The Girls in the Stilt House

Mustian uses figurative language and imagery to characterize Frank Bowers and draw comparisons between him and Virgil Morgan. When he refers to Ada’s “disgrace” after paying her rent in Bristol, “It was like being doused with a bucket of water” (327). This simile emphasizes how callous he is and how quickly he can go from generous to insulting. Although Ada is basking in the happy glow of a new start with Annis, Frank’s insensitive assessment of her condition is shocking, like having a bucket of cold water dumped over her head.

Later, after he spots Matilda in Jackson, he confines Ada to his hotel room. As he confronts her, “Frank slid off the chair, slippery as a snake” (335). Snakes are connotatively associated with evil, stemming in part from the biblical story of Eden but also because snakes are so inscrutable and can hide in plain sight. This simile emphasizes Frank’s apparent maliciousness but also his deceptive nature and wiliness. When Ada admits that Matilda killed Virgil to save her life, “Frank’s face [had] a look that Ada knew. A Christmas morning look” (336). This recalls her earlier description of Virgil when he came home to find her returned and appeared delighted to have more opportunity to abuse and manipulate her. So it is with Frank now. He believes he can control Ada, helping him to get rid of Matilda, who could damage his reputation with what she knows. The prospect of getting his way—unjustly and at the expense of innocent girls—makes him downright giddy, like a child on Christmas morning. Just as Ada didn’t want to get rid of the pinecone that felt like a “tie” to anyone outside Virgil’s cabin, when she’s trapped in Frank’s hotel room, “Ada sat in a chair by the window where she could see the people on the street below and feel connected to the world outside that room” (345). This similarity highlights how abusive men use isolation and coercion to get what they want from the women their social privilege allows them to control. They may come from different classes, but Frank and Virgil are cut from the same cloth.

Ada’s response to Frank’s abuse, however, signals her dynamism as a character, and Matilda’s dynamism is extended in this section, too. Although she can feel herself dissociating and going to a safe space in her head, as she did with Virgil, Ada now “work[s] to bring herself right back, because she could not fight for Annis from that place. And she had to fight” (346). In contrast with an earlier metaphor that emphasized Ada’s lack of rebelliousness, this development is significant indeed. Then, when she takes Frank into the woods, leading him toward Virgil’s bear trap, she thinks, “For once in her life, […] she would do something herself rather than waiting to see what might be done to her” (349). The old Ada might have hoped for someone to come along and save her, like she did with Matilda, or waited to react to whatever choices Frank made, as she did with Virgil. Now, however, she has more agency and feels empowered enough to conceive a plan and execute it.

Likewise, Matilda’s dynamism is developed by her changed responses to Ada. After Ada kills Frank and eschews Matilda’s help, promising to protect Matilda’s identity from now on, Matilda thinks, “If she had said anything else, […] I could have sent her on her way with nothing more than goodbye and good luck” (356). She even praises Ada for handling herself so well and for being proactive instead of waiting for her life to take shape based on others’ choices. Praise is something she often withheld from Ada because she wanted Ada to be more self-sufficient. Now, Matilda can recognize Ada’s attempts to assume control of her life and commend them. She even acknowledges something akin to sadness when she and Ada eventually part ways.

Matilda and Ada’s experiences, choices, and feelings highlight The Resilience of Women and The Complexities of Friendship Across Social Divides. Each young woman kills a man and must come to terms with that act. Rather than devolve into the guilt their society might expect from them (with Frank’s behavior as an indication of white society’s views), they see the justice in Virgil and Frank’s deaths and move on from them emotionally. They start over in new cities, relying on their own skills to carve out lives that they will enjoy living rather than accepting the futures thrust upon them by a misogynist and racist community. In addition, Ada’s willingness to abandon her status as a victim and embrace the responsibility of caring for herself and her daughter, along with Matilda’s favorable response to this change, further reveals the complexity of their relationship. When Ada and Annis say goodbye to Matilda, “[Matilda] called [Annis] by her name […]. [Ada] took that as a sign that something between [her and Matilda] had healed” (363). Ada never wronged Matilda, but she allowed Matilda to care and provide for her in a manner that suggested it was her expectation. Their relationship dynamic inadvertently maintained the young women’s social statuses, with Ada embodying a rather helpless white womanhood (like Peggy) and Matilda waiting on her as a servant might. That this was unintentional on Ada’s part makes it no less confining and upsetting to Matilda. When Ada stops relying on Matilda, freeing Matilda—emotionally—to look after her own well-being, they experience a relationship more akin to true friendship than ever before.