Chains

The novel begins in May 1776, just a few months shy of the start of the American Revolution and the colonies’ fight for independence. The protagonist, Isabel, finds herself also on the precipice of great change; this narrative element is common to the coming-of-age genre. As the monarchical reign over the land dies, so has the matriarch of the Finch family, leaving the two young sisters in jeopardy as a power vacuum opens up. For enslaved persons, the death of an owner is a precarious situation. Although they might find themselves free of their owner, they remain “property” within a dehumanizing institution, and their fate now lies with whoever claims the estate. Historically, lined up for the process called “valuation,” enslaved persons were assigned a price tag just like all the other possessions, including farm animals and furniture. As the colonies’ fate hangs in the balance, so do Isabel and Ruth’s. Though Mary’s will promised them their freedom, liberty will not be easily gained. This uncertain promise sets the stage for two of the novel’s key themes: the nature of freedom, and the courage needed to attain it.

In addition to the domineering presence of slavery, the cemetery’s division—into both a white and a slave side—is a grim reminder of the era’s racism. Enslaved persons were seen as not fully human and thus unworthy of burial on the same ground as their white owners. This segregation may strike contemporary readers as severe, but, historically, such racism ruled well into the 20th century. Robert Finch quickly becomes a personified symbol not only of slavery but of the historical milieu’s hostility toward Black Americans; he demonstrates his malice when he reminds Isabel to pay her respects to her owner as Isabel attempts to have a solemn moment of grief and communion with her mother.

The scene of Isabel at the cemetery says much about her larger situation. First, her offering of both flowers and the oatcake is symbolic. Flowers would be the traditional American offering, but the oatcake is both a nod to her culture and a sacrificial benefaction; Isabel is painfully hungry and presumably has little access to food, but she leaves the cake out of love for her mother. The scene also plays into the protagonist’s coming-of-age journey, as Isabel is thrust into a position of immense responsibility: Being left to care for herself and Ruth, she longs for a sign from her mother. The silence is not her desired answer, yet it points to the fate she has before her. She will need to make her own decisions and forge her path without the guidance of a trusted adult. However, though her mother has died, her presence remains in other forms; she speaks to her daughter not in a whisper from the grave but from a jar of seeds left in the Finch home. Isabel pockets a priceless tie to her past and a possible means for survival in the future. Seeds, although small, symbolize hope for future sustenance and abundance. They also represent the key to life and regeneration; in the death of a plant, it scatters its seeds for the propagation of new life to begin again.

Finch deepens his brutish characterization when he attempts to quickly sell the girls on the tavern steps. Still, the episode is partly serendipitous for the sisters as it gives them a brief moment in the kind hands of Jenny, the tavern owner’s wife. As an Irish immigrant and former indentured servant, Jenny is sympathetic to the girls’ plight—yet she also has a personal connection to their family, as she knew their mother. Like the seeds, Jenny reflects an enduring maternal presence as she provides the girls with not only a hot meal but also a few tender remembrances of Dinah that are comforting to them in their moment of upheaval and uncertainty. Though no biological family (apart from Ruth) is there for Isabel, both the seeds and Jenny create a familial presence.

When the girls beg Jenny to buy them, the author uses pathos—a moment that is meant to elicit the reader’s sorrow or compassion. Pathos pervades much of the narrative, but it is especially pronounced in the girls’ desperation to stay together and out of the clutches of some cruel stranger. The moment comes full circle when, during negotiations with the Locktons, Jenny offers to buy the girls without even thinking. Nevertheless, Anne outbids her; here, money overpowers love—the dynamic in itself is a portrait of slavery—and this only underscores a sense of hopelessness for the vulnerable sisters.