Mama Day

George’s response to Little Caesar’s funeral shows that his previous awe at the natural power of the storm was short-lived, as he once again fails to understand the “rhythm” of Willow Springs. He insists on comparing the locals’ funerary ritual to a prototypical Christian counterpart, remarking on the lack of “sermon, music, tears” (443). His reaction shows he is completely incapable of appreciating the funeral for its own sake, of appreciating the fact that it has its own rhythm and ritual apart from what George considers normal or traditional. He seems almost disappointed by its simplicity: “And that was it…I stood there immobile by the fresh grave, trying to sort out the meaning of all this in my mind” (443). George’s insistence on applying “meaning” and logic to a ritual he does not understand reiterates his failure to understand Willow Springs. Instead, he turns his attention to what he can understand—repairing the bridge off the island—but that will not be enough.

George’s commitment to logic is on display again after he learns about the destruction of Ruby’s property. He tries to find a logical explanation for the incident, thinking, “Theoretically, it is possible, but not probable, for lightning to strike twice in exactly the same place” (451). He hypothesizes that someone could have electrified the ground deliberately but just as quickly dismisses that theory as he realizes that “no one was running around with that kind of knowledge in Willow Springs, and it was highly improbably that it would happen naturally” (451-52). However, this scene is also important in that it again raises the novel’s question of what exactly is natural. Of course, the incident did not happen on its own; readers know it was only through Miranda’s human intervention that the lightning struck Ruby’s property. In that way, the incident was unnatural. However, as George says, other locals took it as a sign that Ruby “was getting her due” (452), which would suggest the incident was an instance of karmic justice, of nature running its course.

When Miranda finds her father’s ledger and Sapphira Wade’s note of sale, she is forced to reconcile her practical dismissal of the past—a quality she shares with George—with her inability to escape her family’s history. Even a character as powerful as Miranda finds herself unable to completely forget the past, and she “opens door upon door upon door” (466) to identify “Sa--.” She feels compelled to uncover the well where her sister, Peace, died, a place obscured by nature and time but never completely forgotten—she knows exactly where it is. In showing Miranda’s inability to escape her history, an inability she shares with the novel’s other major characters, Naylor characterizes her as human. It may be easy for readers to think of Miranda as a larger-than-life figure, perhaps even as a quasi-deity, like Ruby is described; however, she is human and therefore subject to all the flaws that come with it. Naylor further humanizes her at the end of the section when Miranda thinks, “But a mile was a lot to travel when even one step becomes too much on a road you ain’t ready to take” (470). Even Miranda acknowledges the power of confirmation bias and hopes George will ultimately step beyond his comfort zone, despite recognizing how much that would ask of him.