Growing Up: A Story of the Girlhood of Judith Mackenzie
Edition facts
The novel opens with a distinctive ritual: Judith, as a child, began "telling pictures" to her invalid mother at five o'clock in the afternoon, a practice that continues into her girlhood. This framing device—a story told through images conjured by words—establishes a pattern of visual, scene-based narration. The epigraph from Owen Meredith's "The Horn Book" reinforces the theme of childhood lessons shaping adult understanding. The first chapter shows Judith writing a letter to her Aunt Affy, then reading it aloud to her mother, a moment that blends domestic intimacy with the act of storytelling. The narrative voice moves between Judith's perspective and an omniscient observer, capturing her "quaint and unchildish" turns of phrase.
Picture-Telling as Narrative Structure
The recurring image of "telling pictures" is not merely a childhood game but a structural principle. In the opening chapter, Judith's mother asks her to "tell me pictures," and the narrator explains that this began when Judith was seven. The pictures grow as she grows, suggesting that the novel itself is a series of such verbal images. Later, when Judith reads her letter aloud, the content is described as "the quiet story of her mother's days"—another picture told. This technique allows the narrative to shift between present action and remembered or imagined scenes, creating a layered texture. The horn book metaphor from the epilogue extends this: life is a book of pictures we learn to interpret.
Letters and Unspoken Messages
Letters serve as both plot devices and windows into character. Judith writes to Aunt Affy, and later receives a letter from Don that she hides, feeling her "burning cheeks" and a tumult of emotion. The letter is described as "not worth the writing," yet it clearly affects her deeply. Similarly, the conversation between Uncle Cephas and Roger about Jean Draper's marriage is overheard by Marion and Judith, revealing how news travels and is interpreted within the household. The act of reading aloud—Judith to her mother, Marion listening at the window—creates a pattern of indirect communication. What is left unsaid, or only half-said, carries as much weight as the spoken words.
Domestic Spaces and Thresholds
The physical settings are carefully delineated: the mother's room with its grate and bay-window, the dinner table set for three, the open window where Marion listens. These spaces define the characters' relationships. Judith moves between the window (where she writes and reads) and the fire (where her mother sits), embodying her transition from child to young woman. The kitchen, where Judith burns the chops while eavesdropping, is another threshold—a place of domestic labor and overheard conversation. The garden roses on the table link the indoor world to Aunt Affy's outdoor space. These recurring locations anchor the narrative in a tangible, sensory world.
Religious Debate and Moral Authority
Uncle Cephas and Roger's argument about marriage and scripture occupies a long passage, with Uncle Cephas citing Joshua's command against intermarriage with "the remnant." Roger counters that David Prince, though not a professing Christian, may be one "and doesn't know it." This debate reflects broader tensions in the novel between strict religious doctrine and a more compassionate, individualistic faith. Judith listens while cooking, and Marion listens at the window, both absorbing the conflict. The narrator does not resolve the argument, leaving the reader to weigh the positions. This scene exemplifies how the novel uses everyday conversations to explore moral questions without didacticism.
Readers attentive to the novel's structure will notice how each chapter title—"The Horn Book," "Square Root and Other Things," "The Best Thing in the World"—echoes the thematic concerns of the section. The movement between interior monologue, dialogue, and narrated action rewards careful attention to shifts in perspective. The incomplete excerpts leave many plot threads unresolved, but the patterns of imagery and conversation offer a coherent view of Judith's world.