logo

63 pages 2 hours read

Jonathan Franzen

Crossroads

Fiction | Novel | Adult | Published in 2021

A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.

Character Analysis

Marion

All of the members of the Hildebrandt family are siloed into their own private conflicts throughout most of the novel, but none is as lonely as Marion when the novel begins. A pastor’s wife who knows how she is expected to behave, Marion has no close friends and is considered by most of her neighbors to be a blandly kind mother. “As soon as people had met her,” the narrator explains in Section 5, “and identified her position in the community, situated her at the Very Nice end of the all-important niceness spectrum, she became invisible to them” (127). Marion is invisible to her own family as well. Her children hardly ever think about her, and her husband Russ actively dislikes her when the novel starts. He is resentful that she has gained weight since he met her and sees her as the source of most of his problems. As the narrator says in a section from Becky’s perspective, “Family life was like a microcosm of high school. Her mother wasn’t popular” (80).

Over the novel’s three years, all of the Hildebrandt family members—with the exception of Judson, whose perspective the reader does not see—face some sort of turning point involving a choice that will affect their lives for years to come. Marion’s choice involves how she will handle the secret of her past. As a 20-something young woman, she experienced sexual assault and mental health issues. The latter manifested in frightening physical symptoms and obsession over a married man, all just a few years after her father killed himself. No one in her family knows the full details of this history, but when Marion confesses them to her therapist, she realizes the decades-long strategy of bottling them up and trying to live a quietly righteous life to make up for perceived sin is no longer a viable strategy. Her past bubbles up to the surface and she once again begins obsessing over the married man with whom she had an affair.

Ultimately, Marion chooses to leave her past behind, be more honest in her marriage, and embrace her faith. When she reunites with Bradley Grant, she finally realizes that her obsession is the result of her mental health, not genuine love, and leaving her husband for Bradley would not be a solution to her problems. Instead, she repairs her relationship with Russ and commits herself anew to God. While her daughter, Becky, and many of the Crossroads teens view God as a compassionate savior, Marion views God more as a righteous judge. She likes that he rewards the worthy and punishes the sinful; his justice gives her the opportunity to repent and express shame and guilt, unlike her therapist, who tells her that her traumatic experiences were not her fault. Individual readers may or may not think Marion’s relationship to faith is healthy and constructive, but she chooses to cling to it at the end of the book. Whether she will go forward with more honesty about her past and her feelings, or fall back into old patterns of bottling up her strong personality to make herself small, is a choice Marion will continue to make every day. 

Russ

Russ Hildebrandt, associate minister of First Reformed Church, is probably the character who is condemned most harshly by the other family members. In many ways, their condemnation is justified. Clem sees his father as a moral fraud—a person who pretends to care about the underprivileged but actually only cares about himself. Becky sees him as a person who does not excel at practicing the faith he preaches. Perry sees him as someone whose first priority is having an affair with Frances Cottrell. Marion sees him as someone who has stopped loving her because she gained weight.

Some of these assessments are more accurate than others, but none is categorically wrong. Russ genuinely cares about people who face discrimination, but he is also guilty of occasionally grandstanding about his deep respect for such communities, showing off his liberal bona fides. Moreover, he is sometimes guilty of trying to turn people of color into instruments for his own ends—like when he tries to convince Clyde, a young Native man, to educate his Crossroads crew about Navajo struggles despite Clyde’s obvious disinterest in acting as a prop for white teens’ enrichment. Meanwhile, Russ has a relationship with God, but he also sees himself as a victim of God’s unfair preferences. In Rick’s office, he tells Rick that he perceives God as having arbitrarily chosen Rick to be gifted with leading kids, while he, Russ, did not receive this gift. Rather than relating to God by trying to obey God’s laws, Russ prefers relating to God by wallowing in guilt, thereby plunging himself into the depths where he most needs God’s mercy.

Russ’s first priority is indeed having an affair with Frances Cottrell, as Perry suspects, because he stopped loving Marion after she gained weight—though he also resents her for other reasons. When faced with the choice to prioritize his family life or attempt to start an affair with Frances, he chooses the latter, leading to his downfall and a rift in the family that remains unresolved at the end of the novel. Despite flagrant warning signs of Perry’s drug use before the spring Arizona trip, Russ chooses not to address his son’s problems in any way, take him on the trip, and not monitor him at all, even letting him join the group going to an entirely different work site. As a result, Perry gets himself into a situation where he is robbed and abandoned on the side of the road, which ultimately leads to him accidentally burning down a building when trying to start a fire for warmth. Afterward, Russ realizes his folly, repents, and gives up the affair, recommitting himself to his wife and family. By this point, however, he is too late to have prevented tragedy, and Russ must live with the knowledge that his restless pursuit of Frances played a significant part in his family’s economic distress and a long-term conflict with Becky.

Clem

The oldest Hildebrandt sibling, Clem holds both himself and others to high moral standards. Although he does not subscribe to his father’s Christianity, he nevertheless lives by a strict set of principles. He also has a strong sense of self, not caring about popularity but still glad that his sister is so well-liked.

