Blackberries symbolize Sal’s changing relationship to Momma’s memory as she processes Momma’s death. As Sal tells stories of life before Momma left for Lewiston and died in an accident, she explains how much Momma loved blackberries. And because Sal loves Momma, she comes to associate blackberries with Momma. Indeed, after Sal witnessed Momma kissing a tree and leaving a stain on it after eating blackberries, Sal discovered that all trees, when kissed, taste a bit like blackberries. Thanks to the blackberries, Sal associates not just the fruit, but all trees, with her mother.
As Sal starts to accept and move on from Momma’s death, her relationship to blackberries starts to shift. While at first Sal can’t even eat a blackberry pie at the Winterbottoms’ house because of how much the fruit reminds her of Momma, Sal gradually begins to associate blackberries with happier things. Ben, for instance, is the only person in Sal’s class who doesn’t tease her when Mr. Birkway reads Sal’s journal entry about Momma’s “blackberry kiss” out loud. And as Sal and Ben’s relationship becomes romantic, they both talk about their kisses—which are framed as wholly positive—tasting like blackberries. As such, Sal begins to associate blackberries not just with her mother, but with her and Ben’s romance—a relationship that’s pleasant, exciting, and even revitalizing for Sal. With this, Sal discovers that blackberries, and Momma’s memory, don’t just have to make her sad. Rather, Sal can remember and honor Momma, even as she grows up and starts to move on after Momma’s death.
Blackberries Quotes in Walk Two Moons
Just then, she came in from the back porch. My father put his arms around her and they smooched and it was all tremendously romantic, and I started to turn away, but my mother caught my arm. She pulled me to her and said to me—though it was meant for my father, I think—“See, I’m almost as good as your father!” She said it in a shy way, laughing a little. I felt betrayed, but I didn’t know why.
It is surprising all the things you remember just by eating a blackberry pie.
“But for now,” he said, “we have to leave because your mother is haunting me day and night. She’s in the fields, the air, the barn, the walls, the trees.”
In my mini journal, I confessed that I had since kissed all different kinds of trees, and each family of trees—oaks, maples, elms, birches—had a special flavor all its own. Mixed which each tree’s taste was the slight taste of blackberries, and why this was so, I could not explain.
If there had been a vase, would have squashed it, because our heads moved completely together and our lips landed in the right place, which was on the other person’s lips. It was a real kiss, and it did not taste like chicken.
And then our heads moved slowly backward and we stared out across the lawn, and I felt like the newlY born horse who knows nothing but feels everything.
Ben touched his lips. “Did it taste a little like blackberries to you?” He said.