The Secret Garden

“Other children seemed to belong to their fathers and mothers, but [Mary] had never seemed to really be anyone’s little girl. She had had servants, and food and clothes, but no one had taken any notice of her. She did not know that this was because she was a disagreeable child; but then, of course, she did not know she was disagreeable. She often thought that other people were, but she did not know that she was so herself.”

The first part of the passage shows how Mary never felt as though she belonged to anyone; she might have sprung from the earth like a flower that no one wanted. The author takes advantage of the power of the omniscient narrator when she tells the reader that Mary doesn’t know she is disagreeable. A limited narrator can only see and know what the characters see and know.

“‘[The robin] was a knowin’ one an’ he knew he was lonely.’ Mistress Mary went a step nearer to the robin and looked at him very hard. ‘I’m lonely,’ she said. She had not known before that this was one of the things which made her feel sour and cross. She seemed to find it out when the robin looked at her and she looked at the robin.”

By becoming aware of her loneliness, Mary takes a big step in realizing she is a distinct person apart from everyone else. As she learns to observe and recognize her feelings, she also develops a greater sense of self-awareness, which allows her to begin to understand how she fits into the world around her and how she can connect with others.

“It is a Yorkshire habit to say what you think with blunt frankness, and old Ben Weatherstaff was a Yorkshire moor man. ‘Tha’ an’ me are a good bit alike,’ he said. ‘We was wove out of th’ same cloth. We’re neither of us good lookin’ an’ we’re both of us as sour as we look. We’ve got the same nasty tempers, both of us, I’ll warrant.’”

Ben’s observation of Mary allows her to see herself from an outsider’s perspective and understand how others might view her. His remarks might be hurtful, except that Mary actually likes Ben as a person, so the comparison isn’t offensive to her. This important formative experience provides Mary with valuable insights into herself.

“‘Listen to th’ wind wutherin’ round the house,’ [Martha] said. ‘You could bare stand up on the moor if you was out on it tonight.’ Mary did not know what ‘wutherin’ meant until she listened, and then she understood. It must mean that hollow shuddering sort of roar which rushed round and round the house as if the giant no one could see was buffeting it and beating at the walls and windows to try to break in.”

The Yorkshire dialect contains several words that aren’t used outside of the region. “Wuther” is an Onomatopoeia, meaning a word that sounds like the thing it describes. For example, pudding makes a “plop” sound when it plops on the plate. The author describes the sound Mary hears as a hollow, shuddering roar, but it is easy to hear the sound in your mind’s ear as “wuther, wuther, wuther.” The author also uses assonance, consonance, and alliteration to describe the sound. Assonance is the repeated use of a vowel sound, as in a “hollow shuddering roar.” Consonance is when a consonant sound repeats over and over at different points in different words. For example, in “shuddering sort of roar,” the “R” sound repeats. Alliteration is when words in a line begin with the same sound, for example, “rushed round and round,” “buffeting and beating,” and “walls and windows.” The author uses the sound of all the words to repeat the sounds in the wind so that you hear the sound she is describing when you read the description.

“The robin was tremendously busy. He was very much pleased to see gardening begun on his own estate. He had often wondered at Ben Weatherstaff. Where gardening is done all sorts of delightful things to eat are turned up with the soil. Now here was this new kind of creature who was not half Ben’s size and yet had had the sense to come into his garden and begin at once.”

The author’s use of the omniscient narrator adds charm to the story by giving the reader a view of what the world might look like to a robin. The robin regards the garden as his own estate (a property in the country usually with a large house belonging to a single individual or family) and himself as its master, and he regards Ben and Mary both as if they lots to do his bidding.

“Mary was an odd, determined little person, and now she had something interesting to be determined about, she was very much absorbed, indeed. She worked and dug and pulled up weeds steadily, only becoming more pleased with her work every hour instead of tiring of it. It seemed to her like a fascinating sort of play.”

