Book Review: The Secret Garden
Book Title: The Secret Garden
Author: Frances Hodgson Burnett
Purchase: Amazon
Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Description from Goodreads:
On the grounds of Misselthwaite, her Uncle Archibald's estate near the Yorkshire moors, nine-year-old Mary Lennox finds a walled-in garden that has been locked securely for years. With the help of Dickon Sowerby, a young local boy who can charm animals, Mary cultivates the garden, an experiences that both improves her health and raises her spirits. Ultimately, the secret garden proves beneficial not only to Mary, but to her sickly cousin Colin. Nurtured with love and tenderness, the secret garden proves it has the power to heal the heart.
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars
This year, I’ve been on a mission to read classics that have long-sat in my to-be-read pile. All I knew of The Secret Garden going into the book were vague recollections of a movie trailer with children running, laughing, and pushing a wheelchair. Not much to go on, huh? Oh, and I didn’t recall any gardens whatsoever.
Imagine my surprise when the first chapter introduced me to Mary Lennox, a sour-faced entitled brat of a child living in hot, dry India with a noticeable lack of gardens. At first glance, she doesn’t seem particularly likable or rootable, though I do feel immediate sympathy for a child so utterly neglected by her parents and loved by no one. Mary as we first meet her is an unfortunate product of her upbringing and I can’t hold that against her.
When Mary’s parents die from cholera, she’s sent off to live with an unknown uncle on the English moors, and there her story really begins. Mary meets a whole cast of interesting characters, including the lovely Martha, who incites deep reflection when she asks Mary if she likes herself. Mary spends transformative time outdoors learning how to be by herself, developing a deep appreciation for nature, and learning what it really means to be alive. For the first time in her life, she also spends time with other children, which inspires self-awareness and teaches her how to build friendships and accept different personalities.
This short novel reads as a passionate love letter to Spring and the natural world. There’s a subtle theme of magical realism throughout, especially when it comes to Dickon, a twelve-year-old animal whisperer who can converse fluently with robins. But the real magic is completely natural — roots stretching through fertile soil, sun-bathed buds bursting into vibrant stalks, the resilience of both plants and children alike. Each chapter is like a new petal unfurling, reaching out to greet the world with joy.
Mary and Dickon’s adventures out on the moors and in the gardens brought me back to my own childhood, to long and lazy summer visits to my cousins in the country. “Go outside and play” was a constant refrain from our parents, just like Martha instructs Mary, though we needed little encouragement. We’d explore babbling creeks, hopping from smooth rock to rock, or pick bouquets of wildflowers, holding buttercups beneath each other's chins. We’d spend hours coming up with little dances or shows to put on for our parents and set make-believe meals in the playhouse.
We lived in a half-imaginary world from sun-up until sun-down filled with animals, plants, and pretending just like Mary, Dickon, and later Mary’s sickly cousin Colin. The Secret Garden perfectly captures the feeling of those innocent summer adventures and I so enjoyed journeying back to that world, even just for a little while, as an adult. It’s also a powerful reminder of the beautiful world waiting outside our homes and screens.
