A Place of Our Own

Even good kids seem to be conspirators at heart. There's something to be said for adventuring into the unknown--testing the limits, breaking the rules even slightly in the hope that we'll find our own secret spot in the world.  For many of us, this was an actual place we built or discovered with friends. Sometimes an abandoned-looking house or lot would suffice, whereas others had the help of a grown-up to make them a legitimate tree fort or clubhouse where they could gather.

I became fixated on the clubhouse in my Berenstain Bears book, No Girls Allowed. I tried to sell my dad on the idea of building me the same elaborate fort but he decided to spend his time making houses for adults instead. (Lame.) In any case, I was pretty good at improvising forts on clotheslines and in garages. Couch cushions could always be put to good use in a friend's basement.

But just as important as the physical space was the creation of the club itself. I've started a few in my day, usually following a theme of alliteration (Busy Bees Club, Krazy Kids Klub--I know, I know). I don't recall membership being anything more exclusive than simply showing up, though there was always one important rule that must be observed: NO ADULTS! Not actually because we were doing something that would get us in trouble (unless rollerskating and making fortune tellers was against the law) but because we lived in a world run by adults and we wanted a place that truly felt like ours alone.

The story of The Secret Garden is very true to this theme. The main character, Mary Lennox, becomes enamored with the idea of finding the secret garden once she learns that it's hidden away on the grounds somewhere and she's explicitly told not to search for it. Once she does finally discover it, the garden becomes a very special place--one she is responsible for bringing back to life, one untouched by the adults who busy themselves with other grown-up matters, one that allows her to connect to nature and to her friends and to herself. Whether we seek out these sorts of special places because we need the escape or we simply want somewhere to be inspired, there seems to be an almost universal appeal amongst children. It should come as little surprise, then, that some of the most beloved characters from children's literature--Pippi Longstocking, Anne of Green Gables, Huckleberry Finn--are driven by this same mischief and wonder, and ultimately, the desire to belong. I'll leave you with the words of Mary Lennox (our favorite literary adventurer), as she sings in "The Girl I Mean to Be":

I need a place where I can go

Where I can whisper what I know

Where I can whisper who I like

and where I go to see them.

I need a place where I can hide

Where no one sees my life inside

Where I can make my plans

and write them down--so I can read them.

A place where I can bid my heart be still,

and it will mind me

A place where I can go when I am lost

and there I'll find me.

I need a place to spend the day

Where no one says to go or stay

Where I can take my pen and draw 

the girl I mean to be.

Maggie Smith and Other Cultural Parallels

When I first revisited The Secret Garden in order to study the historical timeline and themes, I couldn't help but notice how much it had in common with some present-day heavyweights of pop culture. In writing The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett borrowed from some of her own powerful influences--most notably the Bronte sisters, famous for their tales of orphaned children coming of age on the desolate Yorkshire moors (Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights). Burnett's classic has also been compared to Heidi, Oliver Twist, and Great Expectations. More orphans. To be fair, I'm starting to realize that the protagonist in nearly every book of that era was orphaned. Interesting...

In any case, let's cut back to the present. Among the many potential modern day parallels with The Secret Garden, there were two that stuck out to me. The first involves an orphaned English child (interesting) who befriends two other kids as they fight back against ghosts from the past and conjure up magic to defeat the thick-headed adults that stand in their way. If you guessed Harry Potter, 500 points to Gryffindor for you!

Here's a very specific coincidence between Harry Potter and The Secret Garden that I found particularly charming. As some readers will recall, one of the stranger things at Hogwarts School involves portraits that talk and move about at will, despite being confined to their picture frames. Though J.K. Rowling took this to another level in her books, an excerpt from The Secret Garden hints at this bizarre possibility (the Broadway version even used giant picture frames to stage some of the scenes with the dead):

" She opened the door of the room and went into the corridor, and then she began her wanderings. It was a long corridor and it branched into other corridors and it led her up short flights of steps which mounted to others again. There were doors and doors, and there were pictures on the walls. Sometimes they were pictures of dark, curious landscapes, but oftenest they were portraits of men and women in queer, grand costumes made of satin and velvet. She found herself in one long gallery whose walls were covered with those portraits. She had never thought there could be so many in any house. She walked slowly down this place and stared at the faces, which also seemed to stare at her. She felt as if they were wondering what a little girl from India was doing in their house."

