56 pages • 1 hour read
Laura Amy SchlitzA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
In Chapter 19, when Grisini tells Cassandra to send for his wards to steal the phoenix-stone, he muses on the potential strength of children: “if one wants power, there is far more power in children” (133). Splendors and Glooms, which centers on the arcs of three children, explores youth as a representation of the human capacity to change and grow. The children, in contrast to the adults, uncover their individual strengths, learn how to counter their weaknesses, and discover how to support one another by tackling the challenge of personal growth.
One common aspect of youth is innocence, or purity of heart, which is embodied in the character of Lizzie Rose; however, part of making that aspect a strength lies in acknowledging The Shades of Gray Between Good and Evil. Lizzie Rose always sees the best in others, even those who have harmed her, and she strives to protect people she perceives as weaker than herself. Often, throughout the novel, those qualities yield good outcomes. Despite Parsefall resisting her kindness and lashing out at times, Lizzie Rose’s persistence allows them to build a strong relationship. Lizzie Rose’s kindness also moves Cassandra at key moments, if not transforming the woman, at least unlocking memories and teasing out what little goodness still remains in her. However, simultaneously, Lizzie Rose’s persistent gentleness can translate into weakness, and her wish to believe in fairytales can lead her astray. She can fail to set boundaries, meet her own needs, and anticipate traps or danger. She goes hungry at times, knowing Parsefall hardly deserves shared food when he didn’t share, but sharing with him all the same. She absorbs jabs and insults. Most notably, on finding Cassandra’s letter, Lizzie Rose leaps to the conclusion that a happy ending is easily within reach: “She felt as if she were in a play […] Some offstage person would die, clearing the pathway for a happy ending” (163). Lizzie Rose’s strength lies in learning to identify those who are truly worth saving. At the end of the book, Lizzie Rose’s nature allows her to devise a plan to save Clara. Lizzie Rose doesn’t blame Clara for destroying the phoenix-stone, and she recognizes that Clara needs help.
Another common aspect of youth is the intensity and turbulence of emotions, an aspect captured in the character of Parsefall; in this case, Parsefall’s growth involves finding the courage to face the truth, which is key to harnessing his emotions instead of falling prey to them. Unlike Lizzie Rose, Parsefall is ruled by strong emotions, primarily anger and fear. He is still grieving the death of his sister, the only person he felt truly loved him, and he fears what Grisini will do if he doesn’t comply with the man’s wishes. In the book’s early chapters, these emotions are a weakness. They often paralyze Parsefall, keeping him from acting or trusting others. When he finds Clara’s puppet, though, Parsefall starts to change. His anger and fear still get the better of him, but having someone to protect prompts him to start examining those emotions. That Parsefall spends much of the story unable to remember what Grisini did to him reflects how unchecked and unbalanced emotions often go hand in hand with obscured personal truths. So long as Parsefall lives in fear of learning the truth, he is vulnerable: he hides from Grisini, avoiding what needs to be done, and he falls for Cassandra’s temptations because he hopes the phoenix-stone will help him escape the emotional work of facing his past. Once Cassandra unlocks Parsefall’s memories, though, Parsefall is able to channel his emotions into action and help save Clara.
Youth is also associated with quiet obedience and deference to adults, which are characteristics that Clara initially embodies; part of her character arc, though, involves learning to stand up to adults and prioritize her own emotional needs. At the opening of the novel, Clara lives with her self-imposed guilt for the deaths of her siblings. Her belief that she somehow killed them by not eating her own watercress is representative of her survivor’s guilt, a sense that she did not deserve to live while they died; this guilt is reinforced by her parents, who have insisted on prioritizing their own grief over Clara’s feelings. Ironically, once Clara becomes a puppet, Clara feels freed from her home and the stifling atmosphere that contributes to her guilt. Away from a world of grief, Clara starts to focus on her own happiness, which is key to building strength for the battle against Cassandra in the latter half of the book. The spell on Clara allows Cassandra to communicate with her using magic. The first time this happens, Clara’s will is smothered by Cassandra’s. However, this defeat, combined with the danger Parsefall is in from both Cassandra and Grisini, gives Clara the motivation to find her inner strength. Following her first meeting with Cassandra, Clara builds up her reserves of mental strength and manages to reject Cassandra’s demands the next time. At the end of the book, the truth Clara finds in herself even lets her break Grisini’s spell and become human again. Like Lizzie Rose, Clara knows the phoenix-stone can’t give her what she wants, because Clara also wants things power cannot promise—namely love and her family. As a result, Clara uses conviction in her truth to destroy the stone and save everyone from both its power and Grisini.
As the children learn who they are, their individual strengths give them power against the forces that work against them, showing how the growth we experience in youth makes us strong. The children Lizzie Rose, Parsefall, and Clara, as compared to the adults Grisini and Cassandra, demonstrate how a willingness to face fears and admit failings is key to overcoming personal darkness and growing into a stronger version of ourselves.
Good and evil are not a binary, and part of coming of age is recognizing that humans do not align with fairytale tropes. Rather, people are complex, capable of kindness and cruelty at once. The characters of Splendors and Glooms show how even the seemingly best or worst people have shades of gray. Key to this theme, though, is the importance of choice. Goodness is a choice as much as evil. Moreover, evil actions are not erased by good ones: evil actions, regardless of goodness, have consequences.
