The Indigo Girl

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2018

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Summary

Background

Chapter Summaries & Analyses

Prologue-Chapter 10

Chapters 11-17

Chapters 18-25

Chapters 26-35

Chapter 36-Epilogue

Character Analysis

Themes

Symbols & Motifs

Important Quotes

Essay Topics

Tools

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Discussion Questions

Themes

The Price of Freedom

As The Indigo Girl is set within the historical juncture of the colonial period and the transatlantic trade of enslaved people, Boyd tackles the concept of freedom as a forbidden reality for most of her characters. She specifically parallels Eliza’s societal and gendered confinement with Ben’s for-profit, perpetual enslavement to highlight the different ways in which freedom is restricted and maintained in colonial America. Both characters believe that freedom can, in some fashion, be bought. For Ben, his hopes lie in Cromwell’s false promises of manumission; as Cromwell explains to Eliza, “Patrick [Cromwell’s brother] used to pay [Ben] a meagre amount, but now with this current appointment, he is working off his remaining indenture. When he is finished here with us, however long that takes […] I have agreed to consider his manumission” (130). The vague wording of Cromwell’s declaration foreshadows his true intentions never to release Ben from his indenture. The author never specifies the price that Ben must pay, and the italicized word “consider” indicates that Cromwell is not beholden to any legally binding promises to release Ben. Thus, Ben’s freedom is at the mercy of Cromwell’s whim and will therefore remain nonexistent. In fact, the very skill that would allow him to pay the undisclosed price of his freedom is the reason why Cromwell will never let him go, as Eliza surmises when she confronts Ben about her ruined indigo: “How many times has he made that promise? […] He will never free you! […] He needs you. He is nothing without you” (232). Ben is therefore caught in a vicious cycle that only further entraps him, no matter how much his knowledge of indigo enriches Cromwell.

The idea of putting a price on freedom reveals itself to be an illusion—one that Eliza comes to know intimately in her own way. For her, the price of freely living without marital restrictions is to engineer critical financial success through sound management of her father’s plantations. Eliza often likens her fate to that of Ben’s when she considers the breadth of her choices and the possibility of her impact as a woman. As she reflects, “I couldn’t change the fact that my father owned other humans as chattel, chattel that indirectly included Ben now and also—a sob of breath escaped my chest—included me” (155). Though their social situations are vastly different and Eliza enjoys a level of social privilege that Ben could never have, the author implies that there is a tangible similarity between the two characters’ struggles to define their own paths in life, as they are both subjected to male authorities who dictate their behavior and their livelihoods. Marriage, for Eliza, is the envisioned looming prison that would rob her of her joys and personality. To circumvent the confinement of marriage, Eliza holds a meritocratic ideal and believes that if her indigo venture succeeds, her family will recognize her worth and grant her the freedom she craves. Eliza optimistically outlines her hopes that when she succeeds in the indigo venture, “George w[ill] come to South Carolina […] but it w[ill] be [she] who r[uns] the day-to-day business. […] [She is] sure of it” (217).

As in Ben’s case, the author shows that Eliza’s claim to personal freedom is one that is deliberately unformalized and vague. Eliza has never received any assurances from her father or brother that she would be permitted to handle the family plantations after she has proven herself. In fact, her father tends toward the opposite view, as he regularly assents to her mother’s insistence on finding Eliza a husband. As for her brother, his absence from the narrative is indicative of Eliza’s unreliable narration when it comes to her understanding of George’s future intentions; because she has not seen him for years, she cannot accurately predict his decisions. In the end, the author suggests that freedom is not a concept that can be “bought,” for neither Ben nor Eliza achieve the freedom they envision, even when they work to pay the perceived price of their freedom.

The Impact of Gender Roles on Female Ambitions

As Eliza endeavors to run her father’s plantations and invest in making indigo dye, she is constantly thwarted and challenged by the widespread societal restrictions on the roles of women. Just as Starrat dismisses her as “some girl child” from whom he refuses to take orders (101), John Laurens assumes that a woman working along with enslaved workers in the fields is necessarily being attacked by them, and in both cases, Eliza must often fend off gendered presumptions in order to assert her independence in a male-dominated world. Thus, the author sets up the two opposing pressures that trouble Eliza’s development: her dreams of being more than a wife and society’s designation of women as property. Though Eliza will eventually bend to convention far enough to marry Charles, a man she loves, the narrative nonetheless implies that the success of her efforts never truly belongs to her, for in all respects, Eliza’s ambitions are coopted by the men in her family. In The Indigo Girl, glory and independent achievements beyond the domestic sphere do not belong to women, and whenever Eliza violates this rule, society’s reflexive backlash often leaves her feeling powerless and vulnerable.

