Because everyone loves a good story
Coming of Age: Death in Peter Pan
A broken bird. An old dog. A beloved grandparent. A child’s first experience with death may not affect them in the same way it would an adult, but it will certainly draw them from innocence toward reality.
In coming-of-age stories and in life, three factors play a major role: first love, death, and family. We looked at first love last time as Peter Pan remained oblivious to Wendy’s crush and as Jody Baxter felt both disgust and possessiveness toward Eulalie Boyles. First love can be complicated, but at least it’s usually lighthearted.
But today’s topic is a harsh reality—probably the harshest in the human experience. When children first encounter death, it leaves an indelible mark on their hearts. It makes them start to wonder about things they’d never thought of before. Why did they die? Where did they go? Who else is going to die? Peter Pan and The Yearling deal with death in different ways, so let’s see how the experiences drew the characters toward maturity. Today we’ll take time to look at Peter Pan, and we’ll delve into The Yearling next time.
Peter’s Discomfort with Death
You know Peter Pan as the boy who won’t grow up. He flat-out refuses to accept aging and change, and this includes a refusal to accept death—well, certain kinds of death. Many little boys are obsessed with war and fighting, and Peter is no exception. He fights pirates and Indians and anyone else who gets in his way. The book makes it clear that he kills his enemies all the time. Bloody slaughter in battle doesn’t seem to bother Peter in the least.
But the death of people he cares about is too hard to process. Instead, he has to deny and avoid. When Tootles shoots Wendy out of the sky, Peter sees her lying on the ground and thinks she’s dead. Like any child, he doesn’t know how to react.
“‘She is dead,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘Perhaps she is frightened at being dead.’ He thought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out of sight of her, and then never going near the spot any more.”
Thankfully Wendy is not dead, so Peter is spared the decision of what to do. That kind of death is never supposed to enter Neverland.
Relational Deaths in Peter Pan
As hard as it is for children to process physical deaths, relational deaths take their toll on naiveté too. In Peter Pan, J.M. Barry says that all children are “gay and innocent and heartless.” This includes Peter and his firm belief that Hook will choose to be as noble and fair in a fight as Peter is.
Once when Hook and Peter are fighting, Hook falls down, giving Peter an advantage. Instead of seizing the chance to kill Hook, Peter reaches down to give him a hand up; Peter wants to win the fight fairly. His natural “good form” has always nettled Hook, and rather than taking Peter’s hand, the foul captain bites it instead. This shocking mistreatment and disregard for all things fair is a startling revelation to Peter.
“[As Peter reached down,] Hook bit him. Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly…. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter.”
But the greatest relational death in Peter Pan is when Wendy and the boys grow up. Even as an adult, Wendy doesn’t forget about Neverland, but Peter forgets about Wendy. Instead of bringing her back to visit Neverland each spring as he had promised, Peter fails to come for her until she’s grown and has a little girl of her own. Wendy is too mature to cry about it anymore, although she had been heartbroken when she was younger. Peter is upset that Wendy betrayed him by growing up, but soon he settles on bringing Wendy’s daughter to visit instead. So the cycle continues.
Physical Deaths in Peter Pan
Apart from the carnage of war, there are only a few deaths mentioned in Peter Pan. The one that causes the smallest stir is the eventual death of Mrs. Darling. Her mysterious beauty and selfless love had been such a focal point at the beginning of the book, but when her children are grown and Mrs. Darling passes away, she is immediately “dead and forgotten.” It’s just another proof of their continued heartlessness. Maybe this is because they’re already mature; the death doesn’t pose a loss of innocence.
The death of Captain James Hook, far from bringing Peter to grips with reality, actually cements his refusal to mature. Hook is a constant reminder of age, and Peter doesn’t want to face those facts. The whole construct of Neverland is an eternal, ageless, changeless realm. So when the ticking crocodile – time itself – finally devours old Hook, Peter rejoices. In his heart, Peter knows that aging brings maturity, and he won’t tolerate such a thing in Neverland. After Hook’s death, the ticking croc slips away, and Peter can put the passing of time out of his mind again.
