ferris boyd, and remaining altruistic in the face of adversity
or: in which i overanalyze a children's book and write an essay about it.
(cws for discussion of child abuse, and also spoilers for "true (..sort of)" if you've never read that. 2,700+ words long not counting the screenshotted paragraphs from the book, this is much longer than your average tumblr post, be warned)
"true (...sort of)" by katherine hannigan is my favorite book. this is no secret. my url is a word originally created for the book. i talk about it constantly, especially about wanting more people to talk about it with. i practically became one of the characters from it. this book means a lot to me, and if you're a friend of mine i will more than likely recommend it to you at least once, regardless of whether or not you like reading.
there are many reasons for this. it takes a concept that feels as if it's been done to death (troublemaker kid cleans up their act via the power of ✨friendship✨) and executes it in a way i've never quite seen before. it goes extreme lengths to have you sympathize with all of its prominent characters on at least some level, even the ones who do harm. it's a tale of solace through pain, and the way people can heal inner wounds simply by sticking it out with each other.
by far the highlight of the book, however, and the answer i've received every time i've asked my friends who their favorite character was, is ferris boyd, and the way she's written. we don't usually get her pov -- out of all 74 chapters of the book, a whopping one chapter (chapter 8) is dedicated to seeing things through her eyes -- but by the time the story's come to a close, we feel as if we've learned a lot about her, and most importantly we feel as if we've learned these things with our protagonists.
when we first meet ferris boyd, he is a boy in a beat-up car with a trailer hooked to the end of it, a boy sitting next to an older man with a sadness in his blue eyes so haunting it remains with the protagonist, delly, even after she's left the area. then we learn that this is not a boy -- actually, this is a girl, who for whatever reason does not speak, and cannot be touched or yelled at or else she'll spiral into a panic attack.
then we find out that the sadness we first saw in that impala permeates her entire being. in class, ferris often has her face down on her desk, either asleep or just too miserable to keep her head up. we at least know she's too miserable to do her schoolwork. delly describes her as a disaster, and it shows.
but when recess rolls around, we see a different side of her. we see a side of her that is still sad, but in a way free to do as she pleases. though, this personal idea of freedom conflicts with what you'd expect from a kid her age. with any other 11-year-old, you'd expect freedom to be running around with their hands in the air, squealing with delight with a huge grin on their face. but ferris boyd's freedom is as quiet as she is -- her idea of freedom is sitting against a tree and reading a book as squirrels scamper over her legs.
and from here, we get to know her more and more. she likes to play basketball, and she's really great at doing so. she takes care of a black cat named mowr, who stays by her side whenever possible. she has a rickety treehouse out in the woods where she likes to sit and read. she doesn't speak, but if she wants to get your attention she'll slap her thigh or clap her hands. and while she doesn't like to be touched, not all physical contact is frightening to her -- she can't handle having her arm grabbed, but being leaned against or having her hand held isn't so bad.
the most stand-out quality that we pick up on, however, is ferris boyd's altruism towards others. apart from rb, she evidently has one of the kindest hearts out of every character in the book. she's incredibly selfless, and based on the many examples we see throughout the book, she seems more willing to help others than herself.
the first instance of this altruism that we see is in the very first chapter that we come to know her, and the only pov chapter for her in the whole book. as ferris is unpacking her things, she hears a rustling in the bushes, and as most people would, goes to investigate. she finds a black cat there, who we soon come to know as mowr, and feeds it.
now, this is a significant display of kindness under any circumstance, but here it's particularly sweet of her to do for a few reasons. for one, black cats are one of the most disliked kinds of cats in the world due to the superstitious belief that they bring bad luck. but there's another reason why this is so kind of her, too, and one that i didn't pick up on until very recently.
