Crows as a Symbol of Menace and Complicity in Small Things Like These

The December of Crows: Literal Description

In chapter 4, the narrative opens with the striking observation that “It was a December of crows.” These birds arrive in “black batches,” gathering at the outskirts of town before moving in to walk the streets, perch impudently on buildings, and scavenge for dead matter or anything edible. At night they roost in the huge old trees surrounding the convent on the hill. The crows are both a natural phenomenon and an unnerving presence that the townspeople remark upon but do not investigate.

The convent itself presents a picture of order — shaved lawns, ornamental shrubs, tall hedges cut square, and holly bushes laden with berries that, for some reason, no bird has touched. That detail creates a striking contrast: the crows are hungry and active everywhere else, yet they avoid the convent’s holly. The untouched berries hint at a false perfection, a silent warning that something is wrong behind the well-kept gates.

Where Crows Recur

The crows appear most prominently in this early chapter, but they echo later in the novella. During Furlong’s nighttime reconnaissance of the convent on Christmas Eve, he sees “a black cat eating from the carcass of a crow.” That image of predation — a cat devouring a dead crow — reinforces the cycle of violence and silence. Later, when Furlong visits the Wilson estate, he notices “the rooks and the nests they’d built” in the old oaks and lime trees. Rooks are close relatives of crows, and both belong to the corvid family. Their presence at the site of Furlong’s childhood links the symbolic weight of the birds to his own origins and the secrets of the past.

How the Meaning Shifts

Initially, the crows function as an atmospheric omen. They arrive in December, a month of cold and darkness, and their scavenging mirrors the town’s economic hardship and moral decay. The fact that no one does anything about them — or about the convent’s dark rumors — underscores the theme of silence and complicity. The crows become the visible embodiment of what people will not say aloud.

The dead crow eaten by a cat deepens the symbolism. It suggests that even natural predators are caught in a chain of consumption: the convent, like the cat, feeds on the vulnerable, while the crows — representing communal unease — are consumed in turn. This moment occurs just before Furlong decides to act, making the carcass a spur to moral courage.

At the Wilson estate, the rooks and nests evoke Furlong’s own hidden history — his mother’s premarital pregnancy, the unknown father, and the kindness of Mrs Wilson who took them in. The rooks are not menacing here; they are part of the landscape of his childhood. This shift from fearful omen to familiar presence mirrors Furlong’s personal growth from passive observer to active rescuer.

Connections to Characters and Themes

Bill Furlong notices the crows and their behavior, just as he pays attention to the starving child gathering sticks and the girl in the chapel. His sensitivity makes him the story’s moral center. The crows unsettle him, and that unease eventually drives him to retrieve Sarah Redmond from the coal shed. Furlong’s journey is from complicity to action, and the crows mark each stage.

Eileen Furlong, by contrast, represents the town’s willful blindness. She tells her husband to ignore what he saw at the convent, warning that getting involved will endanger their family. The crows are exactly the kind of troubling sign she chooses not to see. Their presence highlights the class and economic hardship that makes silence a survival strategy — as Furlong himself reflects, “the empty sack cannot stand.”

Mother Superior and the convent staff maintain a polished exterior while concealing the exploitation of young women. The crows that roost in the convent trees are a constant reminder that nature itself registers the rot. But Mother Superior’s smooth reassurances succeed because the townspeople prefer to believe the picture of a Christmas-card convent rather than the testimony of their own eyes and ears.

The hypocrisy versus ideals theme is threaded through the crow imagery. The novella opens with an epigraph from the 1916 Proclamation promising to cherish all children equally. Crows, as scavengers, are indifferent to human ideals — they feed on what is discarded. The state and church that claimed to protect the vulnerable instead allowed institutions to become places of incarceration and death, as the historical note at the end reveals. The crows are an earthy, honest counterpoint to lofty rhetoric.

On a deeper level, the crows connect to family and legacy. Furlong’s own mother was taken in by Mrs Wilson, and he often thinks about the “small things” that shaped his life. The rooks at the Wilson house are part of his inheritance — a reminder that love and decency can break the cycle of poverty and shame. His decision to bring Sarah home is an act of legacy-making: he is choosing to pass on kindness rather than complicity.

Four Study Questions with Answers

1. What does the description of the crows in December reveal about the town’s attitude toward the convent?
   The townspeople remark on the beautiful picture the convent makes, with frosted evergreens and untouched holly berries, but they do not connect the unusual behavior of the crows to what might be happening inside. The crows are a visible sign of unease, yet the community dismisses them as mere gossip. This reveals a collective decision to maintain superficial appearances rather than confront troubling realities.

2. How does the dead crow in the later chapter function as a turning point for Furlong?
   As Furlong walks around the convent before the rescue, he sees a black cat eating from a crow’s carcass. The image of one predator consuming another sharpens his awareness of the predatory system he is about to challenge. Immediately after this sight, he slides the coal-shed bolt and calls Sarah’s name. The dead crow crystallizes his decision to stop being a passive observer.

3. In what ways do the crows contrast with the convent’s idealized appearance?
   The convent is described in terms of geometric order — shaved lawns, square hedges, shining windows — and is compared to a Christmas card. The crows are wild, scavenging, impudent, and associated with death. They roost in the very trees that frame the convent’s pretty picture, and the fact that the holly berries remain untouched despite the birds’ hunger suggests an unnatural sterility. The crows expose the convent’s beauty as a mask.

4. Why might the author choose to pair the crows with the town’s rumors about the convent?
   The paragraph about the crows is immediately followed by several paragraphs detailing contradictory rumors — that the convent is a training school, a reformatory, or a mother-and-baby home. The crows mirror the way rumors “gather” and “scavenge” around the place, yet people dismiss them as idle talk. The crows make the unease visible, while the rumors give it words that no one dares verify. Together they illustrate how complicity works: evidence is all around, but everyone chooses not to see or speak.

The crows of December, the dead crow on the snowy path, and the rooks in the old trees form a quiet but insistent symbol in Small Things Like These. They point to what the town cannot bear to acknowledge and to the courage needed to break the silence. For Bill Furlong, their presence is a call he finally answers, climbing the hill toward home with Sarah at his side.