Deliberately Softened
The way that Peter Pan deals with death is considerably softened from our reality. It’s a children’s book and therefore has compassion on its young readers. The absence the deep wounds that death brings is itself part of the theme. The same can’t be said of The Yearling, as we’ll see next week. Be sure to check it out!
‘Tis the Season for Sourdough and Shortbread
Well, it’s Christmas time once again, and I’m up to my eyeballs in holiday cheer. I’m at maximum capacity—buying presents, attending celebrations, planning trips, wrapping gifts, and taking on two totally new and time-consuming kitchen responsibilities.
…Wait, what? Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. In the midst of the holiday hectics, I’ve chosen to foray into the world of fermentation by creating homemade sourdough and kombucha. But I’ve also discovered a simple, scrumptious shortbread thumbprint cookie recipe you won’t want to miss, so please read on!
Learning by Doing
If you’ve already become a sourdough pro, I congratulate you and envy you. I am still a greenhorn, and it shows in the amount of time I’ve poured into watching tutorials, reading articles, and studying recipes. I’ve been quite thorough, I assure you, but I still have so many questions. For example, WHY did I choose to start this at Christmas time??
Thankfully, I have a friend who has made both kombucha and sourdough, and she was kind enough to invite me over, share her resources, and demonstrate her methods. No matter how many videos I watch on YouTube, nothing beats a real, guided, hands-on experience from someone who’s done it before. She even sent me home with the dough we prepared so I could bake it the next day!
My (Current) Favorite Resources
For sourdough, she pointed me in the direction of Baker Bettie, and that has been my favorite resource so far. Bettie is thorough, detailed, and talented. Plus, she provides extensive articles, recipes, and videos. It helps me to see visual snippets of what the dough should look like at certain stages—that way I know when to relax and when to begin panicking.
For kombucha, I found a website called You Brew Kombucha. The girl on there is also thorough in her videos and articles. She cross-links her articles to all kinds of other tips and information on her site, which helped me find answers to questions I didn’t know I should be asking (like why shouldn’t I refrigerate my SCOBY and why is vinegar a poor substitute for starter tea. Also, like, what IS starter tea?).
My (Current) Favorite Recipes
So despite my Christmas schedule and despite the fact that I already spend hours in the kitchen each week just making meals for my lovely family, I’ve now been spending a great many additional hours at the kitchen counter making bread dough and flavoring kombuchas. But I do believe it’s going to be worth it in the long run. They’re tasty, versatile, and beneficial, and I’m always up for some extra work that can boast such benefits.
So if I haven’t spooked you off with all my talk of time in the kitchen, please allow me to share with you the recipes that have worked well for me so far. I don’t think I’d suggest starting them before Christmas, but there’s always January! I’ve been loving Baker Bettie’s Basic Sourdough recipe. If you watch her accompanying video a few times and follow the instructions exactly, I think you’ll be really happy with the results. My bread has been tough on the outside, chewy on the inside, pleasantly-tart, and perfectly airy. I’ve also followed You Brew Kombucha’s instructions for fermenting the fizzy drink, and the results have been delicious. There are about a billion flavors to add to kombucha, so have fun experimenting with your favorites!
A (Simple!) Bonus Recipe
And if you are totally uninterested in spending hours upon hours fermenting your own food and drink, then I will cast absolutely no judgment upon you. In fact, I’ll offer you one last recipe that I found to be simple, fun, and irresistible: Baker Bettie’s thumbprint cookies. My 4-year-old son helped me make these a few days ago, and he really had a blast shaping the dough, squashing his thumb into it, and filling them with homemade cherry jam. And I have lost all self-restraint when it comes to these little gems. They just keep finding their way into my belly.
So whether you decide to start making sourdough, concocting kombucha, or baking cookies, I hope you’ll put these recipes to good use. I know I have, and despite being pretty busy, I regret nothing. Merry Christmas, my friends, and happy baking.
