Abyssinia Jackson

Character Analysis

Just a Small Town Girl…

Born as the Civil Rights Movement is just picking up steam, and as the world beyond Ponca City prepares to protest, Abyssinia enters into a pretty ordinary childhood. She has two loving parents, Patience and Strong, is embraced by the women in the community who attended her birth, and spends her free time playing with her best friend, Lily Norene. Abby isn't alone in this ordinariness, either—for the kids in Ponca City, daily life is pretty carefree:

Generally, Abyssinia and the other children played in the backyards of Ponca City where all the washing was hung out on one day, where the vegetable garden was cultivated and harvested, where the chickens were fed, and—for the fortunate—where there was a tree old enough to support a swing.

The door leading from the kitchen to the backyard was left open so that Patience could watch Abby and her best friend, Lily Norene, while overseeing the washing and preparing homemade peach ice cream. (6.1-2)

See what we mean? Life is but a dream (filled with peach ice cream), right? Abby and the other kids are free to roam and play, watched over and cared for and free to be kids. For readers, this has the effect of making childhood in Ponca City easy to relate to—Abby may be black and growing up during the Civil Rights era, but her childhood is one that readers from all eras and backgrounds can relate to. Insofar as the book aims to foreground the individual humanity of black people, this is key: It is quite hard not to see a bit of your own childhood in Abby's, and because of this, a bit of yourself in Abby, too.

Living in a Lonely World…

All good things must come to an end, as they say, and Abby's childhood takes a seriously dark turn—first a tornado rips through town, destroying her father's business and mental stability, and also sparking Trembling Sally's obsession with destroying Abyssinia; and then Abby is raped by Brother Jacobs. If Abby's childhood starts out as a sort of Every Childhood, the encroachment of violence and misery can be seen as a metaphor for the constant threat of these forces on black lives. For black children, a happy childhood isn't guaranteed (we see this also with Lily Norene, so be sure to check out her page elsewhere in this section).

Let's take these attacks piece by piece, though, shall we?

When the tornado comes, it arrives just as Abby's about to receive "the Library Award for the most books read" (7.2) in her grade, turning what's supposed to be a proud moment of victory and celebration into one that brings a heap of heartache into Abby's life:

Three hours later, they emerged from the dark cellar into the open air. The entire student body stood gaping in awe.

A giant broom had swept a clean path through the world. There was virgin earth where houses, cars, and cattle had once been. Some structures had been leveled to the bare foundation. (7.28-29)

Powerless to stop it, the tornado rips through town, destroying life as the residents of Ponca City have known it. Strong's business is destroyed—and with it, the main income supporting Abby's family—and he completely falls apart, losing his mind and leaving Patience and Abby behind without explanation. In other words, on nature's whim, Abby loses both familial and financial stability in one fell swoop.

And then there's Trembling Sally:

Mother Barker examined Miss Sally carefully. She said a blackjack leaf went through Miss Sally when the big wind peeled the planks, one by one, off Miss Sally's old frame house and tossed them to the storm like brown sticks. She said the tornado took the handle off the iron tub and left the cow eyeless and gave Miss Sally the trembles.

"Not a thing more I can do," she said, shaking her head. (7.45-46)

As with Strong, the tornado destroys Trembling Sally's mental stability. Unlike with Strong, though, Sally doesn't skip town—instead, she zeroes in on Abby, obsessed with killing the girl who found her after the storm:

When she looked up, she saw Trembling Sally step up to the edge of the water, close enough to touch her.

Abby wanted to flee, but the water impeded her movement. She was not swift enough. She splashed away from the riverbank, but had only gone a few feet when Trembling Sally was upon her.

"I knew I'd get you! I knew it!"

The woman was a warped log thick in the waves. Her powerful arms seemed to blot out the sun and were unhampered by her bulky apparel. The deranged woman's layers of clothing floated on the water like the tormented petals from strange flower.

She grabbed Abby by the shoulders and held her under the vise of her grip.

Silently Abby prayed, God who made music, hear me.

Abby could smell the foul, stinking breath of the older woman. She felt the mighty hands push her under. (18.10-16)

This is one of several incidents in which Trembling Sally manages to get Abby alone and make a solid attempt at ending her life. Like the racism being fought against in the Civil Rights Movement, Trembling Sally presents a constant and lurking threat. Abby never knows when Sally will rear her ugly head, doing all she can to bring about the girl's demise.

No Brother of Mine

Perhaps the most devastating thing that happens to Abby, however, is when Brother Jacobs rapes her. Again thinking of Abby as a sort of Every Child, this brutal sexual assault can be seen as symbolic of sexual violence's incredible ability to destroy childhood:

Soon she heard thunder, but there was no storm. She saw a pansy wither, but there was only hay surrounding her. She heard the raw cry of birds and felt the sky rain down mud.

Suddenly the sun went out and called lightning bugs forth. On their wings flew death, fluorescent and green. Death touched her body, changed his mind, and flew away. (9.28-29)

Did you notice that death is gendered as male in this passage? We're told "Death […] changed his mind," so while we can see the tornado as representing the constant and arbitrarily destructive threat of racism, here we are shown sexism as a beacon of death.

After she's raped by Brother Jacobs, Abby goes completely silent. She doesn't leave her bed for quite some time, and literally doesn't make a sound for months. In an interesting twist, it's Trembling Sally who ultimately "helps" Abby reconnect with her voice (we put "helps" in scare quotes because, well, she does it by filling Abby's bedroom with a swarm of wasps—but still, Abby begins to speak again). For more on Trembling Sally's terrible antics, though, check out her page elsewhere in this section.

One Tough Cookie

Clearly, there are more than a few bumps in Abby's road—and yet she doesn't give up. She remains focused on school, applying herself to her studies and graduating with honors (23.13), and then learns all she can about healing from Mother Barker, ultimately becoming to go-to healer for the community of Ponca City.

This isn't to say that Abby always rises right away when she's knocked down—she stumbles and struggles, for sure, literally losing her voice (more on this in the "Symbols" section) and majorly grappling with God. It's just that instead of losing track of her self-esteem as the world repeatedly beats her down, Abby repeatedly reconnects with—and clings tightly to—her self-worth, investing in her life and future while people like Lily Norene fall off track (23.6).

In the end, Abyssinia successfully survives a final attack from Trembling Sally (this one kills Sally), managing to save Lily Norene's daughters, too. As she sits surrounded by women from the community, Abby senses the ongoing power of women, feels their connection across generations and their resilience. She addresses the group, saying:

"You women of women, you women of mercy, balancing crystals of water on your wings, rise from deep ashes, rise from old ashes, rise etched and marked from scarifications, rise and fly." (30.31)

At this point in her life, Abby feels the full power she holds: The world has tried to take so much from her, and yet here she is, the community healer and a survivor many times over. Nothing can hold Abyssinia back—and with this understanding, her transformation from ordinary child to extraordinary young woman is complete.