i remember going in with the assumption that mowr was a stray when this scene came up, and i'm sure many other people did too. but here's the thing: if mowr really was a stray/feral cat, it wouldn't be acting like this in this scene. if it were a stray, it would've gotten out of there the moment it saw ferris boyd. it certainly wouldn't have meowed, seeing as cats typically only meow to get the attention of humans, and a stray typically wants the opposite. and sure, it perhaps would've taken the food, but it definitely wouldn't have let ferris pet it.
putting this fact and the fact that this cat was at a house that'd recently been moved out of, i can only really come to one conclusion: the text is trying to imply that mowr was owned by the previous residents of the old hennepin place, and was left behind when they moved away. and, considering how ferris boyd responded to mowr, appears she gleaned this as well. i don't really have to tell you why taking in a cat that was recently abandoned by its owners is such a caring thing for her to do.
as we get to know more about ferris, we get to know more about her kind-hearted nature as well. there are a few examples here and there, such as her giving delly, somebody who at this point she's only known as the loud, angry girl who fights people and misgenders them to their faces, a second chance, or when she persistently tries to teach rb how to shoot a basket, even when he tries to throw in the towel. but one of the most significant examples of her selflessness comes up in chapter 55, when she offers to play novello in a game of h-o-r-s-e in exchange for him leaving her friends alone.
now, at this point in time, ferris boyd is not in the best state. somebody she considered to be a good friend, brud, hasn't come to visit her in weeks, and for all she knows she drove him away by being the quiet, timid girl that she is. with this in mind, plus some things we'll discuss later, it's clear why she'd jump to protect them, and it's obviously a very noble thing for her to do. but there's another layer to this i want to discuss, and one that'll be elaborated on even further later.
right after that screenshot above, this line is written.
this is pretty clearly a one-off simile, but i still found the comparsion between ferris boyd and a lamb really interesting. when you think of a lamb, you often think of innocence and purity, something that, while not the subject of this part of the analysis, will come back up later on. but you also may think of a sacrifical lamb, a symbol of sacrifice and, well, altruism.
in this scene, ferris boyd is the sacrificial lamb. she is running the risk of being ridiculed in order to help the people she cares deeply for. and in the end, she is ridiculed. but not once does she think, "i'm going to be made fun of by everybody if this doesn't go well." rather, she thinks, "i don't want to lose you. if this doesn't go well, you're gone." and when it doesn't go well in the end, she isn't hurt the most by the vitriolic words that've been hurled her way. she's hurt the most by brud, who she gave her trust to, another sacrifice considering the harrowing conditions she lives in, and in return got a non-verbal "yes, i agree" when novello said she was an it.
this trend of ferris boyd being a sacrificial lamb culminates in perhaps her biggest moment in the novel, and the first and only time she uses her voice: in chapter 65, where she saves delly from being sent to an alternative placement school by crying out for her attention.
this is, if you know literally anything about ferris boyd, a HUGE moment of vulnerability for her. up until this one moment, she hadn't spoken a word, presumably out of fear of...something, happening. so for her to go out and shout something at the top of her lungs, after being completely silent for so long...it almost seems uncharacteristic of her. but this isn't just her shouting anything. this is her shouting for her friend's safety. this, like many other things, is a sacrifice, and perhaps her most devastating one yet, seeing as it seems to lead to severe misfortune afterwards.
ferris boyd is, by all means, a very selfless person, always putting others before herself in any situation. but what is it about this part of her that sticks out so much against everything else? what is it about this selflessness that is worth pointing out? what has this feverish rant of mine been building up to?
well, to put it bluntly: based on everything we know about ferris boyd's homelife, she has every reason not to be this altruistic. in fact, one could say she has every reason to be a selfish asshole instead.
