Like Mother, Like Mother

In this section, Rieger’s use of allusions continues, characterizing individuals, situations, and relationships. When Grace describes her “quest for Zelda,” she says she feels “like [she’s] looking for Kurtz” (224), referring to a character in Joseph Conrad’s novella, Heart of Darkness. The protagonist, Marlow, must find Kurtz, a successful ivory trader who disappears into Central Africa, as Kurtz becomes increasingly powerful and erratic. He is multitalented and violent, and he achieves a demigod-like status among the Africans. Marlow is present for Kurtz’s final moments and witnesses his behavior. Thus, this allusion highlights several key ideas: the way Zelda has achieved a kind of mythic status within her family, the idea that mental illness played a role in her disappearance, and that—if she abandoned her children to Aldo—Grace will believe her to be emotionally deficient as a mother and human being. By comparing Zelda to Kurtz, Grace is also foreshadowing her own complex emotions about the truth she is about to uncover. Just as Marlow both admires and despises Kurtz, Grace anticipates both relief and resentment if Zelda is still alive. This internal conflict further underscores The Impact of Unresolved Trauma, as Grace is not merely seeking the truth—she is also seeking emotional resolution. The allusion also foreshadows the family’s success in finding her only shortly before her death. 

When Marlow finds Kurtz, he is in awe of the man’s charisma and reputation, but he soon realizes how brutal Kurtz can be. Likewise, Grace finds Frida “gutsy,” but when she asks if Frida “miss[ed] [her kids], [has] regrets, [or] feel[s] guilty,” Frida responds with pitiless honesty, scowling, “No, no, and no […]. You aren’t stupid, why do you ask stupid questions?” (301). This exchange demonstrates Frida’s cold detachment from her past and her children, reinforcing Grace’s worst fears—that Zelda did not die but actively chose to leave. Frida’s refusal to show guilt or remorse strips Grace of the possibility of sympathy and leaves her grappling with the same abandonment Lila experienced. Grace again compares Zelda to Bertha Rochester in Jane Eyre when she learns that Zelda set fire to her room in the psychiatric hospital. In Charlotte Bronte’s novel, Mr. Rochester locks his wife in the attic after her “madness” becomes apparent. He tries to remarry, and she eventually sets fire to the house, an act that destroys it and her and leaves him sightless. Zelda’s fire is a symbolic act of self-destruction and rebellion, much like Bertha’s. It suggests that Zelda’s fate was sealed not just by her own struggles but by the oppressive forces surrounding her. This allusion deepens the novel’s engagement with The Inescapability of Maternal Legacies, as Zelda’s act mirrors Lila’s tendency to burn bridges and abandon emotional ties rather than confront pain. Additionally, Mr. Rochester blames his wife’s condition and her family’s attempts to hide it for ruining his life, just as Aldo claims Zelda ruined his. He never questions his role in her “madness,” like the protagonist’s doctor-husband in “The Yellow Wallpaper,” and neither does Aldo accept any responsibility for making Zelda so miserable that she’d rather abandon her children than live with him. Moreover, the recurring motif of women being pathologized—Zelda, Lila, and even Grace’s perception of herself—reinforces how trauma is often framed as individual weakness rather than the result of systemic oppression or toxic relationships. Both allusions highlight the impact of unresolved trauma on Zelda and her children as well as the inescapability of maternal legacies that connect Zelda to Lila and then to Grace. Grace’s pursuit of Zelda is not just about uncovering the truth but also about trying to escape the emotional inheritance of abandonment and emotional detachment that has shaped her family.

Likewise, when Grace finds Lila’s copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden in Bubbe’s box, the allusion sheds more light on Lila’s character, potentially revealing a softness that is typically unseen by anyone else. The fact that Lila “took this book out a dozen times” before stealing it indicates its importance to her (269). In the novel, Mary Lennox loses both her parents to cholera, and Colin Craven loses his mother when she dies after falling from a tree branch. Mrs. Craven, especially, is idealized, and her reclusive and embittered husband eventually realizes that he cannot isolate and abandon his son just because his wife died. Mary and Colin become friends, surmounting their own personal struggles, and because she returned to it over and over, Lila felt understood or even comforted by the book. Lila’s connection to the novel suggests that, like Mary Lennox, she sought solace in self-reliance and transformation. However, unlike the hopeful resolution of The Secret Garden, Lila’s story does not offer her an escape from the pain of her childhood. This contrast highlights how Lila internalized her trauma rather than overcoming it, reinforcing the cyclical nature of her family’s emotional wounds. Lila’s apparent obsession with The Secret Garden, a story about two motherless children, points to the inescapability of maternal legacies. 