Even Lizzie Rose, who most embodies traditional images of goodness in the novel, has flaws that indicate her complexity as a character. Her goodness sometimes leaving her vulnerable, prompting her to care for others at the expense of herself. More significantly, though, Lizzie Rose is not immune to temptation. She is lured to Cassandra’s home by the promise not only of escape but also of fineries. Lizzie Rose struggles with this, fearing that she is therefore not living up to her fixed idea of what goodness should look like. The issue with her perception is that it does not incorporate shades of gray. Part of Lizzie Rose’s development involves complicating her perception of good and evil, which allows her to stop pushing away essential parts of herself.
The character of Cassandra, in contrast to Lizzie Rose, helps capture the shades of grey present in those who choose to commit evil deeds. Years before the book’s opening, Cassandra stole the phoenix-stone from her friend; she did so, though, in the hope that the stone would give her the ability to bring back her father and, with him, the love she craved from him. When this failed, Cassandra failed to self-reflect or change, choosing instead to continue harming others in a hopeless effort to find emotional fulfilment. Cassandra’s emotional profile is not so different from that of the children in the novel: she was frightened and lonely, desperate for love and family. What makes Cassandra evil is not her nature or situation, but how she chooses to deal with her challenges. Cassandra actively pushes away impulses that suggest her capacity for good, chastising herself when she feels a momentary fondness for Parsefall. Cassandra’s moment of redemption comes at the end of the book, when Cassandra remarks that Clara is foolish for feeling so guilty about her siblings’ deaths: “You stupid, stupid girl! Don’t you know that killing is a decision? […] You killed no one” (376-77). Cassandra’s very last living act is to liberate Clara from the secret blame she carries. In doing so, Cassandra also acknowledges her own autonomy in her evil acts.
Splendors and Glooms strives to show the power that each individual has to shape their lives, especially when it comes to deciding how to treat those weaker than oneself. When it comes to good and evil, there is a choice to be made, and that choice is one we must make constantly, over and over again: to protect others or to abuse them in an effort to advance ourselves. Most of the characters in the novel are pursuing love. However, the adults suffer from misunderstandings about how to obtain it: Love is not something that can be stolen or demanded. Rather, it is best elicited by appreciating the duality present in every human being and encouraging kindness through example.
Grief affects many of the characters in Splendors and Glooms, often entangled with guilt. Both Lizzie Rose and Parsefall lost family before the beginning of the novel—Lizzie Rose her parents and Parsefall his sister. Clara lost four siblings, who her parents grieve profoundly. Cassandra mourns her failed attempts at finding love, with her friend, her father, and Grisini. In exploring the persistence and power of grief, the novel also examines how characters can learn to manage it, if not overcome it entirely.
The characters most mired in grief in the novel are the ones who choose to neglect their living loved ones, often using their private suffering to manufacture a sense of isolation. Parsefall, while focused on mourning his sister’s death, is prickly and suspicious toward Lizzie Rose’s kindness. Clara’s mother, while still focused on mourning her dead children, locks herself away; in Chapter 40, when Clara’s parents argue about Clara and her dead siblings, Mrs. Wintermute admits that she allowed her grief to stymy her love for her living daughter: “I didn’t love her the way I did the others. How could I, when I knew she might be taken away?” (287). Clara’s father, in turn, distances himself from the family. Cassandra obtained the phoenix-stone by stealing it from her friend, poisoning the friendship, and by the time the children reach her, she has largely cut herself off from the world by way of her wealth. In all cases, the characters’ indulgence in their grief fosters a barrier between themselves and the people around them.
The characters’ process of working through their grief occurs in tandem with the reemergence of human connection in their lives. Parsefall’s bond with Lizzie Rose and, later, with Clara serves as his pathway out of the anger and fear that his grief inspired. Realizing that Lizzie Rose loves him like a brother is what helps Parsefall understand he doesn’t have to live in the past to feel loved; realizing that he needs to help protect Clara helps understand that he capable of giving love too. Clara’s father, in searching for his daughter, rediscovers his love for her; his journey, in turn, sparks a reconnection with his wife. Only once Clara’s parents are emotionally reunited with each other are they able to find their daughter.
Within the context of grief and love, the novel is interested in death and rebirth on a metaphorical level as well as a literal one, as hinted at by the presence of the phoenix-stone. Death and loss are part of life. Part of healthy grieving is acceptance of loss. As the novel progresses, Lizzie Rose and Parsefall come to accept that all-consuming grief has no purpose; it will not bring their loved ones back. The children’s new understanding helps them usher in new love: they bring about their own rebirth, essentially, building a new family to love and be loved by. Clara’s parents go on a similar journey. Cassandra, however, serves as an example of what staunch refusal to reconnect with humanity can yield. Even once freed of the phoenix-stone, Cassandra finds herself unable to let go: “it was all I had. And yet it gave me no happiness, none at all” (338). Her reaction reflects the effect grief has on a person who rejects love. The grief brings them no happiness. The effect is ironic: The harder Cassandra clung to the phoenix-stone, the more she suffered, just as her increasing indulgence of her grief at lost and unrequired love undermined her desperate attempts to find love.
By Laura Amy Schlitz