Rags to Riches, Winter to Spring

E very spring, I take great delight in watching the woods behind my parents’ home transform from bare grey to lush greenery. The very beginning of that transformation, though, always stumped me. How could I describe the faint hues and tints I saw spreading across the underbrush and lawn? Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden gave me the exact phrase I wanted: “Perhaps the leaves are beginning to break out and uncurl—and perhaps — the gray is changing and a green gauze veil is creeping — and creeping over — everything.”

If you read The Secret Garden as a child, you might not have found Mary Lennox a particularly likeable heroine. Her initial sour looks, rude ways, and unkind thoughts don’t immediately endear her to readers, but hidden beneath this unfriendly exterior is a small girl longing for companionship and purpose. Born in India, Mary is the unwanted daughter of a busy military man and his pleasure-seeking wife. The little girl is handed over to servants who are instructed to keep her quiet and out of the way — an arrangement that leaves her spoiled, selfish, and unloved. When her parents die in a cholera epidemic, nine-year-old Mary is sent to England to live with Archibald Craven, an uncle she’s never met, at his home, Misselthwaite Manor.

Our unlikely heroine is met with mystery at Misselthwaite, from rumors of her uncle’s being a hunchback, to unexplained cries in the night, to a locked garden no one has entered for ten years. It is this last mystery that captures Mary’s imagination and becomes the driving force behind the tale. After much searching, she manages to find both the key and the door to this hidden garden, and it becomes her private sanctum. She even manages to gain permission from her uncle, without revealing the location, to cultivate the garden as her “bit of earth.”

Mary has never thought of anyone but herself until she arrives at Misselthwaite. She has never been given a task or had anything expected of her — she couldn’t even dress herself without a maid’s help. In the course of the tale, we see both Mary and her “bit of earth” blossom and come into their own. To both, there is still a wild, untamed side, but each comes alive, growing beautiful and nourishing others. But Mary (together with her garden) doesn’t transform on her own. The lively tongue of Martha, the magic of Dickon, the imperiousness of Colin, the grouchiness of Old Ben Weatherstaff, and, I believe most importantly, the sauciness of a Robin Redbreast mold her character and give her purpose.

One aspect of this book that didn’t catch my attention until a recent rereading was an odd, quasi-religious healing ritual Mary and Dickon perform on Colin. While it is a very tame scene and would not prevent me from recommending the story wholeheartedly, it does give some insight into the author’s ideas about religion and nature.

Born Frances Hodgson in Manchester, England, in 1849, this author led quite a busy, exhausting life. The middle of five children, Frances, like the characters in some of her tales, had a kind of rags-to-riches story. After her father’s untimely death, the family moved around England a few times before emigrating to Tennessee. Frances would spend the rest of her life alternating between residences in the U.S. and the U.K.

From a young age, Frances was a gifted storyteller, both orally and in writing. When the family fell on difficult times in Tennessee, she became the breadwinner, publishing stories in Godey’s Lady’s Magazine and elsewhere. Her writings, at first aimed at adults, were popular, and some even became successful stage productions. After a meeting with Louisa May Alcott and Mary Mapes Dodge, Frances began writing children’s stories for St. Nicholas Magazine, and these were hugely successful. Though now eclipsed in popularity by The Secret Garden, her first children’s novel (originally serialized in St. Nicholas Magazine), Little Lord Fauntleroy, was a major hit, and instigated a boys’ fashion craze for long curls, ruffles, and velvet suits that probably frustrated the poor youths.

Burnett married twice and was divorced twice; had two sons, one of whom died of tuberculosis at a young age; dabbled in Spiritualism, Christian Science, and Theosophy; at various times lived in Bermuda, D.C., New York, and England; was an enthusiastic gardener, as recounted in a recent book, Unearthing the Secret Garden, by Marta McDowell; and maintained an extravagant lifestyle — all rather exciting for a woman now primarily remembered for her children’s tales.

For my tenth or eleventh birthday, a dear friend and fellow bookworm presented me with a paperback copy of Burnett’s A Little Princess (1905). It is with slight trepidation that I say it rivals Little Women as my favorite, most-read book (specifically the Tasha Tudor–illustrated edition). Most read, certainly: My younger sister complained to me last week that she was struggling to read it, as the pages are literally falling out of my 15-year-old copy.

The story of Sara Crewe has never ceased to charm me. And while some may comment on its supposed preachiness, it deserves no such censure. A classic “rags to riches” tale, this book tells of Sara, the only daughter of a doting, wealthy father. Born in India, Sara leaves it for England when she’s seven, accompanied by her father, who is placing her at a girls’ boarding school. This school, run by the cold, stern Miss Minchin, introduces many interesting characters to the reader and is the backdrop for the entire novel.

Sara is the girl you wish you were and the friend we all want to have. Described as “old-fashioned” and “odd,” she is a clever child who delights in learning. She is also deeply generous and genuinely interested in others. Ermengarde, the school dunce, Lottie, the school crybaby, and Becky, the scullery maid, quickly find a defender, surrogate mother, and friend in Sara. She has a passionate nature and works hard to control her temper, especially when provoked by Miss Minchin or the school’s bully, Lavinia. Our heroine is also blessed with a vivid imagination, an ability that helps her in times of trial, and she is a gifted storyteller. Even though she is provided for and treated like a princess and is the school’s star pupil, she misses her father. Her noble nature and budding courage, especially in the face of her father’s death and her subsequent plunge into servitude, are an inspiration to readers of all ages.

Fabulous wealth, old secrets, wise dolls, cascading roses — these and so much more are woven into Frances Hodgson Burnett’s timeless books, and each reading will bring back those magic moments of childhood.