Every color has a symbolic meaning, but some shades have richer, more multilayered meanings than others. Silver is one of these colors. Its complex meaning comes from the fact that, properly speaking, silver is two different symbols: the color silver and the metal silver. If you come across silver in a poem, novel, short story, or other piece of literature, you’ll almost certainly discover multiple layers of subtext that add a special dimensionality.
Today, we’ll examine a few pieces of literature in which silver color symbolism plays a significant role.
Silver Symbolism in Poetry
Silver can be found as a color symbol across all genres of literature. However, it’s especially common in poetry. That might be because silver has been highly prized across multiple cultures. It also doesn’t hurt that the word itself has a musicality that fits in well with multiple poetic forms. Here are a few examples of the color working symbolically in poetry.
“The Silver Lily” by Louise Glück (1992)
Like many of Louise Glück’s works, “The Silver Lily” is a poem whose deep emotionality lies beneath a seemingly calm surface. And unlike many poems where the speaker seems to be the author, this one has a flower — and more specifically, a lily — for a speaker. If you have any familiarity with flowers, you might know that lilies come in an enormous variety of colors. The choice of silver as a color is an absolutely intentional one. And in this case, it’s symbolic of the hard-earned wisdom of old age.
If you were to read “The Silver Lily” without taking note of the title, you might understandably think that it was narrated by an older person. Lines like “I won’t see the next full moon” and “We have come too far together toward the end now/to fear the end./These nights, I am no longer even certain/I know what the end means” make that clear.
However, the word “silver” alone isn’t the only thing connecting the lily to the idea of wisdom. The opening lines tell us that the poem is set in autumn:
The nights have grown cool again, like the nights
of early spring, and quiet again.
In early spring, you typically won’t hear crickets, frogs, and other animals that often sing or otherwise make noise at night. In warmer weather, the nights are full of sound, and at least in many parts of the world, that sound continues through late summer. It’s only when the weather cools in autumn that the nights become quiet again.
In literature, the changing of the seasons is often symbolic of moving through seasons of life (spring is youth, summer is adulthood, autumn is old age, and winter is death). Like a wise person in their twilight years, the lily is reflecting on the past as it addresses the “you” of the poem. The symbolism of the seasons appears here, too:
In spring, when the moon rose, it meant
time was endless. Snowdrops
opened and closed, the clustered
seeds of the maples fell in pale drifts.
White over white, the moon rose over the birch tree.
And in the crook, where the tree divides,
leaves of the first daffodils, in moonlight
soft greenish-silver.
The last image in this stanza serves almost as a warning for the speaker — that even in the early years of life (“leaves of the first daffodils”), death is closer than it appears (“soft greenish-silver”). The “soft greenish-silver” is a concise and strikingly beautiful symbol of what it means to have a more balanced perspective: it’s possible to be fully present in the energy and vivacity of life while remaining cognizant of the fact that old age and ultimate death are inevitable.
“Megan Married Herself” by Caroline Bird (2017)
“Megan Married Herself” is an unusual poem, to say the least. From the title, you might assume that a person marrying themselves is some kind of metaphor or allegory. However, as you can see from the poem’s outset, Megan is quite literally marrying herself. The color silver only appears once, but because it’s in the poem’s first line, it’s clear that it has a symbolic meaning:
She arrived at the country mansion in a silver limousine.
She’d sent out invitations and everything:
her name written twice with “&” in the middle,
the calligraphy of coupling.
However, in this case, the exact nature of that symbolic meaning is not clear. Silver can have a huge range of meanings, and in this poem, it seems as though one of its less common meanings is making an appearance. Silver’s bright, nearly white sheen means that it’s sometimes symbolic of enlightenment.
For Megan, marrying herself isn’t about giving up on finding a partner — it’s the result of self-reflection and achieving a kind of personal enlightenment. As the poem continues, it also becomes clear that Megan isn’t the only person who sees the wedding that way. We see that the wedding guests genuinely share in her joy:
She strode down the aisle to “At Last” by Etta James,
faced the celebrant like a keen soldier reporting for duty,
her voice shaky yet sure. I do. I do.
“You may now kiss the mirror.” Applause. Confetti.
Every single one of the hundred and forty guests
deemed the service “unimprovable.”
Especially the vows. So “from the heart.”
As the poem goes on, we get an even deeper look into the kind of enlightened connection Megan has with herself:
Not a soul questioned their devotion.
You only had to look at them. Hand cupped in hand.
Smiling out of the same eyes. You could sense
their secret language, bone-deep, blended blood.
