56 pages • 1 hour read
Sharon CreechA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The slow erosion of Naomi’s belief that unexpected events are always bad is so central to her character and to the text that the origin of this belief provides the subject of the Prologue. She tells the tale Joe told so many times, of the donkey with ears that magically dispense helpful items to its impoverished owner, and she describes her fear that the man might pull out something terrible next. Naomi learns to anticipate tragedy rather than delight in possibility because so many unexpected events in her life and the lives of those close to her brought misfortune and heartbreak. A blood clot killed her mother unexpectedly the day after Naomi’s birth, prompting Naomi to feel that her mother is a stranger. Naomi’s father died after an unexpected dog attack and infection. Her guardian, Joe, dies unexpectedly of a heart attack when he’d shown no sign of illness. She learns that Nula was sent away from home at age 12 because her family “had nothing.” She knows Lizzie’s parents are dead, resulting in Lizzie’s lack of a permanent home and her dreams of being adopted. It is no wonder that the fear of the unexpected is so foundational to her character.
What Naomi fails to realize for a long time is that each of these unexpected tragedies resulted in something unexpectedly wonderful, too, and she must learn this lesson to feel, finally, at peace. When she starts to figure out the connections among the people in her community, it occurs to her that each relationship was borne out of a sense of need for the other person. If her mother and father were alive, Nula and Joe would not have needed to become her guardians. Moreover, to Nula, Naomi was “a great, unexpected surprise” (182), and Naomi confesses that she would not want to be claimed even by a blood relative because of her love for Nula. Because Nula became Naomi’s guardian—the result of Naomi’s parents’ unexpected deaths—Naomi inherits Rooks Orchard and moves to Ireland, events less likely to happen if Joe had lived. Each tragedy paves the way for Naomi to find the people she needs when she needs them, as do Nula’s and Lizzie’s. Thus, the unexpected events that feel like pure misfortune are at the root of each character’s good fortune as well.
Once Naomi learns that life is comprised of “the good and bad” (226), she feels “such freedom, such lightness” (225) that she can move past her fear and accept the good fortune she receives at Rooks Orchard. During Sybil’s funeral, Naomi says that the group “walked between sun and shadow” (198), an apt metaphor for life’s highs and lows, such as inheriting Rooks Orchard at the cost of Sybil’s passing. Naomi has long known that unexpected things can be negative, and Nula’s reassurance that “it’s okay to accept good fortune” (210) helps Naomi release some of her anxiety and long-held guilt. Naomi’s eventual ability to stand on the moon and look at the earth, noting “its smallness and its largeness” (224) rather than zeroing in on billions of crying people and their many problems, is evidence that her acceptance of the spectrum of experience is complete. It shows that if we process our experiences by identifying the good as well as the bad, we will feel less anxious about the unexpected events that come our way.
The connections among the characters of the story—most of them hidden from view by death, geography, or the passage of time—are complex and varied, illuminating how interconnected human lives are in myriad ways, whether we realize it or not. Miss Pilpenny mentions that Mr. Dingle introduced her to Sybil, and it seems that their meeting did not take place until after Margaret Scatterding (Lizzie’s mother) and Mary Deane (Naomi’s mother) had already met at Ravensworth Hospital. After all, when Miss Pilpenny sent the iron rooks to Margaret, she was already working as a nurse there, though her daughter, Lizzie, had not yet moved to Blackbird Tree. Lizzie and Naomi moved to the town under slightly different circumstances—both of Lizzie’s parents were dead, but Naomi’s father was still alive—and when the girls were different ages. Nonetheless, Lizzie and Naomi met and developed a friendship, just as their mothers had done years before in Ravensworth. Mary’s death leads Naomi to Nula, who is Sybil’s sister, just as Miss Pilpenny, now Sybil’s companion, is Margaret’s sister, so each girl is “mothered” by the sisters of Sybil and Miss Pilpenny, who also happen to have been introduced. Lizzie discovers that Margaret had once nursed Naomi, and Hazel Wiggins reveals that Naomi’s mother, Mary, was the woman Mr. Farley loved. In addition, Margaret gave Mary the iron rooks, later seen by Naomi in Mr. Farley’s rooms, prompting Naomi to make the connection between those rooks and Nula’s. So, prior to Mary’s death, both Mary, Naomi’s mother, and Nula, her eventual guardian, had a pair of iron rooks. Lizzie and Naomi didn’t know their mothers knew each other, and it seems like sheer coincidence that Naomi’s guardian’s sister, who’d be like an aunt to Naomi, is living in Ireland with Lizzie’s mother’s sister, Lizzie’s own aunt. It really does seem that “we find the people we need when we need them” (157), as Naomi says. Naomi didn’t know her mother was called Mary, having no memory of her, or that Mary ever owned a pair of iron rooks or was ever loved by Mr. Farley. She also never knew that Nula had a pair of iron rooks because Nula kept them in her trunk. Certainly, geography—in terms of Ravenswood and Blackbird Tree and Ireland and America—is partly responsible for the girls’ lack of information, as are the deaths of several close family members who might have shared or maintained their connections had they lived. The connections are also buried under bad feelings, from falling outs, grief, or something else. It is so normal for people to move away from home, to keep secrets, or to become estranged from their families that there could be no end to the hidden connections that link families, communities, and friends.