while we're never shown explicitly what happens to ferris boyd at home, we do have a lot of things that are implied for us. the first thing that comes to mind are the huge purple welts delly sees on her back while playing in the lake at delaferbia, which, combined with her fear of being touched, paints a pretty clear picture of how she's treated at home. it's noted a few times that her father is often away from home and doesn't even bother to get somebody to supervise her while he's away. also, and this part of the book might actually be in my top favorite lines from it period, we have this:
i really love this part, because it implies SO MUCH. for one, the "mouth that wouldn't speak" line gives the implication that ferris boyd's mutism is, at least on some level, an involuntary defense mechanism, rather than being voluntary as many people read it as. but also, i want to call attention to that last line. "she saw brud hit himself. she flinched, like she felt it."
in this instance, brud is hitting himself in the mouth to punish himself for having a speech impediment. so isn't it interesting how ferris boyd, somebody known for not speaking, would resonate with somebody hitting themself after speaking at the wrong time? more importantly, isn't it interesting what this indicates about her father, who was so affected by ferris boyd so much as speaking to save one of her friends that he tried to move away? and isn't it interesting how, just at the beginning of this story, they'd just moved into town and nonchalantly unpacked their things as if they'd done this many times before? because, more likely than not, they had done this many times before?
the picture that's been painted of ferris boyd's father from just these facts alone is upsetting, to say the least. and, seeing as her mother is never seen in the text or even mentioned as an aside, it seems that the only possible nurturing figure in her life is either dead, has left her, or was never there to begin with.
ferris boyd has every reason to be a bad person. abuse is a cycle, after all, and if she were a bad person, i don't envision anybody blaming her for that. we all know of antagonist characters that used to be sweet when they were younger, until something awful happened to them and they grew into a vicious and brooding person. this trope is so well-known that it has its own page on tv tropes under the name "used to be a sweet kid."
ferris boyd could be a jerk. but she's not one. because while it'd certainly be much easier for her to throw compassion out of the window and go all-out with emotionally fortifying herself, using cruelty to drive others away and prevent herself from giving people the opportunity to hurt her, she's not one to do that. that requires a level of fearfulness she doesn't have, and while yes, ferris boyd is jittery and easily frightened, that doesn't mean she can't be brave. she's very brave, actually, and much stronger than most give her credit for, which is something that's commented on in the text.
if you, the reader, have been paying attention, you will remember that i mentioned lambs being a symbol of innocence. but just as they are a symbol of innocence, they can also be a symbol of the corruption of such a thing. lambs are prey animals, and being so small and unknowing, they're easy for predators to hunt down. but when the predator fails in taking their kill, the lamb survives with torn, bloodied wool, and wide eyes that will never again soften like they used to. and that's something that rings true for ferris boyd. her innocence has been tainted, and it's left her scared and hypervigilant, but she's still alive, and she came back stronger in the end.
oh, yeah. and now that we're on the part of the story in which ferris boyd runs away in an attempt to escape her father, i want to bring this part up.
this part ties pretty much everything together. not only is it another show of ferris boyd's selflessness, her worrying for the wellbeing of somebody who isn't there for her about 75% of the time (and when he is around, he's yelling at and beating her), but also, it just really hammers in my point that, while being rude to others would be taking the easy route, that's just not something ferris boyd has the capacity to do. if she still loves her horrible, abusive father, then why would she not love anyone else?
because while her innocence was corrupted, her gentle, tender heart was not. through everything, she did not forget how to be kind to others. she did not forget the warmth of being vulnerable for somebody else who won't take advantage of that, and though she may be apprehensive about leaving herself vulnerable, she values the love of others much more than she fears being hurt.
because ferris boyd is a sweet girl. she likes animals and basketball and reading, and she would do anything to help her friends, and she likes the funny words her best friend ever likes to make up, and when she blushes she blushes with her whole face and neck, and she falls asleep in the middle of the day sometimes, and she was scared of swimming at first but when she put down her defenses and tried it out it was so much fun that she wanted to do it again after it was over.
because while ferris boyd is afraid of a lot, she's not afraid to end the cycle her father laid out for her. she's not afraid to be kind. the rips in her fleece have not mended yet, but she's willing to help mend the wounds in others.
