Hannah "Narnie" Schroeder

Character Analysis

From the time Taylor's mom abandons her on the Jellicoe Road, Hannah is the only guardian Taylor knows. And yet it's kind of a bizarre relationship. Taylor actually lived with Hannah for a few years before moving into the Jellicoe School dorms, and you'd think living under the same roof as someone would create intimate ties between them—you know, slumber parties, chick flick movie nights, cookie baking and the like. But in the case of these two, you'd be wrong.

While Hannah certainly cares for Taylor, she has a habit of keeping her distance from her as well: "At times it's like sadness has planted itself on her face, refusing to leave, an overwhelming sadness, and sometimes I see despair there, too" (2.25), Taylor says. Yet Taylor still feels a strong attachment to Hannah because she's been the only stable adult figure in her life since her mom left.

So what's Hannah's deal? Why does she show up and rescue Taylor after she's abandoned, bring her to her house to live with her, but keep her at arm's length? The answer, of course, can be found in Hannah's past as Narnie, the girl in the manuscript Taylor reads.

All that sadness Taylor detects in Hannah? Yeah, she kind of has a good reason for it. Think about it this way: By the time Hannah was about sixteen, she had lost her parents, her brother, and Tate (who ran away after Webb's death)—and that's not counting Fitz's death many years up the road. That's a ton of loss, and arguably more loss than anyone should have to cope with.

The sadness that never seems to fade from Hannah actually precedes the loss of her brother and friends, though. In the manuscript, we get a glimpse of the shadow her parents' death cast over her. She's described—by Hannah herself, the writer—as "the fragile one who couldn't cope with living" (12.92), who smiles so rarely that her brother tells Jude, "When you guys see a Narnie smile, it's like a revelation" (8.36). Yeesh. If there was a poster child for PTSD, it would probably be this kid.

Hang on, though—Hannah might have a serious fragile side, but that doesn't mean she is completely without strength. Check out what she does at the scene of the accident, for instance. It's easy for onlookers to see Narnie staying in one spot in the car and think she was "stuck, frozen with fear, refusing to move" (12.92) and in the shock about what happened.

Narnie, however, tells Jude a different version: She stayed in one spot to prevent her brother from seeing their mother's decapitated body. "Everyone thought I was scared," she says, "but I wasn't. Because if I moved an inch, Webb would see her" (14.120). That's some serious clarity in a time of crisis, as well as pretty selfless.

Then there's the strength Hannah shows in taking care of Tate after she runs away and gets addicted to drugs. Hannah takes Taylor in as a small child, agrees to bring her to the school after Tate declares herself incapable of being a mother, and later fulfills her and Tate's childhood agreement by caring for Tate as she kicks drugs and battles cancer.

When it comes to Taylor, though, Hannah promises Tate that she "was never to be a mother to [Taylor]. You had a mother, she insisted" (24.151). Hannah is so loyal to Tate that she honors this agreement by taking care of Taylor, but keeping her at a distance. In other words, Hannah keeps space between her and Taylor so as not to step into Tate's maternal space.

We here at Shmoop like to think that in spite of the fact that this book is one tragedy piled on top of another, the future looks pretty bright for Hannah and Taylor. At the end of the book, Jude moves in with Hannah, Taylor's pushing really hard for the two of them to just get hitched already, and the loss of Tate will likely enable Hannah to let her guard down and be the mom Taylor needs. Hannah's life may be scarred by loss, but Taylor's discovery of her past can probably enable her to heal in a way she's never been able to before.