Becoming Bethia
“Who are we, really? … Do we make ourselves, by the choices we ourselves make? Or are we clay merely, that is molded and pushed into the shape that our betters propose for us?”[1] Bethia Mayfield is a girl torn between two senses of loyalty—one to herself, and the other to her faith. Her opportunity to finally reconcile the two comes after the untimely death of her father, in the unexpected form of a change in place. Though seeming a curse at first, Bethia’s removal to Cambridge ultimately proves to be her liberation.
Bethia’s status as an indentured servant is a small sacrifice for the freedom she gains from the hierarchy of the “little commonwealth.” In the absence of a traditional family structure, Bethia becomes her own master, a woman who responds to the discriminatory remarks of the son of the late governor by pointedly quoting scripture. Bethia’s confrontation with Dudley, however, is more than just proof of her increasingly brazen character. The encounter makes Bethia more aware of class differences, while Anne’s disturbing past reveals to our young heroine the ubiquity of corruption. In short, Bethia loses in Cambridge the childhood naïveté that the isolation of Great Harbor once allowed her to maintain. But in confronting an ugly reality, Bethia also gains insights that work in her favor. The powers given to a Puritan woman might be few and far between, but by manipulating them, Bethia is able to determine her own definition of happiness. For her, the choice she faces between Noah Merry and Samuel Corlett is less a choice between two men than a choice between two paths: a simple life surrounded by the glory of nature, or an uncertain future with a certain promise of intellectual fulfillment.
In Cambridge, Bethia gains opportunities she never could have dreamed of on the island. As a scullery maid for Harvard College, Bethia’s hands are constantly occupied with menial tasks, but her mind is left to roam freer than ever. The learning that she enjoys through a buttery hatch is the best education available to anyone, male or female, in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. And while the Whitbys may frown upon Bethia’s journal writing, there is no longer a minister father to discourage her overreaching ambition, nor an officious brother to keep on her a jealous and suspecting eye. Listening in on sophomore and sophister lectures to which even Joel and Caleb are not at first privy, Bethia fully indulges herself in the intellectual curiosity that has been her defining ‘vice’ since childhood.
Cambridge molds young Bethia into a woman of purpose. “[Discerning] God’s hand”[2] in the unfortunate deaths of her family members, Bethia resigns herself to fate as she has never done before. At Corlett’s academy, she selflessly supports her brother on his scholarly path, a path closed off to her by virtue of her gender. And it is in Cambridge that Bethia finally finds ways to use her mind “for the glory of God… and not merely her own,”[3] serving as a companion to the lonely Elijah Corlett and as a tutor and friend to the withdrawn Anne. These responsibilities, along with the task of feeding and clothing school-age boys off a meager endowment, are those of an adult rather than a sixteen-year-old girl, but Bethia bears the burden with a grace beyond her years. From Great Harbor to Cambridge, Bethia had unwittingly made another kind of crossing: that inevitable one from childhood into womanhood.
As a child and a dependent, Bethia’s identity was largely determined by the male figures in her life. That she should be a “colonist and an islander… literate but not learned”[4] was all a result of choices that were made before she was even born. But in Cambridge, our protagonist is asked to answer the following question for the very first time in her life: What is it that she, Bethia, wants?[5]
[1] Brooks, Geraldine. Caleb's Crossing. New York: Penguin, 2011. Print. Book VII, pg. 57
[2] Chapter X, pg. 142
[3] Chapter III, pg. 19
[4] Chapter VIII, pg. 57
[5] Chapter XV, pg.197
“Who are we, really? … Do we make ourselves, by the choices we ourselves make? Or are we clay merely, that is molded and pushed into the shape that our betters propose for us?”[1] Bethia Mayfield is a girl torn between two senses of loyalty—one to herself, and the other to her faith. Her opportunity to finally reconcile the two comes after the untimely death of her father, in the unexpected form of a change in place. Though seeming a curse at first, Bethia’s removal to Cambridge ultimately proves to be her liberation.
Bethia’s status as an indentured servant is a small sacrifice for the freedom she gains from the hierarchy of the “little commonwealth.” In the absence of a traditional family structure, Bethia becomes her own master, a woman who responds to the discriminatory remarks of the son of the late governor by pointedly quoting scripture. Bethia’s confrontation with Dudley, however, is more than just proof of her increasingly brazen character. The encounter makes Bethia more aware of class differences, while Anne’s disturbing past reveals to our young heroine the ubiquity of corruption. In short, Bethia loses in Cambridge the childhood naïveté that the isolation of Great Harbor once allowed her to maintain. But in confronting an ugly reality, Bethia also gains insights that work in her favor. The powers given to a Puritan woman might be few and far between, but by manipulating them, Bethia is able to determine her own definition of happiness. For her, the choice she faces between Noah Merry and Samuel Corlett is less a choice between two men than a choice between two paths: a simple life surrounded by the glory of nature, or an uncertain future with a certain promise of intellectual fulfillment.
In Cambridge, Bethia gains opportunities she never could have dreamed of on the island. As a scullery maid for Harvard College, Bethia’s hands are constantly occupied with menial tasks, but her mind is left to roam freer than ever. The learning that she enjoys through a buttery hatch is the best education available to anyone, male or female, in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. And while the Whitbys may frown upon Bethia’s journal writing, there is no longer a minister father to discourage her overreaching ambition, nor an officious brother to keep on her a jealous and suspecting eye. Listening in on sophomore and sophister lectures to which even Joel and Caleb are not at first privy, Bethia fully indulges herself in the intellectual curiosity that has been her defining ‘vice’ since childhood.
Cambridge molds young Bethia into a woman of purpose. “[Discerning] God’s hand”[2] in the unfortunate deaths of her family members, Bethia resigns herself to fate as she has never done before. At Corlett’s academy, she selflessly supports her brother on his scholarly path, a path closed off to her by virtue of her gender. And it is in Cambridge that Bethia finally finds ways to use her mind “for the glory of God… and not merely her own,”[3] serving as a companion to the lonely Elijah Corlett and as a tutor and friend to the withdrawn Anne. These responsibilities, along with the task of feeding and clothing school-age boys off a meager endowment, are those of an adult rather than a sixteen-year-old girl, but Bethia bears the burden with a grace beyond her years. From Great Harbor to Cambridge, Bethia had unwittingly made another kind of crossing: that inevitable one from childhood into womanhood.
As a child and a dependent, Bethia’s identity was largely determined by the male figures in her life. That she should be a “colonist and an islander… literate but not learned”[4] was all a result of choices that were made before she was even born. But in Cambridge, our protagonist is asked to answer the following question for the very first time in her life: What is it that she, Bethia, wants?[5]
[1] Brooks, Geraldine. Caleb's Crossing. New York: Penguin, 2011. Print. Book VII, pg. 57
[2] Chapter X, pg. 142
[3] Chapter III, pg. 19
[4] Chapter VIII, pg. 57
[5] Chapter XV, pg.197