Ps: These are NOT affiliate links. I get nothing out of recommending these resources, so if you make them, feel free to send me some samples!
Happy Thanksgiving from Past Watchful Dragons
Today instead of leaving you with a lengthy article, I’ve decided to post pictures of some of my greatest blessings. I hope that God’s goodness fills your heart with thankfulness and peace today, whether you’re in a season of joy, grief, or somewhere in between.
“Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.” Psalm 34:8
“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait for the LORD.” Psalm 27:13-14
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
The Beautiful Mess of Homeschool
Friends, I’ve got to tell you something about myself: I don’t function well in the midst of messes. Ok, truth be told, I can hardly function at all when things are messy. Instead of focusing on one task and seeing it through to completion, I zip from one out-of-place item to another, trying to set it all right before remembering what I started out to do.
For example, I’ll start to make lunch for my hungry children, but then I’ll see several containers of expired leftovers in the fridge, cram the scraps into the garbage, take out the overflowing trash, then try to load the empty containers into the dishwasher only to realize it’s still full of clean dishes. So, naturally, I unload the dishes and load the dirty ones, except the sink area also has a bunch of clutter around it, so I have to organize all that. On my way put away the clutter, I find about 37 more piles of toys, clothes, dishes, pillows, and books, and I can’t walk past them. I get caught in a frantic loop of grabbing and sorting, darting from pile to pile until my kids melt down from hunger, at which point I remember telling them I’d make lunch an hour ago.
I’m sure there are a few names for this condition, but the most common one is “motherhood.”
Homeschool: How My Journey Began
All right, as long as I’m in confession mode, I may as well mention that I was never the motherly type to begin with. I was happy being single, but then I got married. I was happy without kids, but then I had two. I was looking forward to sending them to school, but then I decided to homeschool. What’s the moral of the story? I may think I know what will bring me true joy, but God knows better.
I got my degree in teaching secondary English and enjoyed teaching high school for 11 years, but I’ve never once been tempted to teach elementary. Conveying the basics is far more intimidating to me than expounding on Shakespeare or tackling physics formulas. But when my husband and I started weighing the benefits of sending them to a good Christian school versus teaching them at home, the choice became clear. Homeschooling was the only affordable option that didn’t include my working a full-time job to pay for their school. So long, dreams of quiet weekdays full of tidy productivity.
What to Choose, What to Choose
If you’ve looked into homeschool curricula at all, you know there are roughly a gazillion options to choose from. Which method? Which resources? Which co-op? Which books? Which lifestyle? Which sad beige children’s clothing for my Instagram feed? To say the choices are overwhelming is an understatement. So, naturally, I began to research shortly after my son was born. Remember, having things organized is my happy place—even when those things are choices that loom five years down the road.
I settled on a classical approach because it’s time-tested and thorough. Then I narrowed it down to Classical Conversations because they’ve got the curriculum all laid out with songs, cycles, and community co-ops. Lastly, I suckered a good friend into joining a local co-op with me, and I haven’t looked back since. I mean, it’s only been eight weeks, but still. No regrets.
My Ideal Approach
I spent the summer planning, researching, printing, organizing, and generally stressing about the start of the school year. The Classical Conversations program begins when kids are four—the age when they enjoy memorizing and learning but can’t sit still for more than 12 minutes. That’s not a joke; it’s a fact, Jack. A fact which I disregarded when designing my son’s three-hour homeschool schedule, broken down into 15- or 30-minute increments. A fact which he proved when my beautiful, laminated plan went to pot on day one.
I had envisioned a joyfully-structured day, my son shifting from subject to subject with focus and flexibility. I thought our dining room table would be a hub of education and delight, the sunshine pouring onto our books, worksheets, and manipulatives like the smile of God. I pictured my two year old happily playing with the all the educational toys and crafts I would set out for her while my son diligently memorized Latin vocabulary and all 161 history timeline events. In short, I expected order.
Instead, I’ve experienced chaos.
