man’s fragility and volatility. A glass bubble would be easily shattered when hit by something external. Verloc's delicate emotional state is like this bubble. Just as a bubble can hold its form until it meets a breaking point, Mr. Verloc had mostly contained his emotions until this moment of confrontation. When these pent-up emotions are "flung against a rock," they explode with an immediate and irreparable force. This is particularly telling because when Conrad introduced Mr. Verloc at the beginning of the novel, the author compared him to a “soft kind of rock.” By the end of the book, he isn’t a rock at all. Instead, he’s revealed to be an even more fragile structure which smashes against Winnie’s rock-like, implacable strength.
Winnie’s unmoving face is the “rock” that destroys the “bubble” of Verloc’s anger. His wife offers no solace or understanding for his pain or his terrible actions. Rather, she’s a stark, unmovable barrier against which Mr. Verloc's feelings crash and deflate. His anger doesn’t frighten or coax Winnie into anything. Conrad underlines the futility of Verloc’s rage with the use of the world “still.” Winnie’s face remains hard to read (it’s “still unreadable” to Verloc) and she doesn’t move or react to his violent action: she’s as “still” as a rock.
When Winnie is wandering the streets of London after her climactic stabbing scene with Mr. Verloc, she’s so despairing and exhausted that she almost collapses. To bring the reader into the moment, the narrator uses a simile referring to the sea, and a hyperbolic metaphor describing her heart:
She pushed the lamp-post away from her violently, and found herself walking. But another wave of faintness overtook her like a great sea, washing away her heart clean out of her breast.
The narrative uses a simile to describe Winnie’s emotional distress, as they recount how "another wave of faintness overtook her like a great sea." In this passage, the “sea” represents the vastness and depth of Winnie's physical distress. Seas are unpredictable, and their waves can easily overpower humans. Like an unexpected wave, the emotions engulfing Winnie keep almost knocking her off her feet. This simile articulates the size of her anguish and how her shock and dismay overwhelm her. She wasn’t expecting any of the evening’s events: it is as if she has very suddenly been caught in a riptide.
Conrad's use of hyperbole in the metaphor of the “sea” "washing away [Winnie’s] heart clean out of her breast" illustrates the profound emotional devastation she’s feeling after killing her husband. The heart is the place where emotions metaphorically reside. By suggesting that the “sea” has entirely and violently removed Winnie’s heart from her, Conrad makes the reader feel the extent of her grief and numbness. Her brother Stevie is dead through Verloc’s actions, and now Verloc is dead through Winnie’s own. While the reader understands that her heart hasn't literally been washed out, this exaggeration makes Winnie's feelings of despair quite clear. It’s also the first hint of the immense weight of her growing determination to end her own life.