The second undeniable of-the-moment parallel to The Secret Garden is the television show, Downton Abbey. In recent years, this British original series made its way to PBS, and thus into the homes of many Americans entranced by its soap opera depiction of life in the post-Edwardian era. The parallels here are often literal--both timeframe and setting collide, as The Secret Garden takes place in 1906 in a Yorkshire country estate and Downton Abbey begins just six years later in... a Yorkshire country estate. The first photo is of the fictional Downton Abbey castle and the second is a still of Misselthwaite Manor from the 1993 film of The Secret Garden. Here's a tour of the neighborhood:

One of the more fascinating parallels is the portrayal of "upstairs downstairs" dynamics in both stories. The enmeshed lives and gossip between the masters of the house and the servants is at the core of why people are drawn to Downton Abbey in the first place. This theme is also central to The Secret Garden, though in less obvious ways. Here's another excerpt from the book, this time illustrating Mary's culture shock upon realizing that the servants of Misselthwaite were not quite so subserviant as those she'd grown accustomed to in India:

"Mary's meals were served regularly, and Martha waited on her, but no one troubled themselves about her in the least. Mrs. Medlock came and looked at her every day or two, but no one inquired what she did or told her what to do. She supposed that perhaps this was the English way of treating children. In India she had always been attended by her Ayah, who had followed her about and waited on her, hand and foot. She had often been tired of her company. Now she was followed by nobody and was learning to dress herself, because Martha looked as though she thought she was silly and stupid when she wanted to have things handed to her and put on."

And if you need some final proof that these three worlds are inextricably linked, look no further than Dame Maggie Smith. As luck would have it, she can be found in all three!

as Dowager Countess of Grantham, Downton Abbey

as Professor Minerva McGonagall, Harry Potter

and last but not least, as Mrs. Medlock, The Secret Garden.

Behind the Story

Hopefully, if you aren't already familiar with The Secret Garden, you've given some serious thought to picking up a copy of the book and reading it for yourself. I highly recommend you do so, as nothing quite compares to the level of detail and imagery captured in the novel. That said, I'm happy to offer some background on this much loved story--its origins and historical context, as well as a summary of the plot itself. Those auditioning for the play will find it helpful and past readers may enjoy this trip down memory lane. But for those of you who'd prefer to be surprised when you come to the performances, you've been warned. Enter at your own risk!

Now that the spoiler alerts are out of the way, let me start by introducing you to our author, Frances Hodgson Burnett. You may already recognize her name if you've read her other children's books, A Little Princess or Little Lord Fauntleroy. Though The Secret Garden is now considered by many to be one of the best children's books of the twentieth century, at the time of her death it was more of a footnote than a success story. In retrospect, many believe it was the fact that The Secret Garden was first published as a serialized story in an adult magazine and only later began to be marketed as a children's novel. In my opinion, this may be why Burnett's story manages to provide layers that appeal to both children and adults. On the surface, it's a charming story about a girl who discovers a mysterious garden and brings it back to life with the help of magic, hard work, and some new friends. And yet, at its core, The Secret Garden is a tale for adults--a study in grief, belief, and redemption.


Plot Summary
Set in 1906, the story opens in India during the British Raj. Ten-year-old Mary Lennox awakens to an empty house and discovers that her parents (along with all of the family's friends and servants) have died of the cholera during the night. She is sent away to Yorkshire, England, to live with her wealthy uncle, Archibald Craven--a man in ill-health whom she has never met. As Mary's parents had long been preoccupied with their own lives, she was raised primarily by servants who tended to give into her demands to keep her quiet. But, upon arriving at Misselthwaite Manor, Mary quickly learns that she'll have to fend for herself--none of the servants care to put up with her "sour" nature and her uncle is so distracted by grief that he scarcely notices her presence.

Upon the urging of her impossibly upbeat maidservant, Martha, Mary eventually decides to explore the vast grounds of the manor as a way to occupy herself. Mary learns the story of how Mrs. Craven died after an accident in one of the estate's walled gardens, causing Mr. Craven to lock the garden door and bury the key in the earth. Mary becomes single-minded in her efforts to find a way into this forgotten garden, and this intensity of focus, along with fresh air and exercise, starts to change her demeanor for the better. She makes friends for the first time in her life--with a similarly stubborn groundskeeper and the spritely Dickon, Martha's younger brother who can speak to the animals and teaches her how to grow flowers of her own. 

