It's easy enough to say, "Show, don't tell," but how exactly do you pull it off? Welty provides excellent examples of how to use action and figurative language to convey a character's emotions. For instance, early in the second section, Fay asserts her right over Laurel to decide what will be done with Judge McKelva's body. The scene also confirms the fact that Fay will take over the judge's house now that he has died: Laurel has essentially lost all rights to her childhood home. She bears the affront stoically, displaying her good Southern manners, but the scene's action and a well-placed symbol, reveal her feelings nonetheless:
"I'm Mr. Pitts, hope you remember me," said the businessman, appearing at Laurel's other side. "Now what would you like done with your father?" When she didn't speak, he went on, "May we have him in our parlor? Or would you prefer him to repose at the residence?""My father? Why -- at his home," said Laurel, stammering.
"At the residence. Until the hour of services. As was the case with the first Mrs. McKelva," said the man.
"I'm Mrs. McKelva now. If you're the undertaker, you do your business with me," said Fay.
Tish Bullock winked at Laurel. It was a moment before she remembered: this was the bridesmaids' automatic signal in moments of acute joy or distress, to show solidarity.
There was a deep boom, like the rolling of an ocean wave. The hearse door had been slammed shut.
Welty signals Laurel's distress by her response to the undertaker: she hesitates and she stammers. Tish's wink confirms our suspicion that the moment must be an emotional one for Laurel despite her reserve. Finally, Welty introduces the symbol of the ocean to stand in for Laurel's unstated emotions.
After her father dies, Fay arranges to have him buried not beside Laurel's mother, but in the plot furthest from her, one near a new highway. Throughout the viewing of the body and the funeral, Laurel remains composed. Again, Welty signals Laurel's distress through external clues alone. For instance, twice she refers to her inability to register what the minister is saying: "Again Laurel failed to hear what came from his lips. She might not even have heard the high school band." And again, at a moment of acute distress, Welty refers to the ocean, and hints that Laurel's grief is part of a larger human sorrow: "Sounds from the highway rolled in upon her with the rise and fall of eternal ocean waves. They were as deafening as grief." (50)
In case this isn't enough to assure us that Laurel has feelings, Welty offers a few more signs before she leaves the cemetery. First there is the simile, "Windshields flashed into her eyes like light through tears" (92). Then Laurel sees her father's cook, Missouri, and "walks into" her arms. Welty doesn't linger on this display of emotion, however, but shifts her gaze immediately to a symbol of rebirth and the promise of youth: "In the wake of their footsteps, the birds settled again. Down on the ground, they were starlings, all on the waddle, pushing with the yellow bills of spring" (93).
Conclusion
This image presages the novel's final image, that of children waving good-bye to Laurel. Thus, The Optimist's Daughter is ultimately a hopeful novel, falling on the side of optimism, not despair. It's worth noting, however, that Welty doesn't spell out her symbols for her readers, but trusts them to puzzle them out on their own. And perhaps that's the biggest lesson to take away from her work, or any work that successfully conveys emotion and avoids sentimentality. Portray the action and use figurative language as you can, and then let the reader do the work. Your scenes will be more powerful as a result, and your reader will leave feeling moved rather than manipulated.
