Matilda The Supernatural

While this seems like a supernatural moment to everybody else in the chapter (the Wormwood parents and Matilda's older brother), it totally has a logical explanation. There is no "ghost." It's a parrot. But, because the other people in the room don't know the logical explanation, they have to believe that it really is a ghost.

Since most of us are unlikely to move things with our own minds in real life (unless there's something Shmoop doesn't know about you), a writer who's describing telekinesis has to go the extra mile to make sure the readers get a feel for exactly what the process is like. We'd say Roald Dahl delivers on that here. Can't you imagine the millions of invisible little arms and hands that are reaching out of Matilda's eyeballs?

What's so awesome about Matilda's telekinesis is not just the fact that she can move things with her mind. It's that her ability makes her feel so spectacular—serene, confident, and no longer frightened. This ability makes Matilda not only sure of herself, but brave, too.

Before this moment, Matilda knew she loved to read and use her mind, but she was frustrated by being such a small, underappreciated kid. With this electricity, she has a feeling of great strength for maybe the first time in her life.

What Matilda's just done is so bananas that it doesn't make very much sense to say it aloud. She doesn't have the fancy words to explain moving stuff with her mind neatly or clearly. So her explanation comes out all jumbled, in a sentence that has five "ands" in it. (Go on, count 'em. We'll wait.) Of course, unless you're Roald Dahl, we're betting the supernatural is pretty tough to explain.

Okay, so Matilda