Meanwhile, Mary begins to hear strange cries coming through the walls in the mansion. Despite being warned by Mrs. Medlock, the head servant, that she is forbidden to wander the halls or seek out the source of these sounds, Mary's curiosity gets the best of her and she eventually finds herself face to face with Colin, a bed-ridden cousin whom she'd never known to exist. Mary learns that Colin was born only moments before his mother died, causing Archibald so much sorrow that he could not bear to spend time with Colin for fear of having to relive that loss. Aside from a couple of heated stand-offs between Mary and Colin (who were both accustomed to getting their way), the cousins quickly bonded and Mary faithfully came to Colin's bedside to tell him stories of Dickon and the animals.

After some diligent searching, Mary finds the key in the ground and opens the door to the forbidden garden but is disheartened to find it dead. With the encouragement and assistance of Dickon, the two children gradually bring the garden back to life, eventually letting Colin in on their well-kept secret. Mary finally convinces Colin to join them in the garden in his wheelchair, and after repeated trips and a lot of practice, Colin grows healthy in the fresh air, much like his cousin did, and he learns to walk on his own. Colin requests that Dickon and Mary, as well as groundskeeper Ben (who discovers the children together in the garden), keep his miraculous recovery a secret until his father returns. Archibald, who has taken to leaving the manor for long periods in the hope of escaping the haunting memories of his wife, finally returns to the mansion following a dream where Lilias appears to him and urges he'll find her "in the garden." Upon walking through the open door of her garden, Archibald stumbles onto the children playing there. Colin rushes into his arms, and the reunited family walks up to the house together, much to the delight and awe of the staff who see Colin walking for the first time.


Still hungry for more?
If you'd like to go deeper down the rabbit hole of The Secret Garden, the internet is full of great resources. You can find a Spark Notes edition that goes into depth about the novel and its author, including literary themes and character analysis. You might also consider checking out The Annotated Secret Garden, which has a lot of interesting detail about the story and includes great illustrations plucked from the many iterations of the novel.

Finally, you can always go the route of checking out The Secret Garden through film. There are several options to choose from here, but I'd recommend the 1993 version--it's the most recent, it's well-acted, and it's pretty faithful to the original story. As with many book-to-movie adaptations, there are a few changes--most notably that Mary's parents die in an earthquake rather than from the cholera--but the essential ingredients are all there. Here's a trailer for the 1993 version. See you again soon!

Why The Secret Garden?

When I was around ten, my parents gave me a beautiful illustrated edition of The Secret Garden. I had always loved reading, but most of the books I'd devoured up until that point had "Babysitter's Club" in the title and were forgotten almost as quickly as I had finished them. There was something different with The Secret Garden. To this day, it remains one of the only novels I've returned back to again and again. In the years that followed, I would faithfully dig it out at the end of the long winter, hungry to revisit the awakening garden and remind myself of the promise of spring. Interestingly, when I ask people if they've read The Secret Garden, I usually get one of two answers--either they've never heard of it or it's one of their favorite books from childhood. I'd love to hear what the book meant to you in the comments section below!

Though it was written in 1911 and read by generations of kids by the time it got to me (my own mother read the book as a child after her mother recommended it to her), The Secret Garden enjoyed a renaissance in 1987 when the copyright expired and publishers released multiple editions of the book, introducing many new readers for the first time. This resurgence led to several film adaptations, as well as the Broadway musical in 1991. By 1992, The Secret Garden was playing at the Ordway in St. Paul and my parents brought me to see it just in time for my 13th birthday. I was immediately smitten. To this day, I have only met one other person (aside from my parents) who has seen the musical version of The Secret Garden. Most people have no idea it even exists in this form.  Despite winning several Tony awards, it simply fell out of public consciousness after a few years and seems to have become as much a "secret" as its namesake. Lucky for you, that's about to change! In an effort to introduce you to a few of the beautiful, haunting songs from The Secret Garden, below is a video clip taken from the 1991 Tony Awards. Introduced by none other than Julie Andrews, the following offers a glimpse into the Broadway production. In the coming days, check back for more discussion of both the novel and the musical itself.  Enjoy!