What’s Going On in “A Small Thing”

A Small Thing initially appears to be a story about a birthday party gone bad when the birthday girl can’t separate reality from fantasy. But the story is as much about Emma’s fantasy life as it is about her mother, Sage’s.

The difference here is that Emma is four, and she rightly mixes up the make-believe with the real world: a purple gorillas exists because she sees one lumbering towards her, grinning and offering bananas. All the kids indulge in fantasy at various points. They want to be princesses and feel special. Or they imagine themselves as powerful and in command when they conquer Ben and keep him from eating the candy. And they suddenly feel small, helpless, and scared when the gorilla appears.

But kids aren’t the only ones who have fantasies.

At the end of the story, Sage’s inner conflict and her fantasy become more defined. It’s not just that she doesn’t want to be pregnant and regrets her actions; she’s conflicted about the breakup with Ben. “It’s really over between us,” she says, and though Ben isn’t sure whether she’s asking or telling him, the fact that she’s saying this suggests she’s not completely sure the relationship is over—at least her end of it. After all, hadn’t she also waved her magic wand at Ben, hoping to turn him into a dragon-slaying prince? This is her fantasy because for his part, Ben seems resolved to be broken up.

For Sage, telling her daughter that Ben isn’t the father of her developing baby has significant meaning: it puts the final nail in the coffin of their potential reunion. Both Ben and Sage are aware that their daughter likely is similarly holding onto a fantasy that her parents will get back together. But we have to wonder if Sage is looking out for her daughter’s feelings or for her own by not revealing the truth about her pregnancy. In actuality, she isn’t helping Emma by letting her have false hopes, for as time passes, the truth will become harder and harder for Emma to swallow.

You might say that Sage is fooling herself with another fantasy, telling herself that in delaying the truth she’s helping Emma when in fact she’s only protecting herself from her own grief.

Though this story is fiction, it’s based on an actual event: fifteen years ago, a good friend found a purple gorilla suit and similarly surprised his daughter at her birthday party. And, like story-Emma, his daughter screamed and ran away. For a little while, the birthday bash turned into a sobbing mess of small children.

Fifteen years ago, when the real-life Emma was safely tucked into bed the night following the party, her dad asked her something. “Were you scared the gorilla would hurt someone or do something like steal you away?”

He told me afterwards it was a shot in the dark but that he needed to know. Another way to put it: he was trying to figure out her fantasy so he could more easily speak to her worries.

She told her dad no, that wasn’t it. She knew they were about to have birthday cake and she thought the gorilla had come to eat it all, leaving nothing for her and her friends. “You have to have cake or everything gets ruined. Everyone leaves.”

With this new understanding—that she was scared people would leave her and her party—her dad could speak more directly to her misperceptions and fears to alleviate them.