Why Might A Novel Writer Choose To Use Dialect

In 'Hold Tight', Harlan Coben uses symbolism masterfully to deepen the narrative. One of the most striking symbols is the recurring image of the locked door, representing the secrets and barriers between characters. It’s not just physical locks but emotional ones too, like the way parents try to protect their kids by keeping them in the dark. The locked door becomes a metaphor for the tension between safety and freedom. Another symbol is the storm that hits during a crucial scene, mirroring the chaos in the characters’ lives. Coben doesn’t hit you over the head with these symbols; they’re woven subtly into the story, making you think about the layers of meaning. If you enjoy this kind of layered storytelling, 'Gone Girl' by Gillian Flynn uses symbolism in a similarly gripping way.

to save Armin instead. There are a couple of reasons behind his decision. First, Erwin's emotional destruction was clear to see. Bringing Erwin back would condemn him to a world of pain, Levi knew. So greater pity is that he should be resurrected than saved at all. Besides, Armin was shown as representing hope in the novel – the one who could really save humanity. As a character Armin was portrayed as the embodiment of hope. This “hope incarnate” and ability to save mankind Levi didn't have any intention of destroying him now. For that future is Armin's. His strategic mind and the hope he held seemed to predict a brighter prospect than bringing a war-toughened leader like Erwin back.

In 'East of Eden', Steinbeck’s use of symbolism is deeply tied to the biblical narrative of Cain and Abel, which mirrors the struggles of the Trask and Hamilton families. The land itself is a powerful symbol—fertile yet demanding, representing both opportunity and burden. The Salinas Valley, with its contrasting landscapes, reflects the duality of human nature: good and evil, love and hatred, creation and destruction. Steinbeck also uses names symbolically, like 'Cathy Ames', whose initials 'C.A.' evoke 'Cain', hinting at her inherent malevolence. The recurring motif of 'timshel'—Hebrew for 'thou mayest'—becomes a central symbol of free will, suggesting that individuals have the power to choose their path despite their inherited nature. This theme resonates throughout the novel, emphasizing the possibility of redemption and the complexity of human morality. Another layer of symbolism lies in the characters’ relationships with the land. Adam Trask’s failed attempt to irrigate the valley symbolizes his inability to nurture his family, while Samuel Hamilton’s innovative but unprofitable inventions reflect his idealism and struggle against harsh realities. The novel’s rich symbolism invites readers to explore deeper meanings, connecting personal struggles to universal themes of choice, identity, and destiny.

As a passionate reader and researcher of Greek literature, I've noted that Homer's 'The Odyssey' is a treasure trove of philosophical and moral insights that reflect ancient Greek values. Firstly, the narrative highlights the importance of hospitality ('Xenia') in Greek society, and this is depicted in Odysseus' reception at various homes during his journey. Secondly, the concept of 'Arete', excellence or virtue, is repeatedly emphasized primarily through Odysseus's heroic deeds, wise decision-making, and supremacy in battle. Perserverance, or 'Atë' is another value seen in Odysseus' Against-all-odds determination in returning to Ithaca despite numerous obstacles. Lastly, 'Themis' or divine justice is a recurring theme: punishments are meted out for transgressions, reflecting the Greeks' belief in a fair and just divine order.