Mary illustrates the principle that meaningful work is a kind of play in itself. For children, work is something adults do—it's serious and often tedious. But as we grow up, we see work as an opportunity to use our skills and talents to create something new or solve challenging problems. And while it may not always be fun, meaningful work can still bring us a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. The author wishes to convey to the reader that meaningful work is essential for a happy and fulfilling life.

“A boy was sitting under a tree, with his back against it, playing on a rough wooden pipe. He was a funny looking boy about twelve. He looked very clean and his nose turned up and his cheeks were as red as poppies and never had Mistress Mary seen such round and such blue eyes in any boy’s face. And on the trunk of the tree he leaned against, a brown squirrel was clinging and watching him, and from behind a bush nearby a cock pheasant was delicately stretching his neck to peep out, and quite near him were two rabbits sitting up and sniffing with tremulous noses—and actually it appeared as if they were all drawing near to watch him and listen to the strange low little call his pipe seemed to make.”

The author’s description of Dickon is a cross between the Greek god Pan and the woodland spirit Puck, both of whom are associated with the peaceful countryside and unspoiled natural beauty. By describing Dickon in this way, the author suggests that he embodies the idea that all of nature is divine, making him a fitting guardian for the secret garden. Dickon’s connection to Pan and Puck also emphasizes his mischievous and playful nature, both of which are essential qualities for keeping the garden hidden from adults. In short, the author's depiction of Dickon shows both the magical and the practical aspects of his character.

“‘I’ve stolen a garden,’ she said very fast. ‘It isn’t mine. It isn’t anybody’s. Nobody wants it, nobody cares for it, nobody ever goes into it. Perhaps everything is dead in it already; I don’t know.’ She began to feel hot and as contrary as she had ever felt in her life. ‘I don’t care, I don’t care! Nobody has any right to take it from me when I care about it and they don’t. They’re letting it die, all shut in by itself,’ she ended passionately, and she threw her arms over her face and burst out crying—poor little Mistress Mary.”

On the surface, Mary is talking about the garden, but underneath, she is also talking about herself. Like the garden, nobody wants her or cares for her. Mary is not only asserting her ownership of the physical space but also her emotional connection to it. This is important because it means that she is willing to love herself even when no one else does. By claiming the garden as her own, Mary is claiming her right to love herself, even though no one else loves her.

“‘When you see a bit of earth you want,’ [Mr. Craven said] with something like a smile, ‘take it, child, and make it come alive.’”

This quote shows that Mr. Craven is not unkind. He wants Mary to be happy and well-cared for. His words signify to Mary that she is entitled to a place in the world. No one else has ever given her that much. He is also telling her that it is up to her to be brave enough to find her place in the world and make her own. There is irony in this because he himself is not brave. Perhaps Mary’s similarity to his wife has awakened a shadow of her wisdom in him.

“‘Do you want to live?’ inquired Mary. ‘No,’ he answered, in a cross, tired fashion. ‘But I don’t want to die. When I feel ill I lie here and think about it until I cry and cry.’”

Colin does not want to die but has no hope of living, and his life is miserable. He feels trapped and hopeless. However, through Mary, he learns new ways to get what he wants, and in her stories about the garden, he sees the possibility for change.

“Mary seat[ed] herself on the big stool. ‘Once in India I saw a boy who was a Rajah. He had rubies and emeralds and diamonds stuck all over him. He spoke to his people just as you spoke to Martha. Everybody had to do everything he told them—in a minute. I think they would have been killed if they hadn’t.’”

The author frequently describes Colin as a Rajah when he is being autocratic and rude, even though the household staff finds Colin’s boy Rajah pose more amusing and less upsetting than his tantrums; Colin is at least attempting to direct his will in a less harmful direction. Later, after he enters the garden, the author uses the word “king” instead to indicate that he has become a more mature kind of ruler—

he has gained rulership over himself rather than other people.

“‘Would you hate it if—if a boy looked at you?’ Mary asked uncertainly.

“[Colin] lay back on his cushion and paused thoughtfully. ‘There’s one boy I believe I shouldn’t mind. It’s that boy who knows where the foxes live—Dickon.’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t mind him,’ said Mary.

