A Tree Grows in Brooklyn- Betty Smith

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn came with me on a cross-country flight. On the plane and in the airport, three different people came up to me and asked if I was enjoying the book, because they remembered reading it when they were young. For many, the book is not only about the experience of childhood, but part of childhood itself.

Not so with me. I first attempted this book as a 12 year-old; I abandoned it because the first scene was just too rosy—it opens on 11 year-old Francie enjoying a glorious summer Saturday. She buys penny candy (“oh! The glorious things I could buy with this nickel!”), checks out a library book (“I am reading every book in the library, starting at the beginning of the alphabet, oh how I wish I could read all the books in the world!”), and surveys her neighborhood from the fire escape of her home (“isn’t Brooklyn the most wonderful place you could ever imagine?”).

At the onset, I was irritated by Francie’s naivete. But then I felt like a huge jerk, because 50 pages in I realized that Francie’s childlike wonder was illustrated largely so readers could observe its near-instant evaporation. The charming father slowly drinks himself to death, the hard-working mother barely conceals her favoritism for the other child, and Francie grows up feeling painfully alone. She plays “North Pole” with the family when they have no more food in the house. She receives poor grades in school when she writes about her life and a teacher lectures her that “poverty, starvation and drunkenness are ugly subjects to choose.” She is nearly abducted by a rapist.

There is a hard edge to the narrative, but it is not without sweetness— the grim bits are folded in the golden honey of nostalgia, by turns poignant and cloying. Ultimately, I was won over by Francie—as the story wore on and she was faced the premature responsibilities and disappointments of adulthood, I was relieved when her old sentimentality and sensitivity bobbed to the surface. I was also touched by Francie’s complicated and yet kindred relationship with her mother, and their shared resolve to keep the family alive.

The most compelling character, however, is Brooklyn itself. The book offers a window into early 20th century New York City, the indignities of tenement life, the troubled diversity of immigrant neighborhoods, and the anticipation of the Great War. The horrors and wonders of Brooklyn are what make this book, particularly for those who know and love Williamsburg.

The ending of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn seems facile but, frankly, had the book ended 20 pages earlier it would have destroyed me. I am therefore willing to forgive the dubious/ highly convenient change in circumstances that allows Francie’s family to pull through. This plot resolution is essential, because otherwise this book would be called A Tree Tries Desperately to Survive in Brooklyn and Tragically Fails.