Character Analysis
Absent Mama
Meggie doesn't remember much about Resa, since she was only three when her mom left… a.k.a. disappeared into a book. And though this means Meggie's pretty much grown up without a mom, she doesn't learn the reason why—that it's because she's lost in bookland—until she's twelve and on the crazy adventure that makes up our story.
This means that for much of the book, our understanding of Resa is primarily formed by what Mo—the only person who remembers her—says. For instance, Mo describes her in relation to her taste in books:
She always did like tales of adventure—stories full of brightness and darkness. She could tell you the names of all King Arthur's knights, and she knew everything about Beowulf and Grendel, the ancient gods and the not-so-ancient heroes. (16.7)
It's a good thing that Resa is drawn toward adventure-filled books like these, because when Mo accidentally reads her into Inkheart, this is exactly the kind of book she finds herself stuck in. But though she's stuck in the world of Inkheart for nine years, doesn't mean that she doesn't influence Meggie at all, and there are small ways in which her daughter is just like her. As Mo tells Meggie:
You look more like her than me, I'm glad to say. She laughs like you, and she chews a strand of hair while she's reading exactly the way you do […]. She loves stones—flat, smooth stones that fit comfortably into the hand. She always has one or two of them in her pocket, and she weighs down books with them, especially paperbacks. (29.22-26)
So Meggie laughs like her mom, and shares a fondness for hair nibbling with her too, plus they both adore books. It's definitely not the same as getting to see and chat with your mom, but it's also cool to recognize that Resa is intrinsically a part of Meggie's life anyway.
And though Resa's been away all these years, Meggie has remained an integral part of her life, too. She passes a note to Meggie in the crypt that says: "Nine years is a long time. I celebrated all your birthdays. You're ever lovelier than I imagined you" (49.29). In other words, Meggie's been on Resa's mind throughout the years—and she's super proud of how her daughter's turned out when she finally gets to see her again.
Super Storyteller
While stuck working as a maid in Capricorn's village, Resa hangs out with Dustfinger. Unable to speak after being read out of Inkheart by Darius, she "had taught him [Dustfinger] to read and write so they could communicate with one another" (33.18). Though Dustfinger's a tricky dude (be sure to read his analysis elsewhere in this section), some company is better than none.
Befriending Resa is a real score for Dustfinger, and according to him, "She knew endless numbers of stories" (43.21). So Resa doesn't just teach Dustfinger to read, but she entertains him and broadens his world. Plus these two can communicate, which has got to be nice for Resa since she can't speak and Capricorn has made sure very few people can read in his village (so she can't exactly write to everyone around her).
Resa didn't just lose the ability to speak when she was read out of Inkheart, though—her appearance has been shifting since Darius read her out too. She has blue eyes and dark blond hair that, according to Capricorn, looked like "spun gold" (39.34) when she was first read out of the book. Since then, though, it's darkened. No explanation is offered for this change, though it seems possible that it's a metaphor for Resa's spirits darkening as years go by and she remains trapped in silence and a strange land.
Ultimately all ends well for Resa, despite her willingness to risk death by staying with her daughter when Dustfinger busts out of jail. Death doesn't come knocking for Resa that day or any day after, so when Capricorn is finally killed, Resa gets the chance to makes up for lost time with Meggie by staying with her daughter at Elinor's house and filling her in about the world of Inkheart:
Meggie's mother needed a great deal of paper to write down her memories of it. Every evening Meggie asked her to tell more stories, and then they sat together while Teresa wrote and Meggie read the words and sometimes even tried to paint pictures of what her mother described. (59.25)
That sounds like some quality mother-daughter bonding time to us.