If you didn’t have the context of the rest of the poem, you might think that the lines above were describing a couple very much in love. The outcome of Megan’s enlightenment probably isn’t something that would appeal to most people, but for her, it seems to have brought about happiness and peace.
“Pathetic Fallacy” by Mary Karr (2006)
The title “Pathetic Fallacy” has a certain musicality to it, but it’s more than just an intriguing turn of phrase. “Pathetic fallacy” is actually a literary device where the writer attributes human emotions or actions to the non-human.
Technically speaking, the pathetic fallacy applies only to nature. One of the most common examples is saying “the sun was smiling.” “Pathetic Fallacy” might catch you by surprise because on the first reading, there’s no obvious use of the pathetic fallacy. However, when you look closely, you can see an example of the pathetic fallacy start to emerge in the final three stanzas:
Small wonder that still
in the invisible scrim of air
that delineates our separate worlds,
your features sometimes press toward me
all silvery from the afterlife, woven in wind,
to whisper a caution. Or your hand on my back
shoves me into my life.
A pathetic fallacy involves ascribing human characteristics to nature, and in this example, the speaker starts to notice human features — the features of her mother — in the air. It’s a vivid image, and because “silvery” is one of the few adjectives used, silver symbolism plays a prominent role here.
Silver often symbolizes wisdom, clarity, and even mystery. And in this poem, it’s working as a symbol of all three. The phrase “all silvery from the afterlife” conjures up images of a ghost, and the image itself manages to be both vivid and mysterious at once.
We can also see that the image is tied to wisdom and clarity. When the mother communicates with the daughter, her only goal is to offer simple, decisive advice as her daughter continues to navigate the world.
“North of Boston” by Maggie Dietz (2006)
“North of Boston” is a great example of a poem that draws you in with vivid, natural imagery. It also includes many great examples of the pathetic fallacy: “The sumac reddens like a face,” “The muscular river crawls on/its belly,” and “A deaf-mute milkweed/foaming at the mouth” are a few examples.
Silver isn’t consistently used throughout the poem, but it appears as a symbol — both implicitly and explicitly — in the first stanza:
Hoarfrost coats and cuffs
the playing fields, a heyday
of glistening. So there’s hope
in my throat as I walk across them
to the woods with my chest
flung open, spilling its coins.
The light so bright I can hear it,
a silver tone like a penny whistle.
Hoarfrost is the silvery, icy layer that often forms on trees, grass, and leaves in the morning during cold weather. On its own, this silvery frost might not seem particularly symbolic. However, the speaker says that because of the hoarfrost, “there’s hope/in my throat.” Silver is pure and bright, so in this context, it’s symbolic of the hope the speaker hears at the start of a new day. Most people are familiar with the feeling that comes with a new morning: there’s a distinct sense of promise before there’s been a chance for anything to go wrong.
Silver is also a cool-hued metallic, and in this poem, it’s also working as a symbol of the cold morning light. However, the image used is unusual from a sensory standpoint. Though the speaker is describing the sight of winter light, she uses an auditory image — “a silver tone like a penny whistle.” It might seem strange, but if you’ve ever experienced the stark white light of a frosty winter morning, you probably know exactly what the speaker means.
Silver Symbolism in Prose
Silver’s gleam has graced many poems. However, this shade still has a strong symbolic impact in the prose world. Whether it’s the central focus of a story, a repeating motif, or just a brief image, silver can transform your understanding of some of your favorite pieces of literature.
“A Silver Dish” by Saul Bellow (1978)
“A Silver Dish” is longer (and covers more ground) than your typical piece of short fiction. It follows Chicago businessman Woody Selbst as he reflects on his relationship with his father, Morris, who is dying. Woody has found success in the business world. His father, on the other hand, lived life as a petty thief and a con man. More often than not, when Morris’s actions caused harm, he tried to reframe the situation as a “life lesson” for Woody.
The story zeroes in on one particularly egregious incident. When Woody was younger and in the seminary, he had a benefactor, the wealthy Mrs. Skoglund. Morris, who was a gambler, convinced Woody that he was in urgent need of financial help and that it was reasonable to ask Mrs. Skoglund to lend him some money. Woody and Morris go to Mrs. Skoglund’s house, and while she’s gone to pray and reflect on whether or not she should lend him some money, Morris picks a cabinet lock and takes a small, solid silver dish.
Woody calls him on it, but Morris reassures him: “It’s only insurance in case she comes back from praying and tells me no. If she says yes, I’ll put it back.”
