Symbols Elphie Gregory Maguire

The Perqu’unti (Crocodrilos) Symbol in Elphie

A Monster That Mirrors the Outcast

In Elphie, Gregory Maguire introduces a singular creature—the perqu’unti, or crocodrilos—that is far more than a swamp predator. Literally, it is a deformed, spine‑covered animal with “a thicket of protuberances thrust[ing] up from its spine” and a hide that is “mud green and mud brown, blistered and battle‑scarred” (Chapter 14). The Quadlings recognize it as a dangerous anomaly, but its most important function is symbolic: the perqu’unti becomes a living emblem of otherness and identity, one whose violent death and lingering remains parallel Elphaba’s own journey from dehumanized child to the Wicked Witch of the West.

Physical Deformity and the First Encounter

The creature’s appearance is an immediate rejection of the natural order. Its horny back is covered with spines that “pitch and sway” like a hedge, and even before its eyes can focus, it seems to lodge an “editorial objection to the world.” When it first appears, the narrative describes it as “familiar and deformed at once”—a description that could just as easily apply to the green‑skinned toddler Elphaba. From the outset, the perqu’unti is marked as an outsider, much as Elphie’s skin colour, silence, and later water allergy set her apart.

The encounter in Chapter 14 establishes the bond. The perqu’unti has followed Elphie out of something inscrutable: “Something has compelled it to follow her even, as it turns out, to its death” (Chapter 15). The text speculates on the nature of that compulsion—perhaps it glimpsed “rightness in a cruel world,” or perhaps it felt a “fellow feeling, one rogue for another.” That ambiguity is crucial, because it refuses to settle whether the child and the beast are drawn by goodness or brokenness. The narrator even wonders if the creature is colour‑blind, or if “the only color perceivable is green,” making Elphie the first human it has ever truly seen. This speculation links the perqu’unti to Elphie’s uniqueness while also underscoring the danger of being perceived as monstrous.

The Sacrificial Death and Its Immediate Aftermath

The Quadling hunters, already tense from their mission to kill a Munchkinlander missionary, perceive the perqu’unti as a mortal threat. The chief orders its death, and the execution is both brutal and sorrowful. A warrior rams a flaming canoe paddle into its dorsal spines, and as the flames consume its oily skin, spears find its heart. Elphie’s scream of warning becomes the last sound it hears; the creature’s “heart bleeds, spinal brush burns” (Chapter 14). Its death, a few inches from the river that might have quenched the flames, becomes a moment of shared vulnerability. The Quadlings, despite their ferocity, “approach it with tenderness and sorrow” and drag its smoking carcass into the water.

That solemn closure reshapes the scene’s moral calculus. The chief, originally bent on abduction, interprets the sacrifice as a transaction—the “perqu’unti’s life for a Quadling glassblower’s life”—and decides to spare the green child. The choice links Elphie’s survival directly to the creature’s death, as if the crocodrilos has become a scapegoat. The narrator in Chapter 17 pushes this further, asking whether Elphie herself might have somehow arranged the exchange: “a life for a life.” Even though she is only four and cannot articulate such a thought, the text lingers on the possibility that the perqu’unti’s slaughter “righted some imbalance” and saved the family.

The immediate aftermath highlights Elphie’s isolation. She stands apart, staring at the floating corpse. She longs to wade in and touch its snout, but her water allergy—a defining condition as real as her green skin—stops her. That inability to make contact reinforces the distance between Elphie and the world. She is drawn to the creature, yet even in death she cannot reach it; the barrier of water becomes a metaphor for her permanent separation from others and from solace. Nanny’s cutting observation—“No, she prefers the corpse of a crocodrilos. I worry about that one. I really do” (Chapter 17)—cements the family’s perception that Elphie’s ties lie with the monstrous rather than the human.

From Corpse to Relic: The Symbol’s Evolution

The perqu’unti does not vanish after its death. A passage from the “Passim” chapter (Chapter 18) reveals that its remains will become a permanent fixture of Elphie’s life: “the brined crocodrilos … will be hanging from the rafters of her witch’s aerie in Kiamo Ko on the day she evaporates from her own history.” The phrase “has been with her for the duration” elevates the creature from a one‑time encounter to a lifelong companion of memory and identity. Its carcass—preserved, perhaps dried or smoked—physically travels forward in time, linking the childhood moment of violent recognition to the adult Elphaba’s transformation into the Wicked Witch.

This transformation gains a concrete echo in Chapter 60. More than a decade later, Boozy Bouzeezi and the missionaries walk along a dried‑up riverbed and discover the perqu’unti’s corpse preserved where the water table dropped. Boozy remarks that the usual scavengers “never dare demolish it,” underscoring its otherworldly quality. Elphie, who had forgotten the creature, is forced to revisit the memory. The location itself—the ghost of the old river—reasserts the creature’s role as a persistent emblem of a past that cannot be washed away. The fact that Boozy’s husband later ferries the party across a shallow stream where a crocodrilos might “disguise itself as mangrove” (Chapter 60) further blurs the line between the literal creature and the symbolic landscape that Elphie carries within her.