Later, Grace compares Clara’s childhood to Odysseus’s choice between “Scylla and Charybdis” in The Odyssey (233). On his journey home to Ithaca, Odysseus must sail his ship past either Scylla, a six-headed monster who will kill six of his crew, or Charybdis, a terrifying whirlpool that could suck down his ship and kill the entire crew. Odysseus chooses Scylla, reasoning that it would be better to lose six men than his whole ship. Likewise, Clara says Lila forced her to carry a switchblade because she wasn’t safe without it. However, she’d “run home from school and stay inside. Better to die than kill” (233). She must choose between two similarly horrifying choices: the violence outside or Aldo’s abuse at home. This allusion emphasizes how childhood survival for Clara and her siblings was a calculated decision, not an organic experience. It also reinforces the idea that there were no truly safe options—only varying degrees of loss and trauma. The allusion to The Odyssey reinforces the danger and significance of Clara’s childhood decisions—as well as those facing Lila and even Polo—by suggesting that the nature of their choices was life-and-death and every bit as awful as this mythological hero’s choice. It also highlights the impact of unresolved trauma in their lives.

Finally, Grace’s assertion that she, Xander, Ruth, and Nico are a “modern version of Pride and Prejudice,” where Ruth “and Nico [are] Jane and Bingley, and Xander and [Grace] are Darcy and Lizzy, except [Grace is] Darcy” (254), highlights the women’s ability to feel empowered and find love. In Jane Austen’s novel, Jane and Bingley fall in love and overcome some external relationship obstacles, and neither feels they are settling for the other. Darcy and Lizzy, on the other hand, must overcome more significant obstacles, which are primarily the result of their pride and prejudices. Their union takes much longer to achieve, but when it happens, they feel every bit as happy, fortunate, and fulfilled as Jane and Bingley do. Grace understands that she is one who perhaps created a difficult first impression with her prickly demeanor and unwillingness to entertain love, which demonstrates her growth, just as Darcy’s character develops exponentially and leads to his eventual acceptance of responsibility for his actions. By aligning herself with Darcy rather than Lizzy, Grace acknowledges her arrogance and difficulty with emotional expression, marking her as someone who must work toward vulnerability rather than expecting love to happen effortlessly. 

Xander’s allusion to Ira Levin’s The Stepford Wives, when he jokingly expresses a concern that Grace had “been Stepfordized,” provides contrast to Grace’s own comparison. In Levin’s satire, a community of men who are threatened by feminism and unhappy with their modern, liberated wives, start a club in which they transform those wives into submissive, domestic robots. Aldo may have wanted a Stepford wife when he married Zelda, but she was no more content with that role than Lila, Stella, Ava, or Grace would be, and this points to one of the novel’s most significant themes, The Importance of Women’s Personal and Professional Fulfillment. Grace’s ability to reject traditional gender expectations while still embracing love and family signals a shift in the generational cycle. Unlike Zelda, who had to run, and Lila, who had to compartmentalize, Grace learns how to balance ambition and personal fulfillment, finally breaking the chain of maternal trauma that preceded her.

Grace’s journey to uncover the truth about Zelda is not just about discovering what happened but also about understanding herself. Her need for resolution mirrors Lila’s emotional distance and Zelda’s ultimate disappearance, reinforcing the idea that abandonment and emotional detachment are inherited traits within their family. However, while Lila internalized her wounds and Zelda physically removed herself from painful circumstances, Grace actively seeks understanding and connection, signaling a crucial shift in their generational legacy. This distinction highlights Grace’s resilience and her determination to break free from the cycle of avoidance and loss. Unlike Zelda and Lila, who reacted to trauma by shutting down or escaping, Grace processes her emotions by confronting difficult truths head-on. Her evolution throughout the novel suggests that while maternal legacies may be inescapable, they are not necessarily unchangeable—Grace’s willingness to engage with her family’s past rather than repeat its mistakes is what ultimately differentiates her from her family members.