Tom's Midnight Garden

“This is a nursery! I’m not a baby!”

Tom’s indignant declaration on seeing his new room reveals aspects of his character at this stage in the narrative. His outburst demonstrates ingratitude and a self-centered streak as he fails to acknowledge his aunt Gwen’s attempts to make the room welcoming. Tom’s focus on the bars on the window also expresses his perception of the Kitsons’ apartment as a prison. Despite Tom’s claim that he is “not a baby,” his response ironically indicates his emotional immaturity.

“Nothing…Only this: a great lawn where flower-beds bloomed; a towering fir-tree, and thick, beetle-browed yews that humped their shapes down two sides of the lawn; on the third side, to the right, a greenhouse almost the size of a real house; from each corner of the lawn, a path that twisted away to some other depths of garden, with other trees.”

The Kitsons’ claim that there is nothing worth seeing at the back of the house contrasts with the scene Tom encounters. This first description of the garden vividly conveys its abundance and expansiveness through adjectives such as “great,” “towering,” and “thick.” The personification of the “beetle-browed” yew trees heightens the magical atmosphere of the garden.

“He would run full tilt over the grass, leaping the flower-beds; he would peer through the glittering panes of the greenhouse—perhaps open the door and go in; he would visit each alcove and archway clipped in the yew-trees—he would climb the trees and make his way from one to another through thickly interlacing branches.”

Here, Tom anticipates what he will do in the garden when he next visits. His use of verbs associated with action, such as “run,” “peer,” and “climb,” conveys how the garden offers the prospect of freedom after his stagnation inside the apartment. They also express Tom’s sense of curiosity and adventure.

“Tom became aware that for some time the garden had been filling with sounds—the sound of birds, the sound of leaves moving in morning winds, and all the minute living, breathing sounds of trees and bushes and plants and insects. The sun’s rays gleamed over all the garden, warming it to life and sucking up the drenching dew.”

Pearce describes the midnight garden using vivid sensory language. The repetition of “sound” and “sounds” in the first sentence emphasizes the harmonious symphony created by the many living creatures inhabiting the garden. Meanwhile, the image of the sun “warming it to life” presents the garden itself as a living entity. The description highlights that although Tom enters the past, the environment is more vibrant than his present.

“It’s just a saying, Tom—‘to put the clock back.’ It means, to have the Past again, and no one can have that. Time isn’t like that.”

Alan’s attempt to describe the nature of time to Tom emphasizes the novel’s juxtaposition of childhood and adulthood. His assertion that it is impossible to go back in time contradicts Tom’s lived experience of visiting the past in the midnight garden. Their conflicting viewpoints underline how adults’ logic often distances them from the world of imagination and magic.

“A girl who tags round after them. She is very young and is called Hatty or something.”

Tom’s account of Hatty in a letter to Peter illustrates his character at this point in the story. His dismissive description of her as “very young” and the addition of “or something” conveys his initial disinterest in her. Fixated on making friends with the Melbourne boys, he does not view her as a potential playmate. Tom’s friendship with Hatty later in the novel demonstrates the inaccuracy of his first impressions, illustrating The Transformative Power of Friendship.

“Her secrets and stories poured from her with haste and eagerness as though she were afraid that Tom’s company would not be hers for long.”

When she and Tom finally meet, Hatty’s verbosity illustrates her loneliness. Despite living in the same household as her three cousins, she is starved of meaningful human connection. Her disclosure of her “secrets” demonstrates her perception of Tom as a trustworthy friend and confidante.

“Each night, when he walked into the garden, he forgot to be a detective, and instead remembered only that he was a boy and this was the garden for a boy and that Hatty was his playmate.”

This passage conveys the joyful impact of the midnight garden on Tom. By day, he takes on the role of “detective,” preoccupied with attempting to understand how time works in the garden, identify its historical period, and determine whether Hatty is a ghost. However, once he reenters the garden, these questions seem irrelevant as he enjoys the moment, embracing the freedom and innocence of childhood.

“Hatty did not speak: it seemed to Tom that she could not. All the persons that her fancy had ever brought into this garden—Biblical heroes and fairies and the people of legend and hearsay and her own imagination—all her friends fell away from her now. Even Tom could not speak for her or lift a finger to help her.”

