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48 pages 1 hour read

Gloria Naylor

Mama Day

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 1988

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Themes

Ritual

Mama Day is highly concerned with the ritualistic behavior of its characters, as well as the myriad ways in which that behavior manifests. Miranda, for example, trusts in her rituals of the “other place,” whereas Dr. Buzzard has his own set of “hoodoo” rituals exemplified, for instance, during his card game with George. However, the novel makes it a point that a “ritual” need not be of the sort of supernatural, arcane variety demonstrated by characters like Sapphira Wade, Miranda, and Ruby. Naylor shows that even the rational-to-a-fault character, George, has his own brand of rituals. In fact, Cocoa criticizes him for this when she says “It was more than a routine; you operated by rituals. A place for everything and everything in its place” (244). The novel often juxtaposes the mythical rituals of Willow Springs with George’s supposedly more rational, logical rituals of his own to show their differences.

While the novel does not present one set of rituals as better than another, it does suggest the dangers of clinging to one’s rituals and remaining closed off to others. George’s failure to adapt to and therefore survive Willow Springs is a result of his inability to reconsider his own rituals, which apply well to the fast-paced, present-focused ethos of New York City but which do not fit into the supernatural, folkloric world of Willow Springs. Throughout the novel, George dismisses the rituals he sees in Willow Springs as hokum, like Dr. Buzzard’s good-luck charms, the funeral ceremony for Little Caesar, and Miranda’s instructions for saving Cocoa’s life. He fruitlessly works toward what he sees to be the practical ways off the island, repairing the bridge or sailing across The Sound, instead of following the locals’ advice to go to the other place. He relies on his own rituals to a fault, rather than being open-minded to the value of the rituals of the island. Naylor argues it is George’s closemindedness—not the idea that one set of rituals is better than the other—that ultimately leads to his downfall. 

Liminality

“Liminality” refers to the quality of being ambiguously stuck between places or identities. For example, people of mixed race often describe a feeling of liminality, of wavering or “drifting” between their two racial identities. This is the same for border towns or cities where two different cultures mingle and absorb aspects of one another.

In Mama Day, both settings and characters can be liminal. Willow Springs is the most obvious example, as it is a place literally in between states, belonging to neither Georgia nor South Carolina. As such, it lacks a traditional form of governmental representation, law enforcement, or any of the other benefits (or drawbacks, as some might consider them) that come with statehood. This only adds to the mysterious, hazy character of the town: it cannot be placed on a map (as much as George tries), it has only one way into and out of it (the bridge, which is destroyed in the novel’s second section), and it is known only by its longitude and latitude lines: 18 & 23.

Another liminal setting in the novel is the “other place.”It, too, remains shrouded in mystery for most of the novel; characters make only passing references to it, and even Miranda avoids talking about it unless she has to. When George describes it, he does so in an almost paradoxical way: it is picturesque with “gentle breezes” (371), but it also “felt uneasy” (371) and “resonated loss” (372). The other place occupies its own liminal space; it is a place responsible for both miracles, such as Bernice’s conception and Cocoa’s recovery, and tragedies, like Peace’s and George’s deaths.

The major characters of Mama Day also occupy liminal places. Cocoa, for example, finds herself torn between moving away from her Day family history, taking her place as a successful New York City businesswoman, and staying true to who she is. Similarly, George is out of place—“homeless”—in Willow Springs because of his failure to adapt his rituals to the demands of his new surroundings. Even Miranda, whom the novel mostly presents as a strong, resolute, and wise figure, grapples with her past, particularly when she discovers her father’s ledger. By placing these characters in a position of feeling out of place or conflicted about where they stand, Naylor exposes their flaws and makes them more human. In some cases, like George’s, the liminality of place and character can lead to characters feeling stuck. But more often than not, this liminality allows for characters to realize who they are and embrace the whole of their identities. 

Change Versus Permanence

Mama Day asks readers to question when change is and is not desirable. Besides being physically liminal, Willow Springs is also temporally liminal. The narration often calls it a place where time stands still. At one point, the narrator explains that “Living in a place like Willow Springs, it’s sorta easy to forget about time. Guess ‘cause the biggest thing it does is to bring about change and nothing much changes here but the seasons” (269). The locals seem to like it that way; for example, they respond to the storm very matter-of-factly, simply going about their days as they usually would. Similarly, many of the locals are skeptical of the changes the younger generations are making to the Candle Walk tradition, which is Willow Springs’ version of Christmas. People find comfort in the status quo and often find change either intimidating or uncomfortable. Additionally, the novel reiterates the message that one can undergo massive personal changes while being unable to break from their history and, ultimately, their identity. For instance, Cocoa and Miranda remain tied to their family legacy, and even when Cocoa moves on from George’s death and starts a family, she stays connected to his memory.

