47 pages • 1 hour read
John GrishamA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
To Mercer, turtles symbolize her childhood with Tessa, which she calls “the happiest days of my life” (95). Her grandmother was passionate about turtles and their habitat, and cared for them just as she nurtured and protected Mercer, whose childhood was difficult and unstable in many ways. Turtles were a fundamental part of that experience, shaping even the course of their days together. The time she spent with Tessa was shaped by the habits and rhythms of the turtles. She tells Elaine: “Tessa had me up with the sun, checking on the turtles, the new arrivals that made their nests during the night” (96). This has such an impact on Mercer that one of her most admired stories is based on the experience.
Mercer’s reconnection with the turtles is one step of Moving Through Grief, particularly the scene in which she comes upon a loggerhead turtle laying her eggs. From the time she finds the tracks to when she falls asleep in the dunes, Mercer reexperiences her childhood, allowing her to remember the almost magical nature of that time. Turtles also symbolize the slow progression of time and the way that grief is not something quickly experienced. Like hunting for the tracks of the turtles, grief leaves traces of its presence. But as Tessa passionately defends the rights of the turtles to exist without interference, Mercer learns the importance of allowing her grief to exist as it does, without trying to run away from it. Although she still feels the grief of her loss, over the course of the novel she is able to see past the pain: “She gazed at the lights of the shrimp boats on the horizon and smiled at the memories of Tessa and her turtles” (145). Mercer is able to face her loss, and one of the most important ways she reconnects with her memories of Tessa and her childhood is through the turtles.
Bruce’s seersucker suit is an important symbol that he uses to develop his persona. After Bruce establishes Bay Books on Camino Island, he curates himself as a local eccentric by adopting the uniform of a seersucker suit. Mercer notes “at least six different tints to his suits and she suspected there were more. Bow tie of bright yellow paisley. As always, dirty buckskins, no socks. Never” (229). The seersucker suit is a classic look, especially in the American South. In wearing it, Bruce evokes the charm and affability of a Southern gentleman, but also the trustworthiness and integrity of someone like Atticus Finch, who wore seersucker in the film adaptation of To Kill a Mockingbird (1960).
Bruce’s seersucker suits, and the persona that he develops around them, are what makes his criminal success possible. He is seen as an eccentric local intellectual, slightly larger-than-life but too laid-back to undertake something as complex and risky as the ransoming of the Fitzgerald manuscripts. In addition, the suit evokes charm and trustworthiness, and by being so recognizable, Bruce creates an impression of himself as a pillar of the community. These perceptions of his character are developed because of these affectations, and are what allow him to run a casual business in stolen books out of the basement of his store.
Patience is a motif that comes up in a variety of contexts. Two of the original thieves, Bruce, and Elaine all advocate for patience when it comes to strategy. When the thieves debate their timing, the less experienced criminals, Denny and Mark “favored the quick strike, which entailed making contact with Princeton within a week and demanding a ransom” (25). On the other hand, “Jerry and Trey, with more experience, favored a patient approach” (25). Bruce thinks similarly when he takes the books from his father’s collection: “Allow some time to pass, for memories to fade. As he would quickly learn in the business, patience was imperative” (55). This philosophy applies to the way Bruce undertakes moving the manuscripts as well—he shows extreme patience both in his dealings with Mercer and the execution of his plan to smuggle and ransom the manuscripts. Even though he knows from the beginning that Mercer is investigating him, he waits for the very morning the FBI will arrive with a warrant to execute his plan.
Elaine also understands that patience to crucial to successfully catch thieves. She sets Mercer up with six months to do her job, showing that she is not looking for immediate results, but like Bruce, is playing the long game. As she tells Mercer, “The clock is always ticking, yet we have to show great patience” (90). This motif also connects to the theme of The Perfect Plan, as only Bruce, who understands the value of patience, is able to execute his plan successfully.
But patience also underscores the themes of The Writing Life and Moving Through Grief. As readers are guided through Mercer’s mental and financial journey, they see that patience is necessary for both writing and processing grief. Clearly writing is not a career of quick decisions and fast-paced emergencies. Mercer’s writing has been effectively on hold for three years while she works as a teacher to simply support herself. And even when she is able to enjoy a writing life on the island, she participates in extended discussions with herself and others about what to write at all. Without patience, the labor of the writing life might be unbearable. Similarly, grief is depicted as a process for which there is no standard timing. Eleven years have passed since Mercer visited the island, specifically because she does not want to engage with her grief over her grandmother. And yet, visiting the island and activity engaging with her memories of her grandmother actually quicken the pace of her grieving that, like her writing career, had seemed to stagnate for a period of years. While the strategies and schemes devised by various characters suggest the need for patience toward a specific end, John Grisham also illustrates the need for patience when going through experiences that have no such specified outcome.
By John Grisham