But ultimately, Mrs. Skoglund agrees to lend Morris the money, and he keeps the dish anyway. The way he reacts when confronted says a lot about his character, as does his complete lack of concern for how his actions have impacted his son:
Only, Pop had taken the silver dish. Of course he had, and in a few days Mrs. Skoglund and Hjordis knew it, and later in the week they were all waiting for Woody in Kovner’s office at the settlement house. The group included the Reverend Dr. Crabbie, head of the seminary, and Woody, who had been flying along, level and smooth, was shot down in flames. He told them he was innocent. Even as he was falling, he warned that they were wronging him. He denied that he or Pop had touched Mrs. Skoglund’s property. The missing object—he didn’t even know what it was—had probably been misplaced, and they would be very sorry on the day it turned up. After the others were done with him, Dr. Crabbie said until he was able to tell the truth he would be suspended from the seminary, where his work had been unsatisfactory anyway. Aunt Rebecca took him aside and said to him, “You are a little crook, like your father. The door is closed to you here.”
To this Pop’s comment was “So what, kid?”
The situation shows us something surprising about Woody, too. He seems sincere and earnest for the most part, but in this situation, it becomes clear that, like his father, he’s willing to be deceitful when it protects his own interests.
That’s where the silver symbolism comes in. Silver is sometimes a symbol of purity. And just as Woody — who is pursuing the pure, good-hearted goal of completing the seminary — is being supported by Mrs. Skoglund, the little silver dish is secure in Mrs. Skoglund’s locked cabinet. Morris makes short work of picking the lock on the cabinet to take the dish, and unfortunately, he does the same when it comes to corrupting his son. Both Woody and the silver dish are forever removed from Mrs. Skoglund’s home.
Although the story doesn’t dwell on it, we can see that as an adult, Woody has taken after his father in other unsavory ways. He has both a wife and mistress, and he’s also been involved in illegal drug smuggling. Of course, stealing a small silver dish isn’t an incredibly serious crime. So it’s fitting that although Morris has had a corrupting influence on Woody, he hasn’t made his son irredeemable.
“Les Misérables” by Victor Hugo (1862)
Many people who haven’t read “Les Misérables” are familiar with it anyway thanks to the Broadway musical of the same name. The novel is long, complex, and rife with symbolism, but one of the most meaningful symbols is that of the silver candlesticks. These candlesticks are symbolic of grace, opportunity, and ultimately, redemption.
Jean Valjean, a central character in the book, is imprisoned for 19 years after he steals bread to feed his sister’s children. Upon his release, he is treated as an outcast. However, a kind-hearted bishop gives him a meal and a place to stay. Despite that kind treatment, Valjean steals the bishop’s silver and flees into the night. The bishop’s attitude toward the theft is surprisingly charitable:
The Bishop remained silent for a moment; then he raised his grave eyes, and said gently to Madame Magloire:—
“And, in the first place, was that silver ours?”
Madame Magloire was speechless. Another silence ensued; then the Bishop went on:—
“Madame Magloire, I have for a long time detained that silver wrongfully. It belonged to the poor. Who was that man? A poor man, evidently.”
Silver (as both a color and a metal) signifies something precious. And in this particular instance, that precious thing is opportunity. The bishop’s forgiving attitude and his mention that he has “wrongfully detained” silver from the poor indicates that he understands that very poor people like Valjean often have far fewer opportunities than those with more wealth.
Later in the book, silver’s status as a symbol of grace, mercy, and redemption becomes even more clear. After Valjean steals the silver, he is arrested. However, in order to save Valjean from doing time in prison, the bishop tells the police that the silver was a gift. As Valjean begins to leave, the bishop hands him two candlesticks and urges him to abandon his life of crime and live honestly:
The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice:—
“Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money in becoming an honest man.”
Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything, remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he uttered them. He resumed with solemnity:—
“Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”
Valjean takes this advice to heart and becomes honest and virtuous. He always keeps the candlesticks as a reminder of the bishop’s act of kindness that forever changed the trajectory of his life.
“The Silver Chair” by C.S. Lewis (1953)
If you grew up reading C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia, you might already be familiar with “The Silver Chair,” one of the seven books in the series. In this book, two children named Eustace Scrubb and Jill Pole are sent to Narnia to find the missing Prince Rilian. They’re sent by Aslan, Narnia’s creator, and given several signs to look for as they search for Prince Rilian.
