The Mother

Pearl S. Buck

It is hard to know what to make of this early novel (her fourth) by Pearl S. Buck, who had won the Pulitzer Prize the year before for The Good Earth (her second) and would, in a few years, be a Nobel laureate. Hard because it is difficult to reconcile such a widely-acclaimed author with a novel such as this.

In her autobiography, Buck mentions that she almost destroyed the manuscript of The Mother, fearing it wasn't as good as her previously published novels. In this, she was correct. The Mother is not so much a novel as it as a combination of character study and morality play. Other reviewers have commented on the Biblical nature of the events herein, which is likely as apt a description as one is likely to find. The story revolves around, of course, a mother. She is never named, nor are any other members of her family (her husband's last name is mentioned once in the book's two hundred pages, but in such a way as to make it as forgettable as possible). One assumes this is an attempt to give the characters an “everyman” quality. The mother and her family have a hard life, and the mother's life gets harder as time goes on. The crux of the story happens about halfway through the novel, when she is forced to make a decision she ends up regretting for the rest of her life; she blames her hardships from there on out on that decision, forgetting that the hardships that came before put her in that position. (In other words, this is not a criticism of the novel so much as of the character; it is entirely possible Buck meant the character to be erroneous in her judgments, but that doesn't make it any less annoying.) In essence, the novel becomes the chronicles of the hardships of one person, a relentless, depressing catalog of failures unleavened by any successes whatsoever.

Other reviewers have also commented on the universality of the character. I pity them, and anyone else who overidentifies with the mother here. Anyone who has truly suffered this much hardship without the slightest glimmer of joy has been dealt the worst of lots in life, and need all the escapism they can get. It is probable, however, that the majority of readers do, at least, have a few moments of happiness, or at least contentment, now and again. They are rather more likely to question the tunnelvision of the character, and perhaps that of the author as well. Rightly so.