Hatty’s vulnerability is emphasized after her aunt launches a cruel verbal attack on her. The devastating impact on Hatty is illustrated in her inability to speak, which sharply contrasts with her usual loquaciousness. Hatty’s powerlessness is echoed by Tom, who is invisible to the rest of the Melbourne family and, therefore, unable to intervene. The passage highlights the power imbalance between adults and children and the consequences of the abuse of this power.

“He never saw the little Hatty again. He saw the other, older Hatty, as usual, on his next visit to the garden. Neither then nor ever did he tease her with questions about her parents. When sometimes, Hatty remembered to stand upon her dignity and act again the old romance of her being a royal exile and prisoner, he did not contradict her.”

Tom’s character development is highlighted after encountering the younger, newly orphaned Hatty, who gives him insight into the loss she has suffered. Feeling empathy for his friend, he never again challenges her story that her parents are the rulers of another kingdom and that she is an imprisoned princess. Indulging her fantasies, Tom recognizes that they offer Hatty an imaginative escape from the harsh realities of life.

“Tom saw beyond the garden and the house, to a lane, down which a horse and cart were plodding. Beyond the lane was a meadow, and then a meandering line that he knew must be the river. The river flowed past the meadow, and reached the village, and passed that. It reached a white handrailed bridge and slipped under it; and then away, towards what pools and watermills and locks and ferries that Hatty and Tom knew nothing of? So the river slipped away into the distance, in the direction of Castleford and Ely and King’s Lynn, to the grandeur of the sea.”

Standing on the tallest wall in the garden, Tom enjoys a panoramic view of the nearby river. The passage underlines the river’s role in the novel as a symbol of freedom and the passage of time. The lengthy description of the river’s course, including verbs such as “flowed,” “passed,” and “reached,” emphasizes the vastness of the landscape beyond the garden. The places that the river passes through that neither Tom nor Hatty has visited become a metaphor for the world of adulthood.

“He was shut out from Hatty; and he was also shut out from his own bed in the Kitsons’ flat. But the fear for Hatty remained greater than the fear for himself.”

Tom’s character development is demonstrated when Hatty falls from the treehouse and Abel locks him out of the house. His concern for Hatty’s welfare supersedes his own plight, illustrating that Tom has become less self-centered. His sense of impotence also foreshadows the moment, later in the story, when Tom is “shut out” from the midnight garden entirely.

“Tom was thinking about the Past, that Time made so far away. Time had taken this Present of Hatty’s and turned it into his Past. Yet even so, here and now, for a little while, this was somehow his Present too—his and Hatty’s.”

The novel underlines The Impact of History on the Present as Tom reflects on his ability to visit the past through the midnight garden. His realization that the past and present are inextricably linked in this world conveys the story’s message that history remains a living part of every era.

“Tom felt a tightness round his ribs, as though he were being squeezed apart there. He wanted two different sets of things so badly: he wanted his mother and father and Peter and home—he really did want them, badly; and, on the other hand, he wanted the garden.”

The protagonist experiences inner turmoil as he battles conflicting desires. Although Tom continues to miss his home and family, he does not want to leave the midnight garden behind. Tom’s physical sensation of “being squeezed apart” conveys how having to choose between these options makes him feel as if he is being torn in two.

“Tom looked at the river-water: it did not look foul, but he saw that the weeds below the surface of the water, instead of being slim and green and shining, were clothed in a kind of dingy, brown fur. There were no geese about, nor any waterfowl. There certainly seemed to be no fish. On the other hand, there was a large quantity of broken glass, broken crockery and empty tins dimly to be seen on the river-bed.”

Visiting the river with Gwen in the present, Tom discovers that, due to pollution, it is unrecognizable from the one he visited with Hatty. The adjective “dingy” and the adverb “dimly” convey how the waterway is despoiled and devoid of life. Contrasting with the vibrancy of the river in Hatty’s era, the description critiques the negative impact of urbanization.

“As they came in through the front-door of the big house, the first thing Tom heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock. It would tick on to bedtime, and in that way Time was Tom’s friend; but, after that, it would tick on to Saturday, and in that way Time was Tom’s enemy.”

This passage illustrates Tom’s erratic attitude toward the grandfather clock in the story. The clock symbolizes time, which Tom alternately perceives as his “friend” or “enemy,” depending on his circumstances. The clock’s ticking is welcome since it anticipates his next visit to the midnight garden. However, the sound is also a reminder of the passage of time as the day he must return home approaches. On a larger level, Tom’s feelings are a reflection on mortality and the human difficulty in accepting a limited life span.