Their journey takes many twists and turns, but eventually, the children find their way into “Underland,” an underground civilization. That’s where they come to the central symbol: the silver chair:
The main door was now shut, concealing the curtain between which they had first entered. The knight was seated in a curious silver chair, to which he was bound by his ankles, his knees, his elbows, his wrists and his waist. There was sweat on his forehead and his face was filled with anguish.
“Come in, friends,” he said, glancing quickly up. “The fit is not yet upon me. Make no noise, for I told that prying chamberlain that you were in bed. Now… I can feel it coming. Quick! Listen while I am master of myself. When the fit is upon me, it well may be that I shall beg and implore you, with entreaties and threatenings, to loosen my bonds. They say I do. I shall call upon you by all that is most dear and most dreadful. But do not listen to me. Harden your hearts and stop your ears. For while I am bound you are safe. But if once I were up and out of this chair, then first would come my fury, and after that”—he shuddered—”the change into a loathsome serpent.”
The two start to see the knight change before their eyes. He claims that he has been trapped in the Underland by an enchantment and implores Eustace and Jill to free him. They refuse until he asks them to free him “in the name of Aslan.” Eustace and Jill recognize this as one of the signs Aslan has given them, and they free the knight. He reveals himself to be the missing Prince Rilian, and he immediately destroys the silver chair.
In this instance, silver is used to symbolize the magic and powers of enchantment connected to the chair. After all, the story likely wouldn’t have the same mysterious allure if the chair were beige. In the world of Narnia, the chair possesses literal magic, but that magic has parallels in the real world. In this sense, the chair is a symbol of self-deception. For example, many people find themselves drawn to addictive substances (just as many people would be drawn to a beautiful silver chair). Those things start to trap them, but when self-deception is strong enough, it’s possible to keep coming back — just like the prince returns willingly to the chair each night to be bound.
“Silver Blaze” by Arthur Conan Doyle (1892)
“Silver Blaze” is one of Arthur Conan Doyle’s most popular Sherlock Holmes stories. It follows Sherlock Holmes as he solves a case involving Silver Blaze, a champion racehorse. On the day before the Wessex Cup, a major race, Silver Blaze has gone missing, and his trainer is found dead on the moor with a serious blow to the head.
Over the course of the investigation, Holmes finds out that what looked like the murder of a trainer and the theft of a horse was actually something much different. To start, Silver Blaze had been successfully hidden the whole time. Silas Brown, trainer of Desborough, the second-favorite to win the Wessex Cup, found the horse wandering the moor and dyed Silver Blaze’s markings dark, intending to hide him until the race was over. That way, Desborough would win, and Silver Blaze could then be returned unharmed.
Holmes also figures out that John Straker, Silver Blaze’s trainer, was not murdered:
“You cannot have forgotten the singular knife which was found in the dead man’s hand, a knife which certainly no sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as Dr. Watson told us, a form of knife which is used for the most delicate operations known in surgery. And it was to be used for a delicate operation that night. You must know, with your wide experience of turf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slight nick upon the tendons of a horse’s ham, and to do it subcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace. A horse so treated would develop a slight lameness, which would be put down to a strain in exercise or a touch of rheumatism, but never to foul play.”
Straker had bet against Silver Blaze in the Wessex Cup, and he was attempting to fix the race by causing temporary lameness in the horse. However, Silver Blaze kicked and killed him before wandering off and being found by Silas Brown.
Holmes figured out the scheme and still ran Silver Blaze in the race, but he waited until after the race was over (and Silver Blaze had won) to tell the horse’s owner.
So where does silver symbolism come into play here? Despite his name, Silver Blaze is not a silver-colored horse. His name instead refers to a silvery-white blaze running down his face. The silver is symbolic of his value — anyone who sees the silver-white blaze down his face knows that this is Silver Blaze, the champion racehorse. However, when his white markings are covered as they are when he’s hidden, Silver Blaze doesn’t stand out to anyone — he’s just another horse.
Silver also can work as a symbol of truth and clarity. When Silver Blaze has his markings covered up, there is a great deal of confusion as to where he is and what has happened to him. However, just as Sherlock Holmes’s assessment of the murky situation brings the truth to light, removing the dye from Silver Blaze’s markings reveals that what seemed like any other thoroughbred is, in fact, the legendary racehorse.
Let Silver Transform Your Reading Experience
Color symbolism always enhances a piece of literature. But it adds even more dimensionality when the color is one as lustrous and culturally significant as silver. The next time you discover a new book or pick up an old favorite, keep an eye out for silver and the glimmer of subtext that comes with it.
Continue exploring and discover what all the other colors mean in literature.