The author of the romance novel uses symbolism in a way that feels almost effortless, weaving it into the narrative so subtly that you don’t even realize how deeply it’s affecting you until later. One of the most striking examples is the recurring image of a broken clock in the protagonist’s childhood home. It’s not just a nostalgic relic; it’s a metaphor for the relationship itself—stuck in a moment of time, unable to move forward, yet still holding the memory of what once worked. Every time the protagonist passes it, you can feel the weight of their past, the way they’re both clinging to something that no longer ticks. It’s not just about time lost; it’s about the possibility of repair, of winding it back up and letting it run again. Another powerful symbol is the garden the protagonist tends to throughout the story. At first, it’s overgrown and wild, mirroring the chaos of their emotions. But as they begin to reconnect with their love interest, the garden starts to change. They prune it, plant new seeds, and slowly, it becomes a place of beauty. It’s not just a garden; it’s a reflection of their heart, of the effort it takes to nurture something back to life. The author doesn’t hit you over the head with it, but the parallels are there, and they’re incredibly moving. Then there’s the recurring motif of rain. It’s not just weather; it’s a cleansing force, symbolizing renewal and the washing away of old wounds. There’s a scene where the couple gets caught in a sudden downpour, and instead of running for cover, they stay out in it, laughing and letting themselves get soaked. It’s a moment of catharsis, of letting go of the past and embracing the present. The rain becomes a symbol of their willingness to start fresh, to let the old pain be washed away. The author also uses objects like a worn-out blanket and a cracked teacup to symbolize the fragility and resilience of love. The blanket, though threadbare, still provides warmth, just like their relationship, which, despite its flaws, still holds a deep connection. The cracked teacup, on the other hand, is a reminder that even broken things can still hold beauty and purpose. It’s a subtle nod to the idea that perfection isn’t necessary for love to thrive. If you’re into novels that use symbolism to deepen the emotional impact, I’d recommend checking out 'The Night Circus' by Erin Morgenstern. It’s a masterclass in weaving symbols into a narrative, creating a world that feels both magical and deeply meaningful. And if you’re more into films, 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' does something similar, using visual metaphors to explore the complexities of love and memory. Both are perfect for anyone who appreciates layers of meaning in their stories.

In 'novel and novel', the author’s use of symbolism is subtle yet deeply impactful, weaving layers of meaning into the narrative that resonate long after you’ve turned the last page. One of the most striking symbols is the recurring image of the broken clock in the protagonist’s childhood home. It’s not just a relic of the past; it’s a metaphor for time standing still, for the moments in life that feel frozen, unresolved. Every time the protagonist revisits that clock, it’s a reminder of how they’re stuck in a cycle, unable to move forward. The clock isn’t just broken—it’s a mirror of their own fractured sense of time and progress. Another powerful symbol is the river that runs through the town. It’s not just a backdrop; it’s a living, breathing force that mirrors the emotional currents of the characters. When the protagonist is at their lowest, the river is described as turbulent, almost violent. But in moments of clarity or peace, it’s calm, almost serene. The river becomes a way to externalize the internal, to show what the characters can’t always say. It’s a brilliant way to make the emotional landscape of the story tangible. The use of color is also worth noting. The author doesn’t just describe scenes; they paint them with meaning. The recurring use of red, for instance, isn’t just about passion or danger—it’s about the intensity of emotion, the moments that burn brightest in memory. When the protagonist’s love interest wears a red scarf, it’s not just a fashion choice; it’s a signal, a flare in the darkness that draws the protagonist back to them. The color becomes a language of its own, a way to communicate what words can’t. What I love most about the symbolism in 'novel and novel' is how it’s never heavy-handed. It’s woven into the fabric of the story so seamlessly that you might not even notice it at first. But when you do, it’s like discovering a hidden layer, a secret code that deepens your understanding of the characters and their journey. It’s the kind of storytelling that rewards close reading, that makes you want to go back and piece together all the clues. If you’re into novels that use symbolism to enrich the narrative, I’d also recommend 'The Night Circus' by Erin Morgenstern. It’s a masterclass in using imagery and metaphor to create a world that feels both magical and deeply human. And for something more grounded but equally symbolic, 'The Great Gatsby' by F. Scott Fitzgerald is a classic that uses objects and settings to reflect the inner lives of its characters. Both books, like 'novel and novel', show how symbolism can elevate a story from good to unforgettable.

In 'The Stranger', Coben builds suspense by dropping cryptic hints that something’s off from the very start. The stranger’s revelation to Adam about his wife’s secret is like a pebble tossed into a still pond—ripples of tension spread through every scene. Coben doesn’t just rely on the big reveal; he layers in smaller, unsettling details. Adam’s paranoia grows as he digs deeper, and the reader feels that same unease. The pacing is tight, with short chapters that end on cliffhangers, making it impossible to put down. Coben’s knack for weaving everyday life with dark secrets keeps you guessing until the very end. If you’re into psychological thrillers, 'Gone Girl' by Gillian Flynn has a similar vibe of unraveling truths.

if you're in the mood for some good old traditional grammar rules, go with 'whomever' when it's the object of a verb or preposition. An easy trick is to replace 'whomever' with 'him' in your sentence. If 'him' sounds right, the 'whomever' it is! For example,'The prize will be given to whomever completes the task first.' ('The prize will be given to him.')