The high standards to which Clem holds people sometimes result in severe judgments. When he sees his father jockeying for favor among the popular gang at Crossroads and later giving in to their demands, he is severely disillusioned. Thereafter, he sees Russ as a moral coward and begins to realize this fault extends to other areas of Russ’s life in addition to Crossroads. Clem’s assessment is correct, but he feels so strongly about his moral condemnation that he cannot dredge up any love for Russ at all, even when Russ expresses his own deep love and admiration for Clem.

This inflexible attitude is Clem’s major internal conflict throughout the novel. When he decides to give up his student deferment, he makes the decision on abstract moral grounds. His loved ones’ feelings are not a relevant factor. By the end of the novel, he learns that he cares more about maintaining relationships than about achieving perfect moral consistency. Ultimately, he undergoes this change for the sake of Becky, the person he loves most in the world. Although he does not agree with her choices in shutting out Russ, Marion, and Perry, he respects her wishes to not challenge the boundaries she has drawn, thereby proving he no longer prioritizes moral consistency above all else.

Becky

Becky, the second Hildebrandt child, is widely known in New Prospect for her beauty and popularity. She is both popular and kind, recognizing that people will like her more for being inclusive than they will for being cliquish. Just because she is kind to her classmates does not mean she is unaware of her power, however. She knows she has a knack for quickly and easily gaining adults’ trust. All the Hildebrandt siblings can see she is both Aunt Shirley’s and Russ’s favorite child in the family. Rick Ambrose also almost immediately takes her into his confidence when she joins Crossroads. All of this favoritism seems to accrue to Becky simply because she is pretty; she is undoubtedly kind and friendly, but not remarkably kinder and friendlier than the average person.

Throughout the novel, Becky goes on the standard teenage journey of establishing an identity separate from her family. She does nothing wildly rebellious; she tries marijuana only once and waits over a year before having sex with her boyfriend, Tanner. She does, however, start disengaging from obvious family tensions like Russ’s distraction, Marion’s sudden changes, Clem’s deferment decision, and Perry’s drug addiction. Rather than concern herself with these problems, she turns her attention to Tanner and to her renewed interest in faith. While Christianity may not seem like a normal outlet for teenage rebellion, Becky’s pursues it apart from her father, the associate minister, and cultivates a close relationship with Russ’s enemy, Rick Ambrose.

After Perry’s arrest and suicide attempt, Becky must decide whether she will take part in bearing her family’s burdens or separate from them completely. She chooses the latter, and her choice is one of the most morally ambiguous in the novel. On one hand, she seems callous toward her brother’s genuine mental health crisis and the extent to which it will dictate her parents’ lives for potentially decades. On the other hand, her parents completely derailed her college plans by first persuading her to split Aunt Becky’s inheritance with her brothers and then taking what was left of her portion to pay for Perry’s legal troubles. The end of the novel finds her aware that she wields power as the aggrieved party and as the mother of a new grandchild Russ and Marion want to have a relationship with. While her feelings of betrayal are not unwarranted, she still has lessons to learn about using her popularity and influence graciously rather than punitively. 

Perry

Many characters in the novel misunderstand Perry, the third Hildebrandt child. They assume that because he is intelligent, he thinks he is better than other people. In fairness, Perry does think he is smarter than most people, but not better. In fact, he considers himself a deeply flawed person, and his chief goal throughout most of his sections is to become a better person. While he sincerely wants to become more selfless, he does not understand how to do that when the analytical part of his brain can never stop calculating the possible benefit he might receive from any kind action.

In one of his most memorable scenes, Perry admits to First Reformed’s senior minister Dwight Haefle that he feels as if everyone in town considers themselves saved and himself damned. His sense of isolation mirrors Marion’s. She notices his inner turmoil and wants to help him, worried that she has passed on her family’s mental health history, but her method backfires. She thinks it will be a good idea to tell him the truth about her family, but that news only worsens his anxiety. The fact that no adults in his life successfully guide him through his serious moral and spiritual questions is a significant factor in his turn toward drugs.

By the time the reader gets to Perry’s final point-of-view section, he has become such a constant cocaine user that he no longer thinks much about damnation, salvation, or becoming a good person. The cocaine gives him such a rush of energy that he considers himself a godlike figure for whom everything can and will work out. The choice Perry makes to walk ever further down the path of addiction results in financial and emotional calamity for his family. He accidentally sets a building on fire, gets arrested, and subsequently tries to kill himself.

Even though his actions cause a ripple effect of devastation, Perry cannot be held solely responsible for this damage. He is only 16 at the time of the crisis, and his parents had ample opportunity to notice the warning signs in his behavior and intervene. They could not tear themselves away from their own preoccupations long enough to do so. Perry may be guilty of self-absorption, but he is also a living reminder to his family of the importance of not letting that self-absorption blot out other people’s pain.

blurred text
blurred text
blurred text
blurred text