61 pages • 2 hours read
Jodi PicoultA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Throughout the novel, the game of chess symbolizes agency or lack thereof. As a young girl, Emilia is saddened and disturbed to hear her guardians arguing over who will take her and the revelation that neither wants to be responsible for her. She imagines herself as “the little dark pawn on the chessboard, being moved around at the whims of whoever was playing the game” (24). Like the weakest piece in the game, the pawn, she is subject to the whims of others and can be sacrificed for their causes. She continues to think about this symbol when she goes to Denmark and sees a play performed. In this play, an early version of the legend that will become Hamlet, the queen has no voice and no name. Emilia thinks “of the unnamed woman in the play and wondered what became of her. If she, too, might be driven mad by being a pawn in someone else’s game” (40). She sees parallels between herself and the woman since they are both helpless and at the mercy of other people’s desires. Emilia’s character arc involves learning to take control of her life and, despite difficult circumstances, exert what power she can. She fights against being a pawn in the game.
In contrast, Melina lives in an era where women have much more agency and can direct their lives. She is introduced not as a pawn, but as “a grandmaster chess champion whose understanding of the game determined success” (4). The contrast between the two characters is highlighted using this symbol, where one character sees herself as the weakest piece on the board, and the other sees herself as controlling the board masterfully. Picoult uses this symbol to emphasize the differences in women’s lives and social statuses in these eras.
Falcons appear several times in By Any Other Name and represent women’s status in Elizabethan society and their pursuit of agency and freedom. When Emilia comes to live with Hunsdon as his mistress, his hunting falcons enchant her. The falconer tells her, “Falcons be ladies” (82), meaning that the ones kept are always female. He explains the mechanics of keeping them to hunt, and Emilia is struck by the contrast between the birds’ available freedom and the way they are kept hooded and in the dark. Falconers also keep the birds hungry so that they will be willing to hunt. John tells her that defective birds are killed: “Well, no use keepin’ a girl that can’t serve her purpose, is there?” (83). His repeated use of “girl” and “ladies” to refer to the birds underscores the parallels between their captivity and Elizabethan women’s limited freedoms. Emilia writes a poem musing on the falcon’s captivity, an excerpt from The Taming of the Shrew, when Petruchio brags about how he will tame his wife, Kate, by speaking about a falcon he owns: “Another way I have to man my haggard / To make her come and know her keeper’s call” (83). He also compares his tame falcon to wild kites “[t]hat bate and beat and will not be obedient” (83). As she writes the poem, Emilia thinks about the tragedy of the falcon that could fly free but has been in captivity so long that she returns to her keeper’s hand.
When Hunsdon takes her to Mary Sidney’s salon, she begins to envision herself as an author, and that night she dreams of the falcon going free and losing its jesses: “Emilia stared at the sky, watching the bird fly away, growing smaller and smaller until it scraped the face of the sun” (119). Writing becomes, for Emilia, a means of pursuing freedom. When Emilia begins to write plays and meet with Christopher Marlowe, their meeting place is fittingly called The Falcon Inn. This is also where she first barters with Shakespeare to have her work published. The title of the inn emphasizes the idea that Emilia is pursuing her freedom as best she can in her limited circumstances. Toward the novel’s end, one of the female pupils in her school asks Emilia why she bothers to educate them when they will all end up married off. Emilia tells her the story of a kite that was trapped in the palace and killed itself flying into the glass. The girl finds it a “terrible story,” but Emilia continues and explains that the windowpane shattered every time someone tried to fix it. She tells her student, “Escape may not be possible in my lifetime. Mayhap I am like that bird, beating against the window for naught. But you—or your daughter, or your daughter’s daughter—may be the one to fly through the hole” (443). Though Emilia sees herself as a falcon who has lost the taste for freedom, she hopes that her work will allow future women to have lives of their own, not ruled by men. To her, these birds of prey represent the current and future possibilities for women’s lives.
During their love affair, Southampton has an artist paint miniature portraits of himself and Emilia. These paintings are symbols of their relationship. Southampton also asks the artist to incorporate certain symbolic elements. He is not painted on “his signature field of blue but instead on a background of black […] His hand was inside his open shirt, covering his heart, as if he could keep it safe for her” (192). The back of the painting includes “a tiny image of the six of hearts—the soulmate card, the symbol in cartomancy of a love you were destined to have…and to lose” (192). The portraits are a microcosm of their love affair, documenting their affection as well as its’ doomed nature. In the author’s note, Picoult explains that the miniatures are real historical artifacts. The one of Emilia is known to be a portrait of her, while the other is classified as an unknown man. However, it bears a remarkable similarity to a later portrait of Southampton, even including the cartomancy symbol of a heart.
Emilia keeps the miniature with her, hidden, as she must keep her relationship hidden. After Alphonso’s death, she retrieves it from its hiding place and “lay facedown on the bare mattress, her hand clasped around the image of the man who’d held her heart, and she slept better than she had for years” (423). Instead of sleeping peacefully with her lover, she sleeps with the portrait—the only reunion possible for them. After Southampton’s death, his younger son returns the portrait to her. Emilia stores the miniatures together, thinking, “They were tangible proof that, once, she had been beloved […] She liked to think that Southampton, wherever he was now, was watching. That he knew, too, they were finally together” (468). They can never be together in life, due to societal rules, but the portraits represent their love and are a way for them to be together after death.
By Jodi Picoult