89 pages • 2 hours read
Paul FleischmanA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more. For select classroom titles, we also provide Teaching Guides with discussion and quiz questions to prompt student engagement.
As a motif, garbage represents the neglect, stereotyping, and shame associated with Gibb Street and its residents. Even those who don’t live in the neighborhood dump their trash there, inspiring Leona to directly connect the garbage with the neglect and stereotyping of the neighborhood, reflecting, “[People] think we’re all such slobs down here we won’t mind another load of junk” (25). The trash is not simply an obstacle to overcome before people can plant in the lot, but a perception to vanquish in pursuit of the thriving community the residents all yearn for but individually lack the means to achieve. The lot is initially an insurmountable mess with garbage “piled high as your waist” (25), but Kim clears a small area for her beans. When these sprout and thrive, others see that the lot, like the neighborhood, has potential but requires Nurturing as an Act of Faith and Healing.
Though Leona successfully gets the surface-level garbage cleared, gardeners like Virgil and his father keep unearthing buried trash as they prepare plots. Even when the lot looks like the thriving community garden it is, some people continue to dump there out of habit, and the gardeners must contend with those who “empt[y] their ashtrays out the windows and toss[] out all sorts of stuff” (34). Like the deeper divisions and separation between the people in the neighborhood, the garbage requires effort, faith, and the breaking of old habits to overcome.
Plant and vegetable imagery recurs as a motif associated with the interconnectedness of all natural things, developing the theme of Overcoming Separation With a Shared Purpose. Images of vining plants like beans, squash, and tomatoes creeping out slowly over fences and into other plots mimic the slow and steady spread of community between the gardeners as they work and grow close throughout the season. Maricela’s observations on cosmic interconnectedness, that “her body [is] part of nature” and that she is related to “bears, to dinosaurs, to plants, the things that were a million years old” (72), are prompted by staring at the squash vines curling and tangling through her plot. Like the vines that naturally seek out and bind, the residents of Gibb Street tap into an inner intuition to reach out and connect with others.
Images of ripe fruits, like Lateesha’s tomatoes, Sae Young’s peppers, and Amir’s beautiful purple eggplants, provide proof of the prosperity that arises from shared nurturing and care. Likewise, the bounty of goods shared among friends at the impromptu harvest festival reaffirms that prosperity comes through interconnectedness rather than separation. Even the dead winter garden that Florence describes, with nothing but some “dry corn stalks shaking in the wind like they were shivering” (85), supports the idea of faith in a deeper purpose. Just as plant roots weather the cold of winter, Gibb Street’s garden has roots deep in the community that enable it to thrive again.
The locket Virgil discovers in the garden symbolizes his faith (and, by extension, the faith required of all participants in a garden or community) that his efforts will lead to future prosperity. When Virgil finds the locket, it is garbage, covered in grime and dulled from disuse. His faith is also rusted, faltering when he catches his father lying to Miss Fleck and then when the lettuce he has toiled over withers and gets eaten by bugs. However, instead of remaining angry with his father and leaving him to what Virgil sees as divine punishment, he turns to the locket. Showing it the same care and attention he has shown the lettuce, Virgil cleans and polishes it until it gleams. Believing the girl inside the locket looks like Demeter, the Greek goddess of agriculture, Virgil places his faith in the shining icon. With prayers and hard work, he continues to nurture the lettuce, believing that his efforts will make a difference.
The impromptu September matanza is the symbolic culmination of the gardeners’ faith and efforts. Helped by Royce, a group of Mexican American immigrants builds a great brick fireplace and brings a whole pig to roast. The Spanish and Latin American tradition of slaughtering a pig and exchanging food celebrates bounty and is meant to draw the community together, and true to purpose, the “smell of the roasting pig drift[s] out and call[s] to everyone, gardeners or not” (80). As in the Parable of the Loaves and Fishes, the community brings what they have to offer up and gathers in celebration, with the fences, distrust, and rules of separation forgotten. Amir watches as “the gardeners proudly show[] off what they’d grown […] trade[] harvests […] and [give] food away” (80). The faith and hard work that provided purpose and healing to participants now feeds and connects all at the matanza, where people get to know one another for the first time. Cooperative nurturing leads to the shared prosperity of a successful harvest.
By Paul Fleischman