However, Boyd also specifies that Eliza must contend with far more than the social expectations of colonial America, as she must also navigate the restrictions of British culture as well; her mother, Ann, serves as the avatar of these overarching inhibitions and actively sabotages her daughter’s ambitions. As Eliza perpetually challenges the status quo, her mother is horrified at any deviation from ingrained gender roles. Ann also upholds the limitations placed on women, regarding them as fundamental to the sanctity of her family’s reputation. As the opposing views of the two women escalate the conflict between them, the issue culminates in Ann’s conspiracy with Cromwell to spoil Eliza’s indigo dye batch. Boyd thus traces the diverging paths that mother and daughter take; whereas Eliza embodies her father’s belief in a new world in America, her mother literally wishes to remain in the old world—specifically, in the British colonies in Antigua, where established social norms are not challenged.

Society’s Role in the Normalization of Enslavement

Throughout the novel, Boyd illustrates the different ways in which enslavement is normalized by colonial American society, highlighting the depth of dehumanization that enslaved people faced during this era. Although Eliza is often portrayed as being kind to the enslaved workers on her father’s plantation, this tendency does not negate the circumstances of their enslavement, their lack of agency, or their perpetual fear of suffering violence or death at the hands of their enslavers. The author thus creates an ongoing sense of tension between Eliza and the accepted tenets of her society. Although Eliza might question society’s rationalizations for the practice of enslavement, she does little to dismantle this institution, largely out of fear of societal reprisal. As her father emphasizes, “The danger is not from [enslaved people], dear ‘Liza. […] But from the folk in town and roundabouts. You must be very cautious; people will be watching” (29). Eliza therefore rationalizes her choice to avoid challenging colonial America’s acceptance of enslavement, using the excuse of her powerlessness as a young woman with no authority and a lack of support.

Despite Eliza’s dislike of enslavement as an institution, Boyd also implies that the protagonist is not immune to the normalized assumptions that colonial society makes about the practice. These prejudiced societal beliefs are first highlighted in a conversation between Eliza and her friend Mary Chardon when the women discuss the immorality of enslaving individuals. Mary states, “[I]t’s not the same as enslaving normal human beings. They are of inferior intellect and without our structure pressed upon them, they would still be savages in Africa […] So in my view we are doing them a favor” (147). Here, Mary echoes the common justification that sought to validate enslavement for hundreds of years, for the same misguided sentiments have appeared across continents and through prominent literary works such as Rudyard Kipling’s highly problematic poem, “The White Man’s Burden.” Mary’s position is based on an assumption that, in their alleged moral and intellectual superiority, white people are somehow saving enslaved individuals from themselves. Eliza initially rebukes this assumption, arguing that without the benefit of education, white people would appear “dense” to an observer. When Ben attempts to self-emancipate at the end of the novel, however, Eliza falls into a similar savior complex to that of Mary’s. She believes that her intention to stop Ben from becoming a fugitive is well-meaning because she reasons that if he were to be caught, he would be arrested and most likely murdered. Hence, her reasons for sending Quash after Ben are steeped in a protective instinct. This underlying issue becomes apparent even in her own thoughts, for she admits, “I was torn. If Ben wanted to be free, who was I to stop him? I was also worried. […] Who would listen to him if he were to be stopped on the way to St. Augustine? He would simply be reenslaved and sold or arrested for being a runaway” (242). Yet while Eliza recognizes that Ben should be able to make his own choices, she nonetheless believes that she is in a better position to make that choice for him. What she is protecting him from, however, is rather vague, as “saving him” from the authorities that would see him “reenslaved” means returning him to a life of bondage under Cromwell. Thus, although Eliza might evince a kinder demeanor to those under bondage, she nevertheless finds herself beset with the same sense of entitlement and superiority espoused by other enslavers in her society.