Realism and Sentimentality in Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

Introduction: A Sentimental War-Time Novel

Betty Smith's 1943 novel A Tree Grows in Brooklyn can be read as a war-time novel situated in a landscape of nostalgia and longing. In this sense, it is often viewed as a sentimental work that appeals more strongly to the emotions and the heart than it does to the head or to the intellect — in a way that a more grotesque work, such as something by Flannery O'Connor of the same era, might do. Smith's novel, though realistic in many ways, is not a novel of realism or a novel of the bildungsroman genre. It is, rather, a sentimental ode to a way of life and the tenacious ways by which those who persevere can claim some sort of satisfaction at the end of a life well-traveled. The book contains moments of humor, sadness, melancholy, and heartache — but overall it sounds its theme in the Tree of Heaven that Francie Nolan uses to symbolize the Nolan spirit, and how the family as a whole keeps coming back to life in spite of all adversities, even after being seemingly knocked down and left for ruin.

This paper will show how the Tree of Heaven symbolizes not only the perseverance of the individual Nolans but also the sentimentality of 1940s urban America — a time and place caught up in the romanticism of the Good War, yet at the same time feeling the sting of deprivation, and looking toward the hope of reward in success, love, education, and all-around fulfillment — such as only Heaven could afford.

The Double Nature of Characters and Narrative

As Kathleen Therrien notes, Smith "tightly interlaces sentimental, brutal, humorous, and emotionally wrenching scenes in a complex, richly textured narrative," in which the characters' lives trace various tales of poverty "without allowing any of them to emerge as the final, definitive or 'official' story" (93). Therrien's point is that the characters are and are not defined by their lives, the choices they make, and the consequences of their actions. There is a lyrical strain within the work that acts as a kind of merciful balm, so that one is at once guilty and forgiven. For example, Francie's father Johnny Nolan is a loving first-generation American who has talent, creativity, and ability — he is a singing waiter — but he suffers from an incurable depression and a tendency to drink that manifests itself whenever Katie becomes pregnant again. In other words, a time that should be happy (the celebration of new life) is, on the contrary, a sad time for him, and his inability to embrace it causes him to ultimately lose his own life through alcoholism.

Yet the spirit of Johnny and his good qualities live on in Neeley, Francie's brother, who demonstrates a talent for jazz. Francie's own ability to contextualize her brother in this manner signifies that she remains fond of her father, for whom she had a natural affinity. Thus, a character who in other circumstances might have been written off as a failure and a source of painful memories becomes, in Smith's complex narrative, a source of both sorrow and joy — which in itself underlines the basic theme of the novel: the double nature of things. The Tree of Heaven, for instance, is considered both a menace that will not go away and a symbol of the indomitable, unvanquished spirit of the Nolans.

Thus, Neeley — who is Katie's favorite, receiving special attention from her (she insists he should go to school rather than Francie, because he needs the structure whereas Francie can learn on her own) — is sentimentalized by Smith toward the end of the novel, representing the spirit of the dead father Johnny in the endurance of jazz: the unconstrained, uncontrollable, indomitable music of the time. Indeed, the first "talkie" ever shown in cinemas had "Jazz" in the title, giving this characteristic of Neeley even greater potency in popular American culture. Even at the end of the novel, the family cannot forget Johnny and performs small acts in his remembrance, layering the narrative in a sweet, sentimental gloss that strikingly contrasts with its realistic moments and highlights the double nature of the narrative. The union label in clothing is one way they remember him: "The Nolans sought for the union label on everything they bought. It was their memorial to Johnny" (824). It is an appeal to the reader's emotions, drawing one into the sentimental strain that Smith imposes on the novel from its opening words: "Late in the afternoon the sun slanted down into the mossy yard belonging to Francie Nolan's house, and warmed the worn wooden fence" (3). The sheer alliteration of "warmed the worn wooden fence" makes one feel the sentiment that Smith layers onto her memory of Brooklyn.

The Tree of Heaven as Central Symbol

Just like the Tree of Heaven, which Smith describes as something that "no matter where its seed fell, it made a tree which struggled to reach the sky" (6), Francie, Neeley, and Katie — and even Johnny in his own way — act like the tree: reaching out and upward toward the better life that lies just out of reach, yet never giving up. Even in death, Johnny's soul seems to have merged with Neeley's, emerging in the music. Thus, the sentimentality expressed in the novel's opening, and very much in its ending, is embodied within the symbol of the tree, as well as in the symbol of Francie's younger self represented by Florrie at the close. The tree that everyone loathes yet which still carries some special significance is ultimately identified by Francie as being like the Nolans themselves.

Conclusion: The Union of Sentimental and Real

Joachim Wohlwill observes that Smith's novel "does more than remind us of the obvious fact that children growing up in a congested urban environment will have only limited experience in climbing trees" (304). It reminds us of the double nature within our very selves — of the nature that yearns for childhood, and of the child that yearns for escape from the world of powerlessness. Through the novel, Smith provides ways in which the characters evince this doubleness: Neeley with his embodiment of Johnny in musical talent, while at the same time being a more responsible man; Katie as she provides both maternal and paternal care for the family; and Francie as she provides the heart — both the way out and the way in.

Then, of course, there is the Tree of Heaven, which symbolizes the Nolans as a whole — not entirely of this world, yet never absent from it either; oppressed in so many ways by their poverty, yet never giving up and redoubling their efforts to stay together. Just like the "union label" that reminds them of their father, it suggests that they should remain united. They are a union made of parts, and Smith uses both the reality and the sentimental strain of this notion to drive the novel to its hopeful conclusion. The tree — tenacious, unwanted, yet reaching ever skyward — remains the most fitting symbol for a Betty Smith family that refuses, in the end, to be anything other than alive.

Works Cited

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Gelfant, Blanche. "Sister to Faust: The City's 'Hungry Woman' as Heroine." NOVEL: A Forum on Fiction, vol. 15, no. 1 (Autumn 1981): 23–38.

Smith, Betty. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. NY: Harper and Brothers, 1943.

Therrien, Kathleen. "'Why do They Have To … To … Say Things …': Poverty, Class and Gender in Betty Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn." Discourses of Women and Class, vol. 16, no. 1 (1999): 93–105.

Wohlwill, Joachim. "The Emerging Discipline of Environmental Psychology." American Psychologist, vol. 25, no. 4 (Apr. 1970): 303–312.