“Tom had been ready for changes in Hatty; what took him utterly by surprise, when he opened the garden door, was a change in the season. It was mid-winter—not a dreary, grey mid-winter, but one shining with new-fallen snow. Every tree and bush and plant was muffled in white.”

Tom’s first experience of snow in the midnight garden underlines the symbolism of the seasons in the novel. The change from summer to winter reflects the parallel alteration in Hatty as she grows from childhood to adulthood. The “shining,” pristine snow and Tom’s observation that it is “not a dreary, grey mid-winter” reflect how the garden’s appearance is filtered through Mrs. Bartholomew’s memory. In her recollections, the weather is always perfect.

“As though the ice made an enchantment, he forgot the problem of Time he had to think of—forgot that he had anything to think of. Hatty swooped away from him, and he swooped after her on a more glorious iceslide than he and Peter had ever found in the streets at home; but his sliding ended sooner than Harry’s skating, and his action was earthbound, whilst hers was like a strong bird’s.”

As Hatty approaches adulthood, she and Tom recapture the joy of their childhood escapades on the frozen river. The author uses bird imagery to convey their sense of freedom as they “swoop” on the ice. However, the moment of unity is brief, as Tom is hampered by his lack of skates. The realization that he is “earthbound” while Hatty continues to fly across the ice emphasizes their growing differences. While Tom remains a child, Hatty’s adulthood gives her new freedom, allowing her a life beyond the confines of the garden.

“Two skaters on one pair of skates, which seemed to Tom both the eeriest and the most natural thing in the world.”

Hatty and Tom’s ability to wear the same pair of skates simultaneously emphasizes the novel’s exploration of the intersection of history and the present. Hatty’s skates exist in both time zones, demonstrating how the past and present are inextricably linked. Tom’s observation that the experience is both eerie and “the most natural thing in the world” underlines the transformative power of friendship, while their sharing of the skates symbolizes the strong bond they have forged.

“Hatty had pinned her skirt up above her ankles, for greater freedom of movement; and now she abandoned the use of her muff, the better to swing her arms in time with their skating.”

Hatty’s clothing adjustment before she skates to Ely highlights the societal expectations of her era. Throughout the course of the story, Pearce demonstrates how Hatty’s freedom is constrained not only by her aunt but also by Victorian concepts of what is “ladylike.” By raising her skirt’s hem and discarding her muff, Hatty defies convention in favor of “freedom of movement.”

“The gig drove on. Tom sat alone in his thoughts, while the other two talked over him or through him, with an increasing delight in each other’s company. A village church clock struck across the darkened countryside, and Tom thought of Time: how he had been sure of mastering it, and of exchanging his own Time for an Eternity of Hatty’s and so of living pleasurably in the garden forever. The garden was still there, but meanwhile Hatty’s Time had stolen a march on him, and had turned Hatty herself from his playmate into a grown-up woman.”

This scene juxtaposes childhood and adulthood as Tom sits between Hatty and Barty on their journey home. Pearce demonstrates how his companions’ conversation goes literally and metaphorically over Tom’s head. As the older couple talks “over him or through him,” Tom’s sense of loneliness is conveyed. The darkening landscape reflects his sadness and sense of loss as he learns a hard lesson about the inevitability of change.

“He would go down the sundial path, and then turn right and run along the shadowy tunnel-path between the yew-trees and the nut stubs, and come out into the sunshine again by the asparagus beds, and perhaps see Abel digging a root of horse-radish by the early apple-tree and Hatty, a little girl again, in her blue pinafore, waiting to spin her tales for him.”

Tom’s anticipation of his final visit to the midnight garden is imbued with nostalgia. The details that he envisions display his desire to go further back in time to when Hatty was still a young child. The image of the blossoming apple tree and the emerging asparagus suggests late spring or early summer, the seasons associated with innocence and youth.

“Her bright black eyes were certainly like Hatty’s; and now he began to notice, again and again, a gesture, a tone of the voice, a way of laughing that reminded him of the little girl in the garden.”

Childhood and adulthood are again juxtaposed as Tom recognizes Hatty’s features and manner in the elderly landlady, Mrs. Bartholomew. Although significantly aged, he realizes that she is still essentially the girl he knew so well. The revelation demonstrates that, despite growing old, she has retained her inner child, evidenced by their immediate connection.