In fact, other mysterious connections do remain unexplained, such as the fact that Sybil’s cook is “Crazy” Cora’s sister and that her gardener is old man Canner’s brother, but Creech, like Naomi, seems to want “to leave room for possibilities” (212) or mysteries. Naomi doesn’t want to try to figure out everything, in part, because it simply isn’t possible to do so. Her acknowledgment that we truly know so little compared to the “the billions of things we couldn’t know” (223) shows this. This “web” of connections is intricate, indeed, and most of the links have been buried for so long that their revelation appears too strange to be true, connecting this theme to the next by emphasizing how compatible fantasy and reality are.
As a child in Blackbird Tree, Naomi had a vivid imagination, permitted by her guardians until she began to grow up; however, the existence of fantastical actualities in the text indicates that the “real” encompasses a much greater diversity of events than the culture of the town will admit. Perhaps the most compelling evidence of this is the existence of the fairy ring in Rooks Orchard and the tragedies that befall those who disturb it. The day after Finn McCoul dug up the gold from within the ring, he fell from a tree and died. Then, shortly after Naomi disturbs the ring, she learns that her home burned down following a lightning strike. Next, a fairy ring sprouts up overnight among the remains of the burned barn, suggesting a connection between Naomi’s disturbance of the ring in Rooks Orchard and the barn’s location, which was affected by her trespass. Finally, the Irish appraiser’s reluctance to touch the gold brought by Mr. Dingle suggests a real belief in fairies, often thought to be characters in stories and legends only.
Nearly as compelling as the phenomena surrounding the fairy ring is the existence of Finn, a boy who dies in Ireland and then appears in America several decades later, and the Crooked Bridge. Many hints foreshadow Finn’s spirit nature. First, no one besides Lizzie and Naomi talks about Finn, though people talk a lot about Mr. Dingle. Then, when Naomi wonders if she “could summon [Finn] just by thinking about him” (104), he magically appears. Not only does he show up at just the moment she thinks of him but he also “glided toward [her]. He floated toward [her]” (105), causing Naomi to think she’s hallucinating. She never hears him coming, and his presence doesn’t bother their livestock, which is unusual. Further, where does he go? Can he travel back and forth between Ireland and America? How does he end up in Rooks Orchard a month after Naomi and Lizzie move there? It’s mysterious and, evidently, magical. As for the Crooked Bridge, only someone who very seriously believes in the reality of evil spirits would build a bridge that allows them to evade such spirits.
Despite a preponderance of evidence of the compatibility of fantasy and reality, Naomi is compelled to give up the belief that she might experience something she read in a book, something that separates her experience in America from her later experience in Ireland. In Ireland, she and Lizzie begin to ponder the nature of the “real” because the experiences they have at Rooks Orchard directly contradict what they have been taught to expect from life. Lizzie says, “Naomi, I’m all mixed up. Are we really here? Is this real or not real?” (190). Naomi responds: “What is ‘real’?” (190). The girls are, understandably, confused by everything taking place because so much of it feels like a fairy tale rather than what they’ve been taught “real life” is like. The final moment of the text, however, supports the Irish conception of reality as something that includes all manner of seemingly fantastical things because Finn’s spirit reappears, walking in the sunlight. Creech seems to suggest that the American concept of reality elides the whimsy and magic that actually does exist all around.
By Sharon Creech