Half Magic

The second oldest sibling and the only boy, Mark is the most logical and rational of the group. He steps in to calm things down when a situation is about to get out of control. After Jane wishes for a fire, he interrupts the arguing children, telling them, “This won’t do any good. We’ve got to talk about it” (12). By talking rather than yelling, they can begin to work out what happened. Mark also has a quick wit. On two occasions—with Achmed and Merlin—he convinces an adult to let the children keep the coin. Merlin even calls him a “wise child” (90), highlighting Mark’s role in developing the theme of The Need for Precise Language and Clear Thinking.

The narrative casts Mark as a patriarchal figure even though he is not the oldest child, and the others, specifically Martha, admire him. After he suggests talking about the fire, Martha feels “less worried, [for] she had great respect for Mark, who was a boy and knew everything” (12). The respect Mark gains is attributed to his gender, which reflects the traditional gender stereotypes at the time. To Martha, if he is a boy, he knows best. Mark knows this: “sometimes he got tired of being the only boy in a family of girls, and when that happened there was no comfort in him” (32). His frustration stems from his belief that his sisters are “just a lot of crazy girls” (32) rather than his desire to have a brother or a male playmate.

Mark is ecstatic to have Mr. Smith as a male role model because he wants a father figure. This is emphasized when Mr. Smith takes the children driving in his motor car: “Mr. Smith showed them the way to shift from high into second without stopping, and Mark thought this almost as magical as anything the charm had done for them so far” (124). This is likely the first father-son moment Mark has ever had since he was too young to remember his late father. When Jane objects to Mr. Smith becoming their stepfather, Mark replies, “It’s good for a growing boy, having a man around the house” (130). While the text enforces outdated gender stereotypes, it also gives Mark a male role model who is kind and generous and fulfills his need for fatherly love.

Katharine, the second youngest and middle girl, is docile and accommodating, the opposite of Jane, and Alison regularly describes Katharine as “a comfort.” This is the main reason Katharine gets angry at Launcelot: She is used to others showing gratitude for her help, and Launcelot’s dismissiveness hurts her feelings and her pride. After she defeats him, she admits that “she had pretended […] that she was doing it for a good deed and really it had just been because she was annoyed with Launcelot for not appreciating her help enough” (84). Despite the text’s judgment of her motives, she is not entirely in the wrong. Instead of thanking Katharine for helping him escape the locked dungeon, Launcelot says, “That much advantage […] I think I can take. Some fair jailer’s daughter would probably have let me out sooner or later, anyway” (75). He is saying that he is justified in taking advantage of Katharine without thanking her because she only did what another girl would have done eventually. Launcelot then asks Katharine to “fetch” his sword and armor. Though the point of the Camelot adventure is to help Katharine learn to be more rational and less ego-driven, modern readers will recognize the misogyny and sexism coded in this episode.

Martha, the youngest, most embodies the impulsivity of childhood. When Katharine recites poetry while walking home from the library, “Martha sat right down on the sidewalk after seven blocks of it, and refused to go a step farther if she had to hear another word of it” (4). Martha’s behavior is much like a toddler’s tantrum. Instead of asking her sister to stop, she acts out. Later, after the fire, the children contemplate making additional wishes, and this terrifies Martha: “Now she was a baby. Her lip trembled, and she said she didn’t want to make a wish and she wouldn’t make a wish and she wished they’d never started to play this game in the first place” (12). Much like her refusal to walk, her trembling lip and refusal to participate signal a potential tantrum. These behaviors repeat for much of the narrative and culminate in her wish at the movie theater to be somewhere else.

Despite her obstinance, Martha demonstrates growth when she begins to think beyond herself and consider others. When Jane leaves them for another family, Martha attempts to help through compassion, calling, “Jane, Jane, come on home out of this cold, slippery house!” (149). Instead of showing frustration or fear, like earlier, Martha recognizes that her sister is in a terrible situation. Furthermore, when the siblings realize the charm has no more magic for them, Martha is the one who suggests the charm would be good for others to use. Her growth arc is meant to show that even young children can learn to care about others, not just themselves.

Alison is the children’s mother and a secondary character in the novel. She is a journalist and writes women’s-society articles for the city newspaper. Since her husband passed away, she is a single, working mother, a rarity in the 1920s. Kind and assertive, she is the family’s de facto leader and manages her roles as a mother and professional without difficulty. Though the novel reinforces outdated gender stereotypes, Alison is not submissive. This is emphasized toward the novel’s end when Martha wishes for her mother to believe in magic. When Alison replies, “Whatever you say, dear” (175), Mark is alarmed and knows something is wrong. He wants the old Alison back: “We don’t want a mother that just agrees with everything all the time!” (175, original emphasis). Mark recognizes the value of Alison’s leadership and wants the other children to as well. In this way, Alison is an empowering female role model for her children.

Alison fulfills the typical adult role in middle-grade literature. While she is at work, Miss Bick watches the children, and Alison has little knowledge of their day-to-day lives. She tries to find rational explanations for the strange things she experiences, and when she cannot, she convinces herself that she is mentally ill and “imagining things.” This leads her to reject Mr. Smith’s proposal, and it is he who restores her sanity when he wishes on the charm after she is fired from the newspaper.

Alison is a flat character and does not exhibit growth in the novel, but over the course of the novel, her true desires become clear. The text rarely refers to her by name: Only Aunt Grace and Uncle Edwin call her Alison when she visits them. Otherwise, the text refers to her as the children’s mother. Foregrounding her role as a mother and minimizing her professional identity sets up the revelation that her heart’s desire is to marry Mr. Smith and stay home with the children. She will remain stubborn and assertive, but she is happier to be in a more traditionally feminine role. Because the text’s values align with this outcome, it would have been impossible for Alison to keep her job—or get promoted—and be happily married to Mr. Smith.