The Messy Reality
The thing is, our typical day looks nothing—and I mean nothing—like my ideal. We do start with Bible stories and breakfast, but I’m actually not eating because my toddler has shunned her three-course meal in favor of sitting on my lap and shoving both her fists into my oatmeal-and-yogurt bowl. She’s very tactile. I move on to discussing the character trait of the week. Invariably, my toddler knocks over her unspillable cup of honey tea. It spills.
I mop that up while she grabs everything else with her hands gloved in oatmeal. I wipe all that up too. (Hang on, my eye is twitching again.) I try to keep us on track by singing the hymn of the week over my shoulder while I wash her hands in the kitchen sink. By now, my son’s attention is waning because the cleaning took so long, and we haven’t even started the actual lessons yet.
Guys, this is not fiction. It’s, like, every. Single. Day. You fellow homeschoolers know exactly what I’m talking about. (And if you don’t, please shoot me a message and tell me what on earth I’m doing wrong.)
Worth the Stress and the Mess
And yet I wouldn’t trade these hours for weekdays alone—not for five glorious, silent, tidy weekdays with the house all to myself…
Sorry I got distracted for a minute there. I was about to say how thankful I am for the chance to be stressed at home with my beautiful children. And I really do mean that. Quite honestly, I love them way, way more than I’d ever thought possible. Even when she sticks her fists in my oatmeal. Even when he scribbles all over the worksheet instead of drawing a straight line from A to the apple. Even when I’m short circuiting about the sheer caliber of disaster in nearly every room on the house.
Yes, even then, because homeschooling—like life—isn’t about attaining perfection. Demanding perfection of yourself will give you ulcers, and expecting it of your kids will give you twice the ulcers, three times as fast. It will also make them really frustrated. Instead, life is about knowing God and making Him known (which happens to be the Classical Conversation motto). For now, I get to make Him known to my two feral offspring. And God daily uses their mess and my stress to show me just how desperately I need Him. So even when homeschooling is a mess, I pray that God will help me focus on what matters most. There are moments of grace in the midst of the mess, and I don’t want to miss them.
Coming of Age: First Love
In coming-of-age stories, as in real life, it’s usually not a single, standalone event that leads a child from innocence to maturity. Sure, there can be a line-in-the-sand moment once in a while, but most often it’s a culmination of factors that draws people from childhood into the first stages of young adulthood.
In this series about coming-of-age in The Yearling and Peter Pan, I want to look at three factors that combine to bring maturity: love, death, and family. These stories, while drastically different, are both fantastic examples of the magic of childhood and the bittersweet realities of growing up.
INITIAL INNOCENCE
Children can be downright naughty (sinful, really), but there’s also an essence of purity about them when they’re young. I can see it in my children’s eyes when they’re experiencing something that delights them like snow, a song, or even a dandelion. Part of the coming-of-age journey is the starting point of innocence.
Peter Pan
J.M. Barry describes all children as “gay and innocent and heartless.” Speaking as a mom of two kids under five, I can attest to that. Wendy Darling and Peter both have a desire for adventure in Neverland, and neither cares one bit about how the Darling parents will feel if their three children suddenly disappear for months on end.
Wendy is oblivious to the dangers of Neverland when she first arrives. Peter, while very aware of the dangers, has no fear of them. Instead, he has complete and utter confidence in his own abilities—a caliber of cockiness that you really only find in children. In short, they both begin the story as “gay and innocent and heartless” as can be.
The Yearling
Jody Baxter is 12 years old when his story begins. We see him escaping the hard chores of Florida farm life to go play down at his favorite watering hole. He builds a “flutter-mill” (water wheel) out of leaves and watches it gently churn in the stream’s current. He’s both entranced and delighted, and he twirls around and around for pure joy.
He has the same feeling of cozy peace when he gets home and feels safe, loved, and well-fed. Ma is gruff, but she feeds him plenty and loves him practically. That’s good enough for Jody. But Pa is his true hero. In his eyes, Pa can do no wrong. Jody trusts everything Pa says and does. Jody’s delight in his childhood is innocence itself.
