The Last Days of Night

Paul’s pen appears as a symbol of his tenacity and work ethic. This emerges in the very first chapter, as Paul fails to leave for his apartment at the end of his workday, “and instead penned so many notes with his rubber Waterman that the blister popped on his right middle finger” (7). Paul is sacrificing some needs (here, represented physically) in the service of his career. His perspective on this fact is never regretful, although he does consider his profession to be that of a day laborer to the rich, toiling with his pen rather than a shovel.

His writing hand becomes the outward expression of the sacrifices he’s made within his life choices. Pining for Agnes one night, “[h]e looked to the impossible stack of papers on his desk. This is what is required of the victorious, he reminded himself. He remained at the office late that night, till his writing hand was useless, and he didn’t sleep well” (88).

Characters’ wardrobes reflect their deeper values within the novel. Paul painstakingly cares for his only nice dinner jacket, carrying it carefully on his train rides to Pittsburgh and wearing it for every luxurious event.