A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Hello, Francie...

Author: Betty Smith

Category: I first read this book in 2007 (incidentally, about a month after I visited Brooklyn for the first time). This is the third time I’ve reread it.

My thoughts: I absolutely love this book. I wish I had read it earlier, but it was nice reading it after I had actually been to Brooklyn, because the novel mentions neighborhoods that I had just been in (Williamsburg and Greenpoint). Francie Nolan is the main character of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. She and her family live in a tenement in Williamsburg, Brooklyn (now home to scores of hipsters) at the beginning of the 20^th century. They are a poor family, and Francie’s father is an alcoholic. Although this is often thought of as a children’s book, I think it’s a book for adults as well. Betty Smith doesn’t shy away from the reality that Francie and her brother Neeley sometimes go hungry, and that their father is drinking himself to death. But there are great lessons about the importance of survival skills, the rewards of education, and the joy and comfort of family.

One thing I love about this book is the descriptions of food. Francie’s mother, Katie, has to make do with next to nothing, and the family’s sustenance consists mainly of stale bread. Out of this, Katie made bread pudding, among other things. Having meat with a meal was special to this family. To the Nolans, food is precious and nothing is wasted (except coffee— Katie allows Francie to pour her cup of coffee down the sink, because it makes her feel rich to waste at least one thing). By the way, I am really fascinated with dishes that early 20^th century immigrants ate.

Francie is born, her grandmother Mary tells Katie, “In teaching your child, do not forget that suffering is good too. It makes a person rich in character.” This is such an old-school piece of parental advice. It’s easy (or maybe preferable) to forget this, but it’s true. Speaking of which, Katie Nolan is certainly not a helicopter parent. In one of my favorite passages, she sends Francie to negotiate with the hard-bitten butcher. It’s a little terrifying, but it’s the moment when, as a reader, you gain respect and admiration for Francie, who deals with the cursing butcher timidly, but she does what she needs to do. I don’t know if I would be able to do that now, much less as an eleven-year-old. In another moment in the book, Francie goes to the cigar store by herself to get a cigar for her father. This definitely would not happen today!

Another great passage is about the tradition of throwing leftover Christmas trees at people at midnight on Christmas Eve. If one could withstand having a tree thrown at them, they got to keep it. Francie volunteers herself and her brother to have a chance to get the biggest tree. I read an excerpt of this chapter back in 7^th grade, and I remember being a bit apprehensive that two skinny kids are able to withstand having a gigantic Christmas tree thrown at them. But they do—these kids are tough as nails.

I seem to keep coming back to this book. I like stories about tough people, especially tough children. Francie has a rough life, but she knows how to hustle. That’s what I like about her. She’s a fighter. A neighbor tells her, “You won’t die, Francie. You were born to lick this rotten life.” Like I said before, I thought of Francie while reading A Hope in the Unseen. Francie, like Cedric Jennings, has both book smarts and street smarts, and fights to get a good education. I think they are both very American stories that embody the idea that hard work and higher education can lead to success. I also think Francie is similar to Maud Martha. Both Francie and Maud Martha are imaginative and strong, and both have to deal with the hard knocks of life, but don’t let those hard knocks defeat them. They both see beauty where others would not.

By the way, I’ve also read one of Betty Smith’s other novels, Joy in the Morning. Not as majestic as A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, but it’s very good.

Great passage: Happy that the meat business was over, Francie bought two cents’ worth of soup greens from the green grocer’s. She got an emasculated carrot, a droopy leaf of celery, a soft tomato and a fresh sprig of parsley. These would be boiled with the bone to make a rich soup with shreds of meat floating in it. Fat, homemade noodles would be added. This, with the seasoned marrow spread on bread, would make a good Sunday dinner.

Up next: I’m rereading another “traditional” children’s book that adults would get a lot out of—Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry.