Mama Day

The coming of the storm represents another clash between the natural and the unnatural: while the meteorologists on television and radio urge locals to listen to the bulletins, Miranda says, “You better listen to the crows” (388). She rejects the notion that manmade technology like bulletins and forecasts are more accurate predictions than her own interpretation of the natural signs. Just as the narration of an earlier section critiqued man’s use of clocks and calendars to contain time, Naylor likewise challenges the idea that artificial and therefore unnatural tools can contain the natural force of the weather. The novel raises the question of whether these tools are just rituals to make people feel like they can control these inexplicable, powerful natural phenomena.

George’s reaction to the storm also provides another glimpse into his struggle to reconcile the logical and rational with what he cannot explain. Thinking of religion, he states, “All of the bloodletting and chaos, the devotion and beauty, martyrdom, and even charity could be reduced to a simple formula” (414-15); however, he then concedes that “the winds coming around the corner of that tiny house on that tiny island was God” (415). Brought face-to-face with the power of nature, George realizes—if only briefly—that the natural course of things cannot be contained by human reason. For the moment, George feels small and unimportant in the face of such “pure power” (415). However, this is momentary for George, who remains tied to his belief in rationality.

One of the more shocking moments in the novel comes in this section, where readers learn that Berenice’s much-loved son, Little Caesar, has died. The death of Little Caesar reveals where Miranda draws the line when deciding to use her powers. The narrator writes, “Some things go beyond curiosity” (423), and Miranda seems to agree, as she flatly tells Bernice that there is nothing she can do for the child. This is “one of those moments” (424) when Miranda prefers to leave things alone rather than interfere with the natural order. One of the novel’s themes is the three-way clash between the natural, the unnatural, and the supernatural, but that clash can also sometimes be a blending: it is not always clear what is natural, unnatural, or supernatural. For example, the storm is natural in the sense that it is a result of predictable, recurring weather patterns; however, it takes on almost supernatural qualities in George’s description of its power. Similarly, a tragedy like the death of a child is natural in the sense that death is an inevitable part of life, but it is unnatural in the sense that it seems untimely and unfair: society believes that people are “supposed” to die in old age, not as children. Little Caesar’s death could even be read as supernatural, as no one truly knows what caused it. The narrator tells readers that “Folks is sure to disagree for years about what caused the death of Little Caesar” (422).

Beyond helping readers understand Miranda’s character, Little Caesar’s death shows how events transform into myths. The tragedy itself becomes a part of Willow Springs folklore; it will be a story told over and over as it is passes through generations. The story of Little Caesar adds yet another chapter to the town’s mythical legacy. By blurring the line between natural, unnatural, and supernatural, Naylor also shows how a perfectly “natural” occurrence can be transformed into something “supernatural” through memory and storytelling.