However, the novel also asks readers to consider those times when change is necessary or, more specifically, the lack of change is dangerous. After all, it is not George’s rationality but rather his inability to change that dooms him. The novel explores the dangers of confirmation bias, of only believing what we want to believe and refusing to entertain new information that challenges our worldviews. Psychologists claim that it is human nature to cling to fundamental beliefs and, as a sort of defense mechanism, resist any contradiction to those. However, remaining bound to one’s attitudes, beliefs, behaviors, and rituals can cause a kind of paralysis as well. It is that stasis that figuratively prevents George from swimming to shore, in his nightmare, and, later, literally prevents him from finding what he needs to save Cocoa in the red hen’s nest. Naylor, then, argues for the importance of an open mind, especially when considering whether one’s own rituals are the right ones.

Natural Versus Unnatural Versus Supernatural

In Mama Day, there are frequent clashes between the natural, the unnatural, and the supernatural. For example, when Miranda and Bernice discuss Bernice’s fertility pills, Miranda dismisses them as unnatural, countering that “the only miracle is life itself. And when it comes, it comes” (73). Nonetheless, she agrees to help Bernice conceive at the other place anyway. She justifies it to herself by thinking, “But she wasn’t changing the natural course of nothing, she couldn’t if she tried. Just using what’s there” (233). Later, when Bernice suffers the nasty side effects of the pills, the novel explores the tension between Miranda’s “natural” remedies and the scientific, medical approach of Dr. Smithfield.

Similarly, George is torn on how to interpret the storm that later bears down on Willow Springs: on the one hand, he knows it is a naturally-occurring phenomenon, but he cannot help but be overwhelmed by its seemingly supernatural power, even calling it the work of God. In fact, part of George’s downfall is his inability to make this distinction between the natural and the supernatural. More often than not, his dogmatic belief in logic and reason makes him mislabel the supernatural elements of Willow Springs as “unnatural.” Readers see this when George wanders through the night in Willow Springs, imagining “weird, unnatural rituals behind [the] dogwoods” (429). It is George’s dismissal of Willow Springs’ rituals as unnatural that keeps him paralyzed from saving himself.

The novel also frequently blurs the line between what is natural, unnatural, and supernatural. As George searches for a logical explanation for how the lightning destroyed Ruby’s house, he says, “Others were there, thinking it unnatural as well, but for very different reasons” (452). The incident is simultaneously unnatural, in that it was a result of interference from Miranda; natural, in that it seems to many of the locals to simply be karma or Ruby getting what was coming to her; and supernatural, in that there is no logical explanation for it to an outsider looking in (only Miranda and the readers truly know how it happens). Even Miranda sometimes struggles with drawing the line between the natural and unnatural. For example, she is able to justify to herself why she interferes with Bernice’s conception, but she flatly refuses to get involved in matters of death. Although she staunchly believes in letting things run their natural course and, as Cocoa would say, leaving “well enough alone” (276), she struggles to identify what is truly “natural” in the first place.

What is particularly interesting about this theme is how it overlaps with some of the novel’s other major themes, which causes additional tension in the text. For instance, making readers question what is natural asks them to also question whether the various forms of ritual in the novel are natural or not. The novel itself does not insist that one brand of ritual (e.g., Miranda’s powders and herbs) is any more or less natural than another (e.g., George’s maps and charts), leaving that distinction up to the reader.

This theme also affects the theme of change versus permanence, as it asks readers to question when it is appropriate—if it ever is—to introduce an artificial, “unnatural” change to the natural order. Miranda has no problem with the changes the youngsters are making to Candle Walk, but the same cannot be said for the other locals, who critique the use of manmade items, like kerosene lamps, instead of the traditional candles. On the other hand, “natural” is not always a good thing. After all, confirmation bias is a natural phenomenon, but it is something to be avoided; it is resistance to change taken too far, taken to the point of paralysis. The novel asks readers to draw the line for themselves between the natural, unnatural, and supernatural—it does not do so itself.

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