When Lizabeth, the narrator of “Marigolds,” thinks back to the summer when she was fourteen, she recalls the devastating moment when she suddenly became more woman than child: she, her brother Joey, and their friends destroyed the beloved marigolds of their elderly neighbor, Miss Lottie. This marked the end of Lizabeth’s childhood, because her compassion for Miss Lottie in the aftermath was her first experience of seeing the world as complex—a defining trait of adulthood.
While tormenting Miss Lottie seemed funny to the children she was with, Lizabeth felt conflicted in the moment that she was first decapitating some of the marigolds: the kid in her said it was all in good fun, but the woman in her cringed at the thought of hurting an old woman. This inner conflict indicates that Lizabeth is no longer a child who can enjoy juvenile behavior without any remorse or further reflection. Later that night, Lizabeth has to confront even more complexity when she overhears her parents in the other room. Her father bemoans the fact that he can’t find any work and has to rely on his wife to support their family. He sobs loudly, and Lizabeth’s mother comforts him as though he were a child. This is the first time that Lizabeth has ever heard a man cry; she’s bewildered that her strong father could be reduced to tears, and it makes her feel that her world is no longer as neat and ordered as she once thought.
Losing her innocence makes Lizabeth feel rage, and she sneaks out of the house and runs to Miss Lottie’s garden. While she and her friends had previously only decapitated a few marigolds, now Lizabeth tramples the whole patch, ruining every flower. Lizabeth looks up and sees Miss Lottie watching the destruction, and for the first time in her whole life, Lizabeth feels compassion; she’s just destroyed the thing that Miss Lottie values most, and she feels ashamed. The story says that this marks the end of Lizabeth’s innocence, since children are innocent only as long as they accept things at face value. After Lizabeth destroys the marigolds, she is suddenly seeing a more complex truth: Miss Lottie is not a witch, but a broken old woman who dared to grow beautiful flowers. This marks Lizabeth’s transition from childhood to adulthood.
Coming of Age ThemeTracker
Coming of Age Quotes in Marigolds
Poverty was the cage in which we all were trapped, and our hatred of it was still the vague, undirected restlessness of the zoo-bred flamingo who knows instinctively that nature created it to be free.
For some perverse reason, we children hated those marigolds. They interfered with the perfect ugliness of the place; they were too beautiful; they said too much that we could not understand; they did not make sense.
Suddenly I was ashamed, and I did not like being ashamed. The child in me sulked and said it was all in fun, but the woman in me flinched at the thought of the malicious attack that I had led.
The world had lost its boundary lines. My mother, who was small and soft, was now the strength of the family; my father, who was the rock on which the family had been built, was sobbing like the tiniest child. Everything was suddenly out of tune, like a broken accordion. Where did I fit into this crazy picture?
I gazed upon a kind of reality which is hidden to childhood. The witch was no longer a witch but only a broken old woman who had dared to create beauty in the midst of ugliness and sterility.
For one doesn’t have to be ignorant and poor to find that life is barren as the dusty roads of our town. And I too have planted marigolds.