FIRST LOVE
First love is a big step on the road to maturity. You remember your first crush, don’t you? I know I do. I set my sights on a cool kid at school and used to stare dreamily at his letterman jacket in the elementary lunchroom. (Seriously, why does a fourth-grader need a letterman jacket?) But I don’t think he even knew I existed. Welcome to reality, little nerd. Unrequited love is a nudge toward coming of age.
Peter Pan
Wendy is in awe of Peter, and her awe quickly turns into a crush. She offers to give him a kiss before they leave the Darling’s house for Neverland, and she’s mortified to find that he doesn’t know what a kiss is. She recovers her dignity after making such a pert offer, but she continues to love him throughout the story.
For Peter’s part, he’s far too naïve to fall in love. He’s not in the “cooties” stage, per se, but he may as well be for all the attention he pays to his admirers. Tinkerbell has the first and truest crush on him, but he is completely obtuse to her insinuations. Tink despises Wendy, seeing her as competition for Peter’s affection. Even Princess Tiger Lily falls in love with Peter, but he is none the wiser. He confides in Wendy that he knows girls want something from him but that he can’t figure out what it is. If he had asked Tinkerbell, she would have gladly told him, the little flirt.
Other People’s Love in The Yearling
At the beginning of the story, Jody’s mind is far from love. From all he’s seen, love brings trouble. He sees two male bears clawing each other bloody over a female bear, and he soon learns that humans aren’t much better. Jody and Pa are fond of their close family friends, Grandma Hutto and her son Oliver. Oliver returns from a stint as a sailor and goes to court Twink Weatherby, who is prettier than she is loyal. Jody is angry and resentful that Oliver would ruin their cozy family dynamic by getting involved with some girl.
Things get worse when Oliver fights Lem Forrester, his rival for Twink. Pa and Jody have to join the fight to keep Oliver from getting killed, and this puts them at odds with their neighbors, the Forresters. Eventually the Forresters burn down Grandma Hutto’s house out of spite, and both Huttos move away. All because of some stupid girl.
Jody’s Love in The Yearling
But the love trouble gets even more personal for Jody. Pa teases him for having a soft spot toward Eulalie Boyles, the shopkeeper’s daughter. Jody gets irritated and defensive, claiming that Grandma Hutto is his only sweetheart. This harmless exchange continues to nettle Jody, and when he later sees Eulalie at the general store, he hurls a potato at her. He gets in trouble for it, but he doesn’t care. He hates her as only a boy with a crush can hate.
Toward the end of the story, Jody sees Eulalie at the town Christmas party, and she’s dancing with another boy. He feels angry and jealous, although he can’t articulate why. He feels that she somehow belongs to him, even if it’s just to throw potatoes at.
A LONG ROAD
The path from crush to true love is a long one, and Wendy and Jody have only taken their first steps. But once the opposite sex becomes an item of interest, there’s no going back to the days when they were simply playmates and equals. The coming-of-age journey has begun.
Our next step down the winding road toward maturity will be the reality of death. It’s a terrible truth but one that’s unavoidable as well. See you next time when we see how Neverland and Baxter Island are both affected by death.
Peter Pan and the Hero’s Journey
If you’ve been keeping up with this blog, you know that we’re in the middle of a coming-of-age series. Hopefully that sparked a few of you to wonder about today’s topic, Peter Pan. If you’re thinking, “Peter Pan never grows up. Why did she choose that as a coming-of-age story?” then kudos to you. You’ve had your coffee, and it’s in full effect. Peter Pan’s whole M.O. is that he doesn’t grow up, so he can’t really come of age, right?
But Peter’s not the only main character of the story, and I’ll try to make the case that his co-protagonist, Wendy, grows into maturity throughout the story while Peter – her leader, friend, and crush – flat out refuses to follow.
Origins of Peter Pan
Originally, J.M. Barry wrote the story as a play called Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Would Not Grow Up. Peter’s rejection of maturity was clear from the playbill itself. Later, Barry transformed the story into a book, calling it Peter and Wendy. There you see that the two title characters have an equally-important role to play in the story.
