Great Fires Everywhere
One of the many stories of human creation has been passed down through Greek mythology. Zeus, sixth child of Cronos and Rhea, god of the sky and ruler of Mount Olympus, assigned the Titan Prometheus with the task of creating humans. His creation emerged from clay mixtures of water and earth and was given fire stolen from Zeus’ lightning. In doing so, Prometheus offered this third element to humankind, equipping them with a skill both practical and symbolic.
After a cruel twist of fate, this blessing turned into one of the first documented forms of a pyro-disaster in 1871 during what has come to be known as the Great Chicago Fire. Some said a cow kicked over a lantern. Other rumors convinced people that a meteor struck the city’s business district, igniting the fire. Whether accidental or intentional, fire from then on became known as a bringer of calamity. The event laid down a blueprint that hauntingly fits the sequence of events seen throughout history when countries have condemned groups of people as barbarians, cannibals, pests. What can the people do, but to fight back with every element of their own being? With water, a core instrument of Promethean creation, there is a fluidity that can even extinguish manmade fires that start from within.
But nature is burning with an equal if not more fervent passion. Across the west coast in regions like California, eight of the 10 largest fires in the state’s history have burned in the past decade. The consequences of climate change are clearly seen, yet there are people who irrationally dismiss scientific evidence and data. As Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote for the September issue of Vanity Fair, “Whiteness thrives in darkness.” And so, with fire comes light. The Great Fires fueled by oppressors and the light capable of eliminating the darkness that they thrive in are one and the same. Time again we have seen, and will continue to see, that denial is simply a catalyst hastening this inevitable cycle. Before long, little fires will be found everywhere.
The first episode of Little Fires Everywhere, the Hulu Original miniseries adapted from Celeste Ng’s novel of the same name, opens with the show’s picture-perfect-obsessed Elena Richardson witnessing the aftermath of her own denial. Elena goes so far as to abandon her children’s developing identities in order to preserve her personal definition of an ideal family and reject a regretful past. Elena’s life is disrupted with the arrival of Mia and Pearl Warren, a nomadic mother-daughter pair that decides to settle in the neighborhood of Shaker Heights. The two families’ children become intertwined in each other’s lifestyles and identities, learning about lives that they wish could have been theirs in another lifetime.
As Pearl learns the truth about her father and accepts her origins, she discovers that the possibilities of human birth are as plentiful as the myths of creation. Pearl recalibrates her past experiences with an even greater respect for her mother who equipped her with a set of emotions and creativity that could never be contained within her bedroom’s cerulean blue walls. All her life, Pearl had been tucked away in the center of her mother’s universe and embrace. Like water, she begins to take hold of the earth around her and mold it into her own poetic creations.
Over time, Mia experiences creative growth of her own as she digs into Shaker’s white sugar-coated history and uncovers a system of regimented rules that attempts to hide its racist underpinnings. Her repulsion is shared by the rebellious Izzy, the youngest child of the Richardsons, who takes a strong liking to Mia. Fueled by these new discoveries, Mia takes advantage of her job as a “house manager” at the Richardsons’ and steals household objects to incorporate into her art. At the center of her last masterpiece is a storied maroon feather taken from Izzy’s bedroom, placed in a miniature bird cage with a door that’s left ajar. The artwork precipitates a chain of events set off by Izzy’s strong personality compounded by an accumulation of unjust experiences. Everywhere she goes, Izzy ignites a trail of sparks that proves to be contagious. It catches onto her siblings who conspire to plant little fires throughout their house that allow them to rise from the ashes like phoenixes of myth.
After a cyclical progression, the show ends in a blaze that takes things back to the very beginning, starting with the story of human creation, fire’s transformation into a bringer of calamity, but ending on its hopeful ability to bring about renewal.