The perqu’unti’s transformation from living beast to preserved relic parallels Elphie’s own trajectory. The novel’s memory and narrative truth theme turns on the idea that what we forget and what we carry both shape who we become. The crocodrilos’s bones, hanging in Kiamo Ko, testify to an unreconciled past—much like Elphie’s later guilt over Nessarose’s death. The Passim chapter directly ties the creature to Elphie’s self‑delusion: “She will mourn Nessa’s death without recognizing that guilt is part of the chemical composition of grief.” The preserved carcass, then, is not just a trophy but a memento of a moral equation she may still be trying to solve.

Connections to Character and Theme

The perqu’unti illuminates several key relationships. The Quadling chief’s reluctance to slaughter it—and his decision to abandon the carcass instead of taking the meat—reveals a tender heart behind the killer musculature (Chapter 16). His action connects the creature to colonialism and exploitation; the perqu’unti features in Quadling foundation myths, yet it is still killed to defuse a tense standoff with the Munchkinlander missionaries. That slaughter, viewed through the lens of a lapsed mission and a compromised chief, mirrors the way colonized peoples are forced to sacrifice their own monsters—or their own narratives—to survive.

Within Elphie’s family, the creature deepens the dysfunction. Frex, who was largely absent during the incident, later dismisses the carcass with a hollow promise to collect its bones, a lie he deems acceptable because “it’s how children learn what lying is all about” (Chapter 17). His evasion underscores the family’s inability to acknowledge the truth of Elphie’s experiences. Melena’s scream—a long vowel interrupted—and Nanny’s archaic curse complete the tableau of adults who refuse to see what the child actually undergoes. The perqu’unti becomes the unspoken third sibling, the one Elphie can almost touch, while her parents offer only fabrications.

The creature also ties directly to Elphie’s otherness and identity. Its deformed spine, greenish mud colour, and the way it is hunted for being different all externalize Elphie’s inner experience. The text’s speculation that the perqu’unti might have seen “something right” in Elphie—or that they are “one rogue for another”—suggests that they recognize each other across the species gap. That recognition, however, carries no salvation; the perqu’unti dies, and Elphie survives only to become the object of suspicion and fear herself. The creature’s fate foreshadows her own later dehumanization: both are perceived as threats, both are violently attacked, and both end up as symbols that others can choose to preserve or discard.

Study Questions and Answers

1. What is the perqu’unti, and how is it first described physically?

The perqu’unti is a deformed member of the crocodrilos family, found in the marshlands of Quadling Country. It is first described as having “a thicket of protuberances thrust[ing] up from its spine,” a “horny hide … mud green and mud brown, blistered and battle‑scarred,” and a “spineywork defense” that becomes engorged when it is threatened (Chapter 14). The narrative emphasizes that this is a “defective specimen,” an anomaly even among its own kind, which immediately aligns it with Elphie’s own perceived deformity.

2. How does the perqu’unti’s death mirror Elphie’s experience as an outcast?

The creature is killed because it is seen as a mortal threat, even though it has been following Elphie “placidly enough” without attacking (Chapter 14). The Quadlings attack it out of fear and mob panic, a reaction that mirrors the way Elphie is judged and mistreated because of her green skin and strangeness. Both are “broken enough, wicked enough” in the eyes of others to be destroyed without real provocation. The perqu’unti’s death becomes a surrogate sacrifice that allows the Quadlings to withdraw, much as Elphie’s otherness absorbs the hostility that might otherwise be directed at her family.

3. What does the preserved carcass symbolize in Chapter 60 and in Elphie’s later life?

In Chapter 60, Boozy Bouzeezi discovers the perqu’unti’s entire preserved corpse in a drained riverbed, untouched by scavengers. This moment forces Elphie to revisit a memory she had suppressed and demonstrates that the creature’s remains have endured physically, just as its symbolic weight has endured psychologically. The Passim chapter (Chapter 18) confirms that the carcass will hang in her aerie at Kiamo Ko, turning it into a relic that accompanies her transformation into the Wicked Witch. The preserved body stands for the unburied past, for guilt and isolation that cannot be washed away—much like Elphie’s allergy to water prevents her from ever immersing herself in cleansing or connection.

4. How does Elphie’s water allergy affect her interaction with the perqu’unti, and what does this reveal?

Elphie’s allergy makes her recoil from any contact with water, a condition that isolates her from the river‑based world around her. After the perqu’unti’s body is dragged into the river, she longs to touch it—“Elphie would wade in to touch its foreleg, its snout. But then: water: she can’t” (Chapter 16). The barrier is literal and symbolic. The one creature that might share her otherness lies in the element she can never enter, highlighting her permanent separation from comfort and reconciliation. The moment also foreshadows the novel’s broader treatment of water as a source of danger and loss for Elphie, from the rainy marsh to the eventual watery threat that will define her future persona.