One of the main ideas the reader can glean from Sarah Jewett's "A White Heron" is that innocence and loyalty are virtuous qualities. Sylvia, the young protagonist, is confronted
with a choice between the life of white heron that she has often admired, and
the chance to please and potentially love a young ornithologist who aims to
kill it. When she refuses to disclose the location of the bird’s nest, she is
symbolically choosing to prolong the innocence of her youth rather than making
the transition into adulthood by putting her faith and loyalty in the young man.
The
narrator paints the huntsman in a positive light, saying he “proved to be most
kind and sympathetic” (117), and even “charming and delightful” (118). At
first, it may seem like a mistake for Sylvia to hide the secret of the heron’s
nest from this handsome stranger. Had she told him, she may have won his trust
and his heart. Upon closer analysis however, it becomes very obvious that he
wasn’t romantically interested in Sylvia at all, and was simply using her as a
resource. While Sylvia’s grandmother speaks of unfortunate family
circumstances, the stranger doesn’t listen. Instead, he is preoccupied with the
newly revealed fact that Sylvia might lead him to the white heron that he
seeks. Once he realizes that she may hold the key, he attempts to persuade its
location out of her. This justifies her decision and validates the point of the
story, by alluding to the fact that the other path she may have taken- by
telling him where the nest was- would have been destructive and filled with
unhappiness.
By the end
of the short story, Sylvia seems to have made a just, gratifying choice, but
she was not left completely unchanged. The whiteness of the heron is a symbol
of her innocence. She saved the life of this bird, but didn’t protest as the
ornithologist shot down many other songbirds the day before. She seems to feel
as though she owes the bird loyalty and protection, although it’s too late for
the others. In her indecision she went to great lengths to discover the heron’s nest by
climbing to the top of a very tall tree with every intention of telling the
young man of its whereabouts. From this height, she sees the sea for the first
time, and it appears to be a revelation of sorts. The world is in itself is a
vast and beautiful place, and Sylvia can’t let the young man slay the heron
like he did so many other exotic birds- her love for nature outweighs her love
for him. Although she may have held fast to the innocent principles of her
childhood, Sylvia was still matured by her encounter with the birdwatcher and
the realization that man can so easily kill the things he so loves.
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