A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

I recently read the book – A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and I’ve fallen in love with it. It is such a beautiful yet simple novel. The book was written by Betty Smith and published in the year 1943.

The protagonist is Frances Nolan (also called Francie) who lives in a poor family, with her father, Johnny and mother, Katie along with her brother Neeley. 

At the beginning of the novel, she’s an eleven year old poor girl and when the novel ends, she’s seventeen, moving away and starting a new life.

The author gives a nice background of Katie and Johnny’s family, and also about Francie and Neeley’s childhood. 

The story gives the point of view of each and every character introduced in the story and that is what makes it so wonderful!

Francie is compared to the tree that grows in her yard (that’s what I interpret). The tree has been described as follows:

The tree in Francie’s yard is neither a pine nor a hemlock. It has pointed leaves which grew along green switches which radiated from the bough and made a tree which looked like a lot of opened green umbrella. Some people call it the Tree of Heaven. No matter where its seed fell, it made a tree which struggled to reach the sky. It grew in boarded-up lots and out of neglected rubbish heaps and it is the only tree that grew out of cement.

Francie faced incredible hardships. At the end, she was no longer poor, due to her and her family's hard-work.

The tree is described resilient, just like her.

The tree whose leaf umbrellas curled around, under and over her fire escape had been cut down because the housewives complained that wash on the lines got entangled in its branches. The landlord had sent two men and they had chopped it down.

But the tree hadn’t died… it hadn’t died.

A new tree had grown from the stump and its trunk had grown along the ground until it reached a place where there were no wash lines above it. Then it had started to grow towards the sky again.

Annie, the fir tree, that the Nolans had cherished with waterings and manurings, had long since sickened and died. But this tree in the yard – this tree that the men chopped down… this tree that they build a bonfire around, trying to burn up its stump – this tree had lived!

Francie’s favourite pastimes were reading books on the fire escape (along with eating candy), and sitting on the tree house to observe different people walking around on the street. 

Honestly, I feel that Francie and I are quite alike. We both like reading and writing, and our favourite subject is English. I can totally relate with Francie when I read these lines:

Yes, when I get big and have my own home, no plush chairs and lace curtains for me. And no rubber plants. I’ll have a desk like this in my parlor and white walls and a clean blotter every Saturday night and a row of shining yellow pencils always sharpened for writing and a golden-brown bowl with a flower or some leaves or berries always in it and books… books… books… .

Honestly, the best part about this book is how we can imagine ourselves there in Brooklyn in the early 1900s. In Francie’s words: “Brooklyn. It’s a magical city and it isn’t real……it’s like – yes – like a dream. The houses and streets don’t seem real. Neither do the people.”

The way Betty Smith describes Brooklyn at that time, makes me long to be part of that era! If I could go to any place at any particular time, it would definitely be Brooklyn during 1917! 

The way Christmas and New Year has been described…it’s just enchanting.

This is the description of the New Year of 1917:

Francie threw open the window. It was a frosty night without a wind. All was still. Across the yards, the backs of the houses were dark and brooding. As they stood at the window, they heard the joyous peal of a church bell. The other bell sounds tumbled over the first pealing. Whistles came in. A siren shrieked. Darkened windows banged open. Tin horns were added to the cacophony. Someone fired off a blank cartridge. There were shouts and catcalls. 

1917!

The sounds died away and the air was filled with waiting. Someone started to sing.  

The book mostly revolves around poverty. At the end when she is moving away form Brooklyn she feels lucky to live a life in poverty in Brooklyn.

The book ends with Francie saying to her younger self (to the eleven year old Francie), “Good-bye, Francie”. I still get shivers when I read this!

I would like to suggest all of you to please go ahead and read this book. It’s absolutely fantastic and you won’t regret it at all.

I’d like to end this post with one of my favourite quotes from this wonderful novel written by Betty Smith:

“There had to be the dark and muddy waters so that the sun could have something to background its flashing glory”