If you’ve never taken time to read (or listen to) the book, let me beg you to do it. It’s short, but it’s infinitely sweet, quirky, funny, witty, and oh-so-poignant. It’s one of my all-time favorite books, and that’s saying a lot. Please, at least listen to the audio version narrated by Jim Dale. You won’t regret it.
The Hero’s Journey
Now, down to business. I described the cycle of Joseph Campbell’s Hero’s Journey in my last post about the Yearling. If you’re not familiar with this archetypal storyline that shows up in so many tales, give my last post a quick read.
Today I want to show Peter and Wendy’s progression through the 12 stages of the Hero’s Journey. For our purposes, their journey is toward not just adventure in general but toward the specific adventure of maturity. Let’s see if they make it, shall we?
Peter and Wendy’s Journey
Ordinary World: When the story begins, Wendy’s ordinary world is quite different from Peter’s. Hers is one of manners, nannies, rules, and conventions. Peter’s world is wild, dangerous, unpredictable, and frightening. It doesn’t seem ordinary to us, but it’s become normal for Peter.
Call to the Adventure of Maturity: Wendy dreams of Peter Pan, as do her brothers, but they hadn’t seen him in real life yet. Wendy’s call to adventure comes when she catches Peter trying to capture his shadow in the children’s bedroom. His appearance there is no accident; he’d been visiting to hear Mrs. Darling’s stories, and he soon invites Wendy to Neverland to tell bedtime stories to Peter and the other Lost Boys.
Refusal: Wendy, being a responsible firstborn, doubts whether her mother would approve of a midnight visit to a distant island. Initially she declines Peter’s tempting offer to join him in Neverland. However, Peter eventually swindles her into joining him, luring her with promises of mermaids and mothering, both of which are more than she can resist.
Meeting with the Mentor (in this case, Death): Her brothers join the journey, and off they fly to Neverland. The three Darling children nearly die on the journey because they keep falling asleep while they fly, but Peter rescues them at the last moment—a way to showcase his cockiness. But Wendy has a much closer brush with death when a Lost Boy, deceived by Tinkerbell, shoots an arrow at Wendy’s chest as she flies. The arrow is deflected by an acorn necklace Peter gave her, but it was a fitting welcome to a lawless island.
Crossing the Threshold: Now the Darling children have entered Neverland in earnest, and there’s no going back—at least not yet. The island is more real and treacherous than they could have imagined. Wendy is suddenly a mother to nine boys, two of whom are actually her brothers. Peter is back in his element and is a questionable host at best since he’s always looking for ways to show off and be the boss.
Tests, Allies, and Enemies: In Neverland, the allies and enemies are pretty straightforward. Wendy is despised by Tinkerbell, the mermaids, and the pirates, but she’s adored by the Lost Boys. Peter has earned the admiration of everyone except the pirates, and even some of those seem to regard him with awe. There are plenty of tests and adventures as the story progresses, and Peter always manages to come out victorious. This enrages the infamous Captain Hook.
Approach to the Inmost Cave of Maturity: Eventually, the Darlings have been in Neverland so long that the boys forget basic facts about their real home and family. Wendy assures the boys that their mother will always be waiting for them to come home, but Peter bitterly announces that he’d tried to go home once and found that his mother had closed his bedroom window and put another baby in his crib. This shocks the Darlings (and the Lost Boys) back to reality. Wendy makes the mature decision to fly home immediately, and the Lost Boys decide to come too. Peter refuses to join them and stays behind, pretending to be nonchalant.
Ordeal: Little do they know that Hook is outside, plotting and waiting. He kidnaps everyone else and sends them to his ship. He tries to secretly poison Peter, whose youth and cockiness are a constant thorn in his flesh. On board, Wendy and the boys show great courage and maturity in the face of death. However, Hook is unpleasantly surprised to find that Peter has survived and has come to rescue the Darlings and the Lost Boys.