‘The birds don’t and other animals,’ he said, still thinking it over, ‘perhaps that’s why I shouldn’t. He’s a sort of animal charmer and I am a boy animal.’”

Colin hates being seen by others, as he believes they see him only as a disabled boy who doesn’t fit into the expectations they have about children in human society. However, animals don’t have expectations; they just are what they are, and Dickon understands animals. Colin feels that Dickon will see him as simply a boy, without any other expectations or preconceptions.

“‘It’s part o’ th’ springtime, this nest-buildin’ is,’ he said. ‘I warrant it’s been goin’ on in th’ same way every year since th’ world was begun. They’ve got their way o’ thinkin’ and doin’ things an’ a body had better not meddle. You can lose a friend in springtime easier than any other season if you’re too curious.’”

Deacon demonstrates his understanding and acceptance of the lives of animals and his willingness to leave them alone and give them privacy when they need it. To him, losing the trust of a creature like the robin isn’t just a matter of frightening an animal; it is the loss of a friend.

“‘Do you think [Colin] wants to die?’ whispered Mary. ‘No, but he wishes he’d never been born. Mother she says that’s th’ worst thing on earth for a child. Them as is not wanted scarce ever thrives. Mester Craven he’d buy anythin’ as money could buy for th’ poor lad but he’d like to forget as he’s on earth.’”

Neither Mary nor Colin was ever wanted by anyone. To thrive, they must want themselves—and each other. By forming a little society of their own, they create a world in which they are wanted.

“‘You are a selfish thing!’ cried Colin. ‘What are you?’ said Mary. ‘Selfish people always say that. Any one is selfish who doesn’t do what they want. You’re more selfish than I am. You’re the most selfish boy I ever saw.’”

Mary is, by this time, well aware that she is selfish. That is how she can understand Colin as well as she does. Unlike Colin, Mary is gradually turning her selfishness into a strength. It requires a healthy degree of selfishness to not allow Colin to dominate her. This scene illustrates how a virtue like selflessness can become a weakness and a fault such as selfishness can become a strength.

“She marched out of the door and closed it behind her, and there to her great astonishment she found the trained nurse standing as if she had been listening and, more amazing still—she was laughing. She was a big handsome young woman who ought not to have been a trained nurse at all, as she could not bear invalids and she was always making excuses to leave Colin to Martha or any one else who would take her place. Mary had never liked her, and she simply stood and gazed up at her as she stood giggling into her handkerchief.”

One of the reasons the children need their own world and society apart from adults is that seen from the distance of adulthood, the children’s quarrels seem funny. To Mary and Colin, however, their conflicts are serious and important. They have just gone through a struggle to set rules that will affect their relationship with each other and with other people for the rest of their lives. They have learned things about themselves that will change them forever. To an adult reader, Mary and Colin’s argument is quite funny, but the children need and deserve a place of their own where they are taken seriously.

“‘I’m givin’ thee a bit o’ Yorkshire,’ answered Mary triumphantly. ‘I canna’ talk as graidely as Dickon an’ Martha can but tha’ sees I can shape a bit. Doesn’t tha’ understand a bit o’ Yorkshire when tha’ hears it? An’ tha’ a Yorkshire lad thysel’ bred an’ born! Eh! I wonder tha’rt not ashamed o’ thy face.’”

Mary teases Colin about his unfamiliarity with the local dialect, but only in fun. She introduces him to the “secret” language that sets the world of the garden apart from the world of the manor. The world is expanding gradually to include Dickon, Martha, Ben, and Mrs. Sowerby, but it excludes people like Mrs. Medlock, Doctor Craven, and the other household servants.

“‘Well, it was rather funny to say it,’ she admitted frankly, ‘because his nose does turn up and he has a big mouth and his clothes have patches all over them and he talks broad Yorkshire, but—but if an angel did come to Yorkshire and live on the moor—if there was a Yorkshire angel—I believe he’d understand the green things and know how to make them grow and he would know how to talk to the wild creatures as Dickon does and they’d know he was friends for sure.’”

