Little Fires Everywhere—An Adult Adoptee’s Reflections: Giving Away Precious

Both the Hulu series and book by Celeste Ng, Little Fires Everywhere, have sparked a blaze in me as I devoured both from the perspective of an adult adoptee, mother, daughter, and writer. In celebration of both the book and the on-screen adaptation, over the next several days I’ll be sharing some of my reflections on various themes that stood out for me. There will definitely be spoilers in this review series, so if you haven’t yet watched and/or read, you may want to flag these for a different time, once you have.

 

Little Fires Everywhere and Giving Away Precious

Today I’m ruminating on what it means to give away that which is precious to us—factors that propelled key characters to make such sacrifices, and the benefits/rewards and ultimate cost of doing so. This time, I’m primarily concentrating on the mini-series, where certain plot points are portrayed differently than in the novel.

What leads us to sacrifice that which is precious to us?

I loved how Little Fires Everywhere had me considering this question in so many situations, such as:

  • Lexie giving away her virginity
  • Mia giving away a cherished piece of art
  • Mia giving away her body for another family’s baby
  • Bebe giving away her infant

First of all, I have to commend the series from a writing perspective, headed by showrunner and executive producer Liz Tigelaar, inspired and influenced, of course, by author Celeste Ng. What an artful setup of the characters’ pain. Their suffering feels all the more intense to us when we come alongside the characters’ emotions and know exactly what is precious to each of them … before it is given away and short-term rewards are overshadowed by complications that fester and burn into one of many little fires.

In all cases, desperation is the overwhelming driver. But what puts each character into that state of desperation, and the consequences that ensue, are unique for each character.

Lexie’s Virginity

Early on, we see it’s important to Lexie to hold off on having sex with Brian. She insists they wait until prom for their consummation, to model after Brenda and Dylan from Beverly Hills, 90210.

But before long Brian pulls away from Lexie, after learning that she’s stolen Pearl’s story of personal struggle to use in her own Yale application essay. Lexie moves into desperate mode. Sex, she impulsively decides, is the only way to keep Brian close, and so she gives away that virginity she’d been holding on to as precious.

The reward? Lexie is able to hold on to Brian for a little while longer. She also gains a sense of superiority, being first among her friends to lose her virginity and brag about every detail.

But the cost is long-term intimacy. Lexie knows her fix is temporary and grows insecure and manipulative. Ethical and racial tension builds, and she has to work harder to protect her fragile relationship. Lexie recognizes the futility in the couple’s shallow level of relating soon after becoming pregnant. They’re not close enough for Lexie to honestly confide the pregnancy to him, especially after Brian makes it clear he’s not up for becoming a parent. Neither sex nor a potential baby would keep her relationship intact, so the sacrifice had been futile.

Mia’s Artwork

In episode four, “The Spider Web,” Mia finds herself in a situation where she decides to sell a piece of artwork that is especially meaningful. Over the course of several episodes, we learn of two cherished pieces of art—one a photographic expression of Mia’s “terrifying” side, created under the guideance of her mentor and eventual love interest, the renowned artist Pauline Hawthorne—and another, a photograph of Mia taken by Pauline Hawthorne. When Elena offers to buy the first piece, Mia tells her it’s not for sale. When Anita reminds Mia which piece would make the kind of money she needs, Mia at first insists she can’t sell that one.

But desperation pushes Mia to compromise her stand. She’s projecting all kinds of pain onto her co-worker and friend, Bebe, wanting to help fight a battle for a child in a case against privilege that echoes her nightmares. Out of desperation she first offers to sell one piece of art to Elena, and when that fails, sends the Pauline Hawthorne art to Anita.

The cost, though, is that Mia’s very efforts to keep her daughter close end up pushing Pearl away when the Pauline Hawthorne photo leaks to the media. The privacy Mia’s worked so hard to build, ever on the run to stay hidden from her past, is now compromised. Pearl is rightfully angry with her mother, questioning Mia’s lies and their life of unnecessary hardship and transitions. These are substantial costs.

Mia’s Body

In episode six, we finally come to understand Mia’s past. Always a passionate artist, she’d been elated to move to New York to attend a prestigious art school for a degree in fine arts. Soon university offers more than a honing of Mia’s artistic talents, when her mentor takes an interest in Mia.

But after Mia’s financial assistance is rescinded, she becomes desperate fast. As a struggling student without support from her parents, Mia doesn’t have the means to come by $12,000 to stay in school. She takes her brother’s advice to heart, “There’s always a way,” saying yes to an offer of surrogacy so that she can hold on to both art school and Pauline. The same body Mia had been honoring through her art, and through following her sexual longings, gets sacrificed.

Mia gets to stay in school. Her relationship with Pauline progresses to a deeper level. The cost, though, is that Mia finds she cannot go through with the surrogacy arrangement. After her brother dies and she loses her parents due to their shame and ostracizing, Mia can’t handle additional loss. Fleeing from New York and changing her name, Mia ends up creating for herself a lifetime of running—instability for her daughter, while Mia is plagued with nightmares of Pearl’s father catching up to her.