Reward of Maturity: Peter sends Hook to the hungry crocodile, who happily swallows him up. Now they’re free to rejoin the Darling family. Wendy has grown into a responsible young lady, and maturity is within Peter’s grasp, too.
The Road Back: They dress as pirates and sail the ship through the sky all the way back to London. The Darling children slip back into their beds as though nothing has happened, and the Lost Boys wait to be called in.
Resurrection: The Darlings are overjoyed to have their children back. They never gave up hope of the children’s return, but their appearance is as good as a resurrection. Even stodgy old Mr. Darling agrees to keep the scruffy-looking Lost Boys.
Return with the Elixir of Maturity: Wendy and all the rest of the boys grow up to be regular adults with normal jobs. They forget about Peter and Neverland, but Wendy doesn’t. At first Peter comes for her each spring, but soon he forgets to come, and she grows too big to fly anyway. After many years, Peter returns and finds Wendy a married woman with a child of her own. Peter, who has forgotten all about the adventures with Wendy and the Lost Boys, is just as happy to take Wendy’s daughter to Neverland. And so the cycle continues.
In the End
Ultimately, Wendy chooses to mature the conventional way, but Peter refuses, choosing instead to remain the only boy who never grows up.
The Yearling and the Hero’s Journey
Jody Baxter is like many young boys: innocent, trusting, playful, and lonely. Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, author of The Yearling, takes Jody on a hero’s journey that gradually but permanently shifts his perspective from boy to man. In fiction, as in life, the process isn’t always pretty.
A Familiar Story Structure
Today I’d like to walk through the plot of the Yearling in a different way. Instead of giving you a simple recap, I want to look at Jody Baxter’s coming of age through the lens of Joseph Campbell’s “The Hero’s Journey” cycle.
As I thought about Jody’s gradual growth into maturity, I realized the progression looked familiar. It’s not just a linear process; it’s a cycle with distinct phases. Way back in the day, I wrote a whole series of posts about The Hero’s Journey, and now the plot structure is deeply ingrained in my mind. Once you’re familiar with it, you’ll begin to see it everywhere too.
The Hero’s Journey
Coming of age often begins and ends at home, but by the end of the cycle the boy has become a man. This is the basic gist of the Hero’s Journey. The hero begins in his ordinary world at home, experiences a call to adventure, and refuses it. He meets with a mentor figure who shows him he must accept the challenge, and so he’s convinced to cross the threshold into adventure. He then goes through various tests while discovering allies and enemies.
Things get serious when he approaches the inmost cave, which is the climactic event or faceoff. He embraces it and tackles the ordeal head on, emerging victorious with the reward he came to seek. He then begins the road back home, where people may have begun to wonder if he’d been lost forever. His return is almost like a resurrection, but he has proof of his journey: the elixir he left to procure. He is home again, but he’s a new man and has the treasure to prove it.
And that, in a nutshell, is the Hero’s Journey. For this series, the “adventure” we’ll focus on is the coming-of-age process. See what you think as we look at Jody Baxter’s journey through these stages.
Jody’s Journey
If you’re not familiar with the story and don’t want me to spoil it for you, now would be a good time to quickly polish off all 500+ pages or listen to the 14-hour audiobook. Otherwise, enjoy this Hero’s-Journey-style summary.
Beginning in the Ordinary World
Ordinary World: Jody Baxter is a 12-year-old boy who grows up on a wild and lonely farm in the backwoods of Florida. He helps a bit around the farm, but he spends most of his time scampering off to daydream and play. His tenderhearted Pa tries to protect Jody from life’s harsh realities and obligations, while his no-nonsense Ma keeps them well fed but scolds them for pretty much everything.
Call to Maturity: Ma Baxter is always hounding Jody to do more work around the farm so Pa doesn’t have to do it all himself. Jody tags along on the jobs he finds exciting, like bear hunting and trading, and he helps with some chores. But he’s still a kid, and he acts like it.
