5. He . . . wondered if Meridian knew that the sentence of bearing
the conflict in her own soul which she had imposed on herself—and lived
through—must now be borne in terror by all the rest of them.
This is the final sentence in the novel. Meridian, like a phoenix, has
emerged whole and restored after facing various trials, and her
transformation is quiet yet triumphant. Now Meridian packs her meager
belongings and moves on to the next town and the next challenge, armed with
her newfound strength and resolve. In her stead, Truman is struck with her
mysterious illness, falling to the ground after reading the words of
Meridian’s poem in which she finally forgives him. The poem goes on to say
that she loves him and that their innocence and purity have given way to
wisdom and healing. Regaining consciousness after his spell, Truman wakes to
find his cheek resting on Meridian’s cap, the covering she no longer needs
since her hair has grown back in. She can now expose herself to the world,
no longer oppressed by her shame and guilt. In her absence, Truman becomes
Meridian’s surrogate. She has gone before the others and paved the way to
self-acceptance and self-knowledge. At the conclusion of the novel, it is
Truman’s turn to embark on a similar, albeit difficult, journey toward the
same goal.
