Allegedly

Mary refers to Herbert, the big black fly, as her house pet. As a motif he appears frequently, speaking to the conditions in which Mary lives. Mary admires Herbert’s persistence, believing they are both survivors; his tenacity is symbolic of her own. When Mary learns she will not be able to keep her baby, she simultaneously begs her mother for help and insinuates her mother is to blame for Alyssa’s death. Angry and without thought, Momma rolls up a magazine and squashes Herbert, calling him a “pesky little thing”—implying that she is also referring to Mary. Momma’s thoughtless killing of the fly reveals the cold interior Momma attempts to hide from the world, and it parallels the reflexive ease with which Mary perceives her mother has cast her off into the life-ending system. Herbert is dead. Momma leaves freely and “[a]ll [Mary] can do is watch, accepting the consequences that [she] let her go free. Again” (77). 

As both symbol and motif, squalor appears frequently, seen in such benign instances as mold around the base of Mrs. Richardson’s bathtub or as grotesquely as the bleach-soaked remains of Ms. Reba’s disembodied cat. Filth appears throughout and symbolizes the despair of those living in conditions over which they have no control. Filth also symbolizes chaos, wherein cleanliness, its opposite, points to order. When Mary wakes up in the hospital, she observes that her “room is bright white and spotless,” noting that “[h]ospitals clean better than Momma” (332). Mary says she feels safe there. If cleanliness elicits feelings of safety, then filth would engender those of danger or vulnerability. Squalor—a condition which those who know otherwise would want to escape—lacks hope. The filth, in all forms, accosts the girls’ senses, simultaneously reminding them of their station in life. There is nothing in Mary’s group home—from the meals they prepare and the stinky sponge they use to do dishes, to the brown water that comes out of their faucets—that is not objectionable to the senses. There is an absence of anything clean, new, or fresh smelling; only mold, dirt, dust, and belly-up water bugs. 

For the young women in the group home, squalor defines their chaotic, hopeless lives. Hopelessness, however, is not limited to the group home. The disarray in Mrs. Richardson’s house speaks to the intense, crippling pain of her loss. Mary sees “[a]n unmade bed with a single sheet dangling over the side, newspapers scattered on the floor, empty glasses and bottles of vodka on the side table. It doesn’t seem like one woman lives here but ten homeless women instead” (354). Mrs. Richardson’s disarray, just as the filth of the group home, indicates a sad resignation, one created by circumstances out of one’s control.