Refusal: Although he’s pushed to man up, Jody is still content to play with his only friend, Fodderwing, and Fodderwing’s collection of misfit pets. Jody longs for a pet of his own to take the edge off his loneliness, but he won’t be interested in real responsibility unless he has no other choice.
Meeting with the Mentor (in This Case, Death): The choice comes soon enough. Pa gets bitten by a rattlesnake, and Jody has to run for help like Pa’s life depends on it. Pa has the sense to shoot a doe and use her liver to pull the venom from the bite while he waits. Pa lives through the ordeal but is greatly weakened.
Entering the Special World
Crossing the Threshold: Two events coincide to push Jody across the threshold toward maturity. First, the doe that Pa shot has left behind a fawn. Jody adopts it as the pet for which he’s been longing, and he feels his life is finally complete. But this unexpected gain is tempered by an unthinkable loss—Fodderwing gets sick and dies. Now Jody has a great responsibility in the form of Flag, the fawn, but also a great heartache as he contemplates why Fodderwing had to die. These realities draw him away from carefree naivety.
Tests, Allies, and Enemies: Now Jody is on the path toward maturity in earnest. Pa is weaker and gets sick more often since the snake bite, so he needs Jody’s help. Jody wrestles with questions about love, jealously, and death as his family tries to keep their allies and avoid making new enemies. But as Flag grows, Jody undergoes greater tests of his loyalty and maturity as he cares for the growing fawn while also trying to look out for the farm.
Approach to the Inmost Cave of Maturity: As Flag grows from a fawn into a yearling, Jody has a harder time keeping him in check. His cute capers have turned into destructive habits. He can’t be penned and insists on destroying the family’s crops—their only livelihood. Jody begins a man’s work in earnest, working to the bone to repair the damage that Flag wreaks. When Flag easily jumps the tall fence that Jody has spent weeks building around the garden, Pa knows the time has come. He gives the order for Jody to shoot Flag.
Ordeal: Of course, Jody refuses outright to shoot the best friend he has—the fawn who has eaten from his hand, slept in his room, played with him, and given him purpose for the past year. He looks for any and every alternative, but nothing will work. In fact, Jody’s delay costs the Baxters a critical amount of crops. Pa is too weak to leave his bed, so he gives Ma permission to shoot the deer. In a nightmarish sequence of events, Ma wounds Flag, but in order to end Flag’s suffering, Jody has to finish the job himself.
Reward of Maturity: While Jody did what had to be done, he did it with a child’s heart. He is sickened, hateful, and livid. He runs away from home without a plan. At last, near-starvation provides the catalyst for maturity. He realizes that starvation is terrifying, and that’s what his parents had been protecting the family from. He understands that Pa had not betrayed him but had done what he must to provide for the family. Jody doesn’t like it, but he finally understands.
Re-entering the Ordinary World
The Road Back: Jody passes out from hunger and exhaustion. A passing boat picks him up, gives him some soup, and drops him off several miles from home. Now that Jody is thinking more clearly, he understands that his childhood is over and it’s time to go home. He had left with hateful words toward his parents, and he wants to put it right.
Resurrection: A feeble Pa is waiting for Jody’s return. He had thought Jody was dead and gone forever, but his return is life itself to Pa. Jody listens as his father gives him advice, man-to-man. He is finally able to hear and accept it not as a boy but as an equal.
Return with the Elixir of Maturity: Now that he’s home, Jody will take Pa’s place around the farm. He has grown from a boy to a man, and Pa has faded from a man to an invalid. In a symbolic gesture, Pa leans on Jody as the son leads his father to bed. The torch has been passed, and Jody is now the man of the house.
Terrible Truths
If you felt shocked at the climax of the story, then join the club. It’s a horrible scene—even more so as you think back on the relationship between the boy and the fawn throughout the book.
Did it need to happen that way? Could Jody have matured in a less heart-wrenching way? You and I will both be pondering these questions. Next time, we’ll be digging in to three themes that are critical to coming of age: love, death, and family. I’m really looking forward to it, so if you’re not too depressed to go on with the series, I’ll see you then!
Add a comment, and join the conversation!