The author uses many mythological, supernatural, and religious symbols to convey the sense that nature and God are the same things. Dickon has already been shown to represent a pagan nature spirit. Now the author introduces a similar symbol from Christianity. Burnett is tying together the God of Christianity with the gods of other belief systems and comparing those other gods to angels.

“‘I believe Susan Sowerby’s right—I do that,’ said Mrs. Medlock. ‘I stopped in her cottage on my way to Thwaite yesterday and had a bit of talk with her. And she says to me, “Well, Sarah Ann, she mayn’t be a good child, an’ she mayn’t be a pretty one, but she’s a child, an’ children needs children.” We went to school together, Susan Sowerby and me.’ ‘She’s the best sick nurse I know,’ said Dr. Craven. ‘When I find her in a cottage I know the chances are that I shall save my patient.’ Mrs. Medlock smiled. She was fond of Susan Sowerby.”

These paragraphs illustrate that Mrs. Sowerby is more than the mother of a few (12!) children. Her influence extends far beyond her immediate family, and she is consulted on a wide range of matters, including healing the sick.

“‘It’s so beautiful!’ she said, a little breathless with her speed. ‘You never saw anything so beautiful! It has come! I thought it had come that other morning, but it was only coming. It is here now! It has come, the Spring! Dickon says so!’ ‘Has it?’ cried Colin, and though he really knew nothing about it he felt his heart beat. He actually sat up in bed. ‘Open the window’ he added, laughing half with joyful excitement and half at his own fancy. ‘Perhaps we may hear golden trumpets!’ And though he laughed, Mary was at the window in a moment and in a moment more it was opened wide and freshness and scents and birds’ songs were pouring through. ‘That’s fresh air,’ she said. ‘Lie on your back and draw in long breaths of it. That’s what Dickon does when he’s lying on the moor. He says he feels it in his veins and it makes him strong and he feels as if he could live forever and ever.’”

Under the surface meaning, the words “Dickon says so” suggest that spring has come because Dickon, in his role as a nature spirit, has declared it. The claim that fresh air will confer strength and eternal life also comes from Dickon.

“They drew the chair under the plum-tree, which was snow-white with blossoms and musical with bees. It was like a king’s canopy, a fairy king’s. There were flowering cherry-trees near and apple-trees whose buds were pink and white, and here and there one had burst open wide. Between the blossoming branches of the canopy bits of blue sky looked down like wonderful eyes.”

In this passage, Colin transforms from a Rajah to a king. As a Rajah, he was rude and peremptory. As a king, he is in control of himself. The setting is one of welcome. The garden shelters him, the bees serenade him, and the sky gazes down at him with love and approval. The sky is associated with heaven, and the author will continue to use the color blue to signify holiness or the presence of the Unified Spirit of the universe.

“In the garden there was nothing […] which did not understand the wonderfulness of what was happening to [the robin and his mate]—the immense, tender, terrible, heart-breaking beauty and solemnity of Eggs. […] [Not one] person in that garden who had not known through all his or her innermost being that if an Egg were taken away or hurt the whole world would whirl round and crash through space and come to an end—”

Once again, the omniscient point of view allows the author to immerse the reader in the experience of the birds. It requires six adjectives to convey the enormity of the birds focusing on their eggs. The eggs are their entire world.

“The door in the ivied wall had been pushed gently open and a woman had entered. She had come in with the last line of their song and she had stood still listening and looking at them. With the ivy behind her, the sunlight drifting through the trees and dappling her long blue cloak, and her nice fresh face smiling across the greenery she was rather like a softly colored illustration in one of Colin’s books.”

Mrs. Sowerby enters the garden at the end of the doxology as if the children’s invocation of the divine has brought her. Her blue cloak represents the divine, which suggests that she comes as the embodiment of the ultimate mother. The ivy that frames her signifies that she is a mother of all nature and life.