Thomasina: A Personal Reflection and Review by Alison Armstrong
Of all the books that have sparked my imagination and helped to shape my beliefs when I was growing up, Paul Gallico’s Thomasina: The Cat Who Thought She Was God had the most impact. This novel, interspersing first-person accounts from a cat’s perspective with a third-person narrative set in 1950s Scotland, enticed me with its blend of myth, fantasy, humor, sorrow, and its inspiring, Nature-revering spirituality.
Thomasina weaves together the fates of five main characters– Thomasina, a witty, perceptive, self-absorbed cat; her owner, Mary Ruadh MacDhui, a lonely little girl; Dr. Andrew MacDhui, her father, an embittered, arrogant, atheistic veterinarian; Andrew’s friend, Mr. Peddie, a gentle, loving clergyman who believes all living beings are sacred, and “mad” Lori, a reclusive young woman who lives alone in the wilderness and heals wounded animals. As in a Greek tragedy, MacDhui’s obstinate pride, combined with his lack of faith and lack of compassion, sets in motion a chain of events that can either lead to ruin or spiritual transformation. Although devoted to his young daughter, the widower MacDhui does not understand the intense loneliness Mary experiences as a result of her mother’s death. Left alone with a housekeeper while her father is at work, Mary turns to her cat, Thomasina, for comfort. When Thomasina suddenly falls gravely ill, MacDhui is too preoccupied trying to save a blind man’s guide dog and too convinced of Thomasina’s dire prognosis to try to save her. Ordering his assistant to put the cat to sleep, he disregards his daughter’s anguished pleas to spare her beloved pet. He does not realize that by his insensitive, uncaring actions he has inadvertently betrayed his daughter’s trust in him and caused her to fall into a deep, debilitating depression that will jeopardize her health. As Mary retreats further and further away from her father, her friends, and external reality, she loses her will to live. Thomasina, meanwhile, miraculously manages to survive her attempted murder, and, rescued by Lori, believes herself to be an incarnation of the ancient cat goddess Bast. Although no one else in the book shares her belief, Thomasina is not the only character whose faith in a divine power provides a revitalizing alternative to MacDhui’s bleak, cynical materialism. Peddie’s compassionate, all-embracing Christianity and Lori’s pantheistic spirituality offer the hope, purpose, and healing MacDhui and his severely depressed daughter so desperately need but do not know how to obtain on their own. Amdist the complex, interrelated threads of destiny ensnaring MacDhui, Peddie, Lori, Mary, and Thomasina, a path to redemption can be found, but first MacDhui must relinquish his imprisoning pride.
Gallico’s compelling exploration of Christian and pagan religious themes, animal consciousness, and childhood grief yields enthralling glimpses into a mystical, almost Edenic world where reverence for Nature, compassion and mysticism prevail against ruthless materialism. Revisiting Thomasina now as an adult, I find that the book has not lost any beauty, power or magic I remember from my first reading of it.
If anything, I value it even more because of the lasting influence it has had upon me. Through Thomasina I first became aware of non-Christian religions (ancient Egyptian and pagan Celtic), and in Lori, the gentle “witch” who healed the injured animals of the forest, I found my first heroine—a woman who existed apart from traditional society, independent, kind, wise, intuitive. Thomasina and Mary were equally memorable, symbolizing perhaps the animal I often wished I could transform myself into and the introspective, depressed child I actually was. The book started me on a journey which, like Thomasina’s revelatory adventures, led to self-discovery and a greater appreciation of life’s sacred mysteries.