What Is The Significance Of Colors In 'The Astonishing Color Of After'?

Colors in 'The Astonishing Color of After' aren't just visual elements—they're emotional anchors. The protagonist Leigh perceives her mother's afterlife through vivid hues, each shade representing a memory or feeling. Red symbolizes love and grief, appearing as her mother's spirit takes the form of a crimson bird. Blue reflects moments of clarity and sadness, like the ocean waves carrying her mother's voice. Even mundane objects burst with meaning—a yellow taxi becomes hope, a black piano turns into loss. The novel paints grief as a spectrum, showing how colors can bridge the gap between the living and the dead in ways words never could.

The color symbolism in 'The Astonishing Color of After' is a masterclass in using sensory details to explore mental health and cultural identity. Leigh's synesthesia turns emotions into colors, creating a unique language for her Taiwanese-American experience. When she visits Taiwan, the palette shifts—golden temple roofs represent ancestral connections, while the neon greens of night markets mirror her confusion between two cultures.

Her mother's depression is depicted through fading colors, with gray dominating memories of her final days. In contrast, the afterlife bursts with impossible shades like 'the pink of new skin' or 'a purple deeper than bruises,' suggesting healing beyond death. The novel cleverly uses color to contrast Eastern and Western mourning traditions—red envelopes versus black funeral attire—highlighting Leigh's struggle to reconcile both worlds.

What's brilliant is how colors evolve. Early chapters use muted tones, but as Leigh processes grief, Taiwan's landscapes become saturated. A single red thread ties her to her mother's stories, while white jasmine flowers symbolize forgiveness. The chromatic journey mirrors Leigh's acceptance that some emotions, like her mother's love, remain vibrant even in absence.

Reading 'The Astonishing Color of After' feels like walking through an emotional kaleidoscope. The author doesn't just describe colors—she makes them tactile. When Leigh bites into a lychee and tastes 'the pink of childhood summers,' you remember your own flavor-color memories. The crimson bird isn't merely red; it pulses like a heartbeat, leaving shimmering trails only Leigh can see.

Colors serve as time machines. A whiff of turquoise incense transports Leigh to her mother's art studio, while the sickly green of hospital walls replays trauma. Even food becomes symbolic—sticky rice dyed blue with butterfly pea flowers represents cultural roots, and the charred black of misburned offerings shows imperfect love.

The magic lies in ambiguity. Some colors shift meaning—white can be a funeral shroud or a blank canvas for new beginnings. Leigh's art teacher once said, 'Mix all grief's colors and you get light,' foreshadowing how her palette eventually brightens. This isn't color theory; it's alchemy, transforming pain into something luminous.