Throughout Winesburg, Ohio, Anderson returns to the imagery of flame—usually as a metaphor to represent the power of life or the incendiary energy of a life force. Early on in the collection, in “Mother,” Anderson uses flame imagery to describe Elizabeth Willard’s wavering health:
She had been ill in bed for several days and her son had not come to visit her. She was alarmed. The feeble blaze of life that remained in her body was blown into a flame by her anxiety and she crept out of bed, dressed and hurried along the hallway toward her son’s room, shaking with exaggerated fears.
In this passage, the description of Elizabeth’s remaining life as a “feeble blaze” recalls a dying fire or sputtering candle—enabling Anderson to better characterize Elizabeth’s activation after George’s neglect, portraying it as a flame bursting back to life when given oxygen. Anderson returns to this imagery a short while later, in “The Strength of God,” when the town reverend, Curtis Hartman, considers the strength of his faith: "He wondered if the flame of the spirit really burned in him and dreamed of a day when a strong sweet new current of power would come like a great wind into his voice and his soul[...]." In this case, Anderson uses fire imagery in keeping with a traditional Christian metaphor: the idea of an inner fire has long been used to represent faith or the strength of one’s faith.
A few stories later, Anderson uses fire imagery again—this time, to represent Tom Foster’s passion for Helen White in “Drink”:
Tom left his room on Duane Street just as the young night began to make itself felt. First he walked through the streets, going softly and quietly along, thinking thoughts that he tried to put into words. He said that Helen White was a flame dancing in the air and that he was a little tree without leaves standing out sharply against the sky.
In "Drink," Anderson makes Helen's power a literal force of nature and guiding light for the many boys who fall in love with her. Although there's no shortage of grief, desolation, and depression in Winesburg, the return to the image of the fire within reminds the reader of life's resiliency and the tendency of hope, love, passion, or faith to spring up unexpectedly—although it can be extinguished just as easily.
Throughout Winesburg, Ohio, Anderson returns to the imagery of flame—usually as a metaphor to represent the power of life or the incendiary energy of a life force. Early on in the collection, in “Mother,” Anderson uses flame imagery to describe Elizabeth Willard’s wavering health:
She had been ill in bed for several days and her son had not come to visit her. She was alarmed. The feeble blaze of life that remained in her body was blown into a flame by her anxiety and she crept out of bed, dressed and hurried along the hallway toward her son’s room, shaking with exaggerated fears.
In this passage, the description of Elizabeth’s remaining life as a “feeble blaze” recalls a dying fire or sputtering candle—enabling Anderson to better characterize Elizabeth’s activation after George’s neglect, portraying it as a flame bursting back to life when given oxygen. Anderson returns to this imagery a short while later, in “The Strength of God,” when the town reverend, Curtis Hartman, considers the strength of his faith: "He wondered if the flame of the spirit really burned in him and dreamed of a day when a strong sweet new current of power would come like a great wind into his voice and his soul[...]." In this case, Anderson uses fire imagery in keeping with a traditional Christian metaphor: the idea of an inner fire has long been used to represent faith or the strength of one’s faith.
A few stories later, Anderson uses fire imagery again—this time, to represent Tom Foster’s passion for Helen White in “Drink”:
Tom left his room on Duane Street just as the young night began to make itself felt. First he walked through the streets, going softly and quietly along, thinking thoughts that he tried to put into words. He said that Helen White was a flame dancing in the air and that he was a little tree without leaves standing out sharply against the sky.
In "Drink," Anderson makes Helen's power a literal force of nature and guiding light for the many boys who fall in love with her. Although there's no shortage of grief, desolation, and depression in Winesburg, the return to the image of the fire within reminds the reader of life's resiliency and the tendency of hope, love, passion, or faith to spring up unexpectedly—although it can be extinguished just as easily.
