Although he and his friends are planning the boating trip to relax, J. thinks about how he often fails to take in the scenery around him. Here, he employs visual imagery to admonish himself and others for not paying attention to the view :
[Y]ou never know a moment’s freedom from anxiety and care, never gain a moment’s rest for dreamy laziness – no time to watch the windy shadows skimming lightly o’er the shallows, or the glittering sunbeams flitting in and out among the ripples, or the great trees by the margin looking down at their own image, or the woods all green and golden, or the lilies white and yellow, or the sombre-waving rushes, or the sedges, or the orchids, or the blue forget-me-nots.
The visual imagery in this passage is thick and sweet with pastoral scenes of rural England, invoking the colors of spring, flowers, trees, and other delicate, beautiful natural objects. Everything J. describes is in dainty motion or peaceful stillness, from the "windy shadows skimming lightly o’er the shallows," and "glittering sunbeams flitting in and out among the ripples," to the "great trees by the margin looking down at their own image," and "woods all green and golden.” He scolds himself for holding onto anxiety and introspection, which causes him to miss all of the glories of nature around him.
The lulling, repetitive sentence structure here echoes the content of the passage. Through it, J. implies that the onrush of beauty the world provides is endless, and that he must keep reminding himself to see it. He thinks that a relaxing boat trip will be just the ticket.
In this passage from the beginning of Chapter 7, the author uses a metaphor and visual imagery to describe a chaotic scene at the Moulsey lock. From a safe distance, J. and Harris observe the tightly packed crowd of people gathered:
I have stood and watched it sometimes, when you could not see any water at all, but only a brilliant tangle of bright blazers, and gay caps, and saucy hats, and many-coloured parasols, and silken rugs, and cloaks, and streaming ribbons, and dainty whites; when looking down into the lock from the quay, you might fancy it was a huge box into which flowers of every hue and shade had been thrown pell-mell and lay piled up in a rainbow heap that covered every corner.
A lock is a type of engineered water management system that allows boaters to artificially change the height of canals; in a sense, it's like an elevator for boats and barges. They are necessary for when people traveling on rivers need to climb or descend hills. Here, Jerome is using a metaphor combined with sensory language to paint a clear picture of all the people crowded around the lock. He compares the colorful boating attire and accessories the crowd are wearing to a jumbled collection of flowers in a box. This comparison centers on the variety and brightness of the scene; it’s chaotic, but it’s pleasant chaos. The image of a "huge box" filled with flowers "thrown pell-mell" conveys the idea of a disorganized but striking assortment of hues and textures. It’s a “rainbow heap” of boldly-dressed people milling around in their finery.
J.’s exhaustive listing of clothing items and accessories also contributes to the sense the reader gets of the packed, cheerfully busy lock. There are so many people they can’t be distinguished, and so J. is just noticing types of clothing. They aren’t individual people, they’re a “brilliant tangle of bright blazers.”
J. is captivated by the blossoming trees around Cliveden in Chapter 12. To show the reader why, the author deploys visual imagery and metaphor to depict the serene surroundings as the boat passes by Cliveden Woods:
Cliveden Woods still wore their dainty dress of spring, and rose up, from the water’s edge, in one long harmony of blended shades of fairy green. In its unbroken loveliness this is, perhaps, the sweetest stretch of all the river, and lingeringly we slowly drew our little boat away from its deep peace.
The visual imagery in this passage brings to mind the many shades of spring color reflected in the water. The reader can almost see the pink and white of the petals and the green of the grass and leaves. It’s a delicate, serene sensory experience. The description of Cliveden as a "harmony" of "fairy green" suggests an almost supernatural level of beauty, with the various shades blending together smoothly. It seemingly has no flaws, and is all “unbroken loveliness.”
The metaphor of the woods wearing a "dress" of spring further emphasizes the delicacy and youthfulness of the landscape. Cliveden Woods isn’t just in flower, but has put on its best dress to greet J., Harris, and George as they “lingeringly” sail past.
The Thames is in every chapter of this book, and is arguably itself an important character. Here, Jerome uses personification and auditory imagery to describe the sounds the river makes, making it seem like a benevolent presence:
[The river] making sweet each lane and meadow, lying tangled in the rushes, peeping, laughing, from each inlet, gleaming gay on many a far sail, making soft the air with glory – is a golden fairy stream.
This is an idyllic, romantic depiction of the Thames. Jerome describes the river as a "golden fairy stream," implying that it possesses an almost magical beauty and value. This imagery plays into the folkloric, mystical descriptions of England’s history that J. provides in other parts of the book. The Thames is more than just a lovely body of water; it has widespread effects on the landscape around it, “making sweet each lane and meadow.”
The author also attributes human-like qualities to the river here, describing it as "peeping" and "laughing." This language mimics the sounds that birds and humans make. It’s not just the living beings who play and live on the river who make these pleasant noises, but the river itself. The repetition of this language from earlier in the novel similarly reinforces the idea of the river as a living being with its own agency. It’s an active participant in the journey J. and his friends take, rather than just a means of conveyance.