Bebe’s Baby

When we are fully introduced to Bebe’s story, we are dropped into the scene that shows what she holds most precious—right in her arms. But Bebe is in her moment of ultimate desperation—an immigrant experiencing difficulties breastfeeding while alone and living in poverty, unable to afford electricity to heat her barren apartment or formula for her ceaselessly crying infant, May Ling. It’s easy to see, though, how much May Ling means to her, through Bebe’s desperation to keep her baby alive.

As Bebe’s desperation escalates into hopelessness, she makes a life-changing decision and gives precious May Ling away—leaving her at the fire station.

The reward comes for May Ling. She is treated for the hypothermia she’d suffered and placed in a new home. There, she’s nurtured by two loving parents who’d been desperate to finally have a child to care for and bestow with a plush and cozy life thanks to their means.

The cost, though, is that May Ling can’t rest until she knows where her baby is. She’s haunted and overcome emotionally at the sight of other young girls who would be her daughter’s age. She’s full of regret and desperately wants to reunite with her baby.

And while May Ling is too young for words, the additional cost is to her sense of self. No matter how plush and loving her new life with the McCullough family may be, her formative experiences of taking in the world are based on the ultimate separation: between mother and child.

As an adoptee, I know too well how deeply the trauma of this loss will affect May Ling (renamed Mirabelle) for the rest of her life, throughout all of her relationships. It will be harder for her in a family that has shown an inability to acknowledge the importance of her heritage and first mother. She will likely feel a divide between the two mothers, giving rise to fantasies and secrecy as she pines for her first mother.

Like many adoptees, Mirabelle may feel pressure to live up to her adoptive parents’ great expectations—unspoken, but inferred: that she fill the hole left by their tragic season of infertility. If the significance of Mirabelle’s adoption is unacknowledged and her preverbal grief left untreated, she’ll likely either embrace the role of people-pleaser at the expense of her true self, or she might show any number of signs of what could later be labeled rebellion—both are common destructive paths for adoptees in similar situations.

This is not to say the cost to Mirabelle is completely hopeless, but her parents are going to need to wake up soon! (And based on the ending, this is likely a moot point.)

So … are such sacrifices of the heart worth it?

As I look at the collective of these examples in Little Fires Everywhere, it’s easy for me to judge. Giving away that which is precious to our hearts ALWAYS seems like an unwise path to choose—at least in hindsight. In fiction and engaging on-screen drama, it amps up the plot and engages us in the story. But as far as what is good for the characters, the cost seems too great in the end to have made sacrifices of the heart worth it.

This is how life is, though, isn’t it? And off-screen, there’s more to it than that. Outcomes of each complicated heart-choice build into a series of other complex heart-choices, each bringing about other rewards and costs. A reader recently shared these words about a conversation she had about my book:

“Life is drama. We DO have ups and downs. Those hard parts of the story are the parts that need resolution. And Sara showed us that resolution and redemption. In other words, don’t judge a book by the messy part of the plot.”

I believe her words apply to Little Fires Everywhere, too. Without the drama, without the ups and downs, without circumstances that sometimes result in hard choices sacrificing the precious, there is no opportunity for change and growth. To quote from my memoir, Searching for Mom—not to be shameless, but because there seem to be a lot of complementary themes:

“Mistakes of all kinds are messy. Mistakes are painful. Mistakes hurt—often others. My mistakes hurt you, and all those who haven’t had a chance to know you. But mistakes help us grow. Mistakes offer us the opportunity to transform.”

To that end, I’ve enjoyed how Little Fires Everywhere has transformed me, pushing me to consider so many examples of ways life brings us to the point of choices, and the impact of those choices when our core values are most compromised.

There are even more examples of other key characters giving away that which is precious: Pearl, Elena, Bill—to name a few and the list could go on. What things touched you in this regard? Join me on Facebook and Instagram for conversation. I’d love to discuss more!

RELATED: Little Fires Everywhere, Narcissism, and Mother-Blaming

Picture of SARA EASTERLY

SARA EASTERLY

Sara is an award-winning author of books and essays. Her memoir, Searching for Mom, won a Gold Medal in the 2020 Illumination Book Awards. Her children's book, Lights, Camera, Fashion! – illustrated by Jaime Temairik – garnered an Oppenheim Toy Portfolio Gold Seal Award and Parents' Choice Silver Honor, among other awards. Her essays and articles have been published by Dear Adoption, Feminine Collective, Godspace, Neufeld Institute, and the Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators (SCBWI). Previously Sara led one of the largest chapters of the SCBWI, where she was recognized as Member of the Year.

search by category
STAY IN TOUCH

Don't miss any of my published essays or writing news. Sign up for my newsletter below.


By submitting this form, you are consenting to receive marketing emails from: . You can revoke your consent to receive emails at any time by using the SafeUnsubscribe® link, found at the bottom of every email. Emails are serviced by Constant Contact