“One of the new things people began to find out in the last century was that thoughts—just mere thoughts—are as powerful as electric batteries—as good for one as sunlight is, or as bad for one as poison. To let a sad thought or a bad one get into your mind is as dangerous as letting a scarlet fever germ get into your body. If you let it stay there after it has got in you may never get over it as long as you live.”
My grandmother gifted me The Secret Garden when I turned 11-years-old. Inside the book she wrote: “Happy 11th Birthday. Enjoy this book as much as I did.” Enjoy it, I did. I loved every detail about the garden and imagined myself happening upon something as enchanting and beautiful as a secret garden. I wanted to be Mary. I wanted to discover something. I wanted a plot of land of my own, hidden from the world around me, to plant roses. I wanted to spend my days outdoors with friends going on mysterious adventures.
What I realize now, rereading the book as an adult, is that Frances Hodgson Burnett was depicting an idyllic childhood, one that every child should have. A childhood that all children desire and need. The book appealed to my younger self because I wanted that childhood, too. I longed to do what all children desire: I wanted to satiate my uncontrollable curiosity, breathe in the fresh air, play until the sun went down, determine for myself how my day ought to be spent, jump rope until my legs nearly gave out, and search for glimpses of magic.
The Secret Garden is a classic, read by grandmothers and passed down to their granddaughters, because the story is timeless and universal. Just like many other works of literature granted the title of classic, it gets at the heart of what it means to be human. Children need sunlight and hope, as all humans do.
The Magic of the Secret Garden1
Mary, the main character of The Secret Garden, arrived at Misselthwaite Manor after her parents passed. Her life of adventure, discovering and exploring secret gardens, began at the manor. Mary’s life prior, while living in India, was absent of adventure. She was shut up indoors, raised by servants who attended to her every need, and was never left alone to roam freely. She was considered to be a disagreeable girl who was too thin, always ill, and was largely ignored by her parents.
At Misselthwaite Manor, Mary was expected to dress herself and entertain herself—two things she’d never been expected to do before. She was given freedom to roam (most) of the estate and was encouraged to spend more time outside to make herself well and strong, which she quickly became. Her attitude, after spending much time outdoors gardening and skipping rope, improved as well.
When Mary arrived at the manor she had a sour disposition that was noticed by anyone who encountered her. As time passed, and as her body became that of a healthy young girl, her mood and outlook on life simultaneously improved. She woke up excited for the day ahead of her and had difficulty pulling herself away from her outdoor activities to return home for meals and bedtime.
Two Thoughts Cannot Be in One Place
Mary’s housemate and friend, Colin, experienced the same evolution. He was wheelchair and bed bound, led to believe that he was at death’s door for his entire childhood. Colin was consumed by his worries about early death until Mary convinced him that none of these thoughts were based in reality and lured him outside into the sunlight with stories of secret gardens. Not only did Colin become well by rays of sunlight, abandoning the wheelchair he had been convinced he required, he also began devising a scientific experiment and believing in magic. He started looking towards the future and stopped foreseeing death. In other words, he had hope.
Sunlight and hope are needed for human survival. At a minimum, they are necessary for humans to thrive. Sunlight grants one the ability to see and provides Vitamin D, which helps to sustain good health, both mentally and physically. Hope helps humans persist through difficult situations, with the feeling that good things will come. Another theme of The Secret Garden is the notion that thoughts, mere thoughts, can change how one perceives the world. Going outside, into the sunlight, then takes on a new meaning: By living in the light, Mary and Colin change their perspective on life. Yes, they became physically and mentally healthier by being outdoors all day, but the sunlight also crowded out any negative, false thoughts that previously consumed them.
Hope and Light
Re-reading The Secret Garden made me realize that the themes of hope and light are persistent throughout literature. Because both are ingredients for human flourishing, both are found in works of literature throughout history. Sunlight, or light specifically, is described with multiple meanings. Light is used as a metaphor to describe things like the pursuit of truth or as a mechanism to detect falsehoods. Hope is often more explicitly apparent in stories to show how a character persists through hard times.
Two works in particular came to my mind when thinking about the enduring themes of hope and light: Plato’s allegory of the cave found in his Republic and Prometheus Bound.
Plato’s allegory of the cave uses sunlight to signify the pursuit of truth and as a physical representation of intelligence. The allegory is told by Socrates through the story of cave dwellers who live in darkness and only know what is shown to them by the light of a fire. Socrates asks his interlocutors to imagine that a lack of education is analogous to living in a cave, where prisoners must keep their heads motionless throughout life. They can't look around, they can’t ask questions, they can't even look at their neighbors. They only see and know what they are told, what is projected in front of them. Socrates then asks his interlocutors to imagine that one of the prisoners was freed and brought out of the cave, into the sunlight, and cured of his ignorance. The prisoner would see the light and thus come to know the truth, leaving behind the darkness of the cave, their ignorance.
Fire, which can be viewed as a stand-in for sunlight, is another metaphor for the light of intelligence. In Prometheus Bound, the Greek tragedy by Aeschylus, Prometheus is being punished by Zeus for causing humans to stop foreseeing death. To achieve this, he placed in them blind hope and he gave them fire. With fire, Prometheus claimed that “mankind shall learn many crafts.” Perhaps this means they can now make tools with fire or see by the light of fire to make things. Or maybe, if we understand fire to be a symbol for light more generally, he meant that the light of intelligence will allow humans to learn, to come to know things.
In this, and many other instances, hope is linked to light because by living in the light—with the rays bearing down on the skin and the environment—and seeing the light—the truth—one’s perspective of the future shifts in a positive way.
Human Flourishing and the Classics
Human survival is dependent on the nutrients provided by the sun, the knowledge that is acquired by looking towards the sun for the truth, and the positive outlook that results from seeing what is possible when viewing the world through the light of the sun. When Mary and Colin enter the sunlight, their story shifts from one of two disagreeable children to a story about an idyllic childhood, the one that every child desires. But their story is not new. Because hope and light are integral to the human experience, the symbols and use of them as metaphors can be found everywhere, which is what makes the Secret Garden universal and timeless—a classic.
Are you a parent interested in having your child read classic stories like the Secret Garden? Sign them up for the Young Wanderers program! Enrollment closes August 3rd and will not reopen until December (at which time prices will increase).