A Mother In Mannville

The story opens in media res, Latin for “in the midst of things.” The narrator begins with a description of the isolated location and the conditions boys in the orphanage endure. Slipping into dialogue, the narrator then shares details of the lives of the orphans by recounting a conversation with Jerry. It isn’t until the second page that the narrator explains how she has met Jerry. This method of storytelling, common to short stories, quickly draws readers into the world the author creates.

Rawlings’s descriptions of the orphanage, cabin, and Jerry are lyrical, creating a sense of beauty and harmony that mirrors the initial relationship between the narrator and Jerry. He provides excellent service to her, and she eases his implied loneliness. This symbiotic arrangement deepens as Jerry bonds with her pointer dog and again helps her by caring for him when she must leave for a weekend. The narrator’s attempts to reciprocate are awkward at first—she initially offers him money and candy, when what he seems to value is her company—but she eventually invites him into her cabin, providing him with a sense of belonging and family structure.

However, the narrator is not an archetypal mother figure—nurturing, responsive, and self-sacrificing. Her desire for solitude to complete her work implies an independent streak at odds with gender norms of the time, and she generally does not interact with Jerry as a parent would. What she admires about him is his “integrity,” which she defines in large part as his willingness to take responsibility for himself. She therefore treats Jerry as a worker at first, progressing to friendship, with only a glimmer of a nurturing aspect seen when she is upset to learn a mother could leave her son alone in an orphanage. Despite her outrage, she does not follow through on learning more about Jerry’s situation, something her wistful tone implies she may now regret. Their relationship is a missed opportunity for both characters—for Jerry, a missed opportunity to be loved, and for the narrator, a missed opportunity to extend love.

The narrator’s pointer dog serves as a symbol of the kind of unconditional love that might have developed between the two characters. He becomes a companion to Jerry without judgment or analysis of his character. From the first time Pat sees Jerry, he accepts him, as evidenced by his lack of barking when Jerry first arrives at the cabin. The dog recognizes and responds to Jerry’s needs, bonding with Jerry in a deeper way than he has ever done with his owner: “The dog lay close to him, and found a comfort there that I did not have for him” (247). Like Jerry, the dog craves more affection from the narrator than she seems able to provide.

Bonding with the dog while the narrator is away seems to awaken a desire for greater closeness in Jerry: “And it seemed to me that being with my dog, and caring for him, had brought the boy and me, too, together, so that he felt that he belonged to me as well as the animal” (250). The narrator’s guess is in some sense correct, as the evening they spend talking in front of the fire marks the pinnacle of their friendship. In turning the conversation to family, Jerry “speak[s] of things he had not spoken of before” (250), and his words elicit protective feelings in the narrator. In the long run, however, Jerry’s revelation actually distances him from the narrator, who no longer feels a particular responsibility toward him as a parentless child and grows increasingly absorbed in her work.

The narrator nevertheless seems vaguely aware of Jerry’s loneliness as the date of her departure approaches—hence, her efforts to reassure herself that his situation was “none of [her] concern” (254). When she learns on the day she leaves that Jerry has disappeared—the implication being that he is upset—she is “relieved” to be spared a final goodbye. Looking back on this moment, she acknowledges her feelings frankly, not sugarcoating her Rationalization and Guilt.

The story ends with the revelation that Jerry has fabricated the story of having a mother. Several possible explanations for Jerry’s actions suggest themselves. He might have been embarrassed by his situation and in particular by his poverty (the story about having skates is also a lie). He might have been clumsily expressing his desire for a mother figure, as he describes the imaginary mother as similar to the narrator. He might have anticipated the narrator’s departure and made up the story to assuage any sense of guilt, much as he anticipates her needs and desires throughout the work. Perhaps the most likely explanation is a combination of factors, but Rawlings’s choice to end the story abruptly leaves the reader to draw their own conclusions about the lie and its significance. This causes the story to linger in the mind longer than it otherwise would, drawing particular attention to the ways in which the narrator and Jerry have failed to connect with one another and underscoring questions about The Nature of Integrity (i.e., whether it is strict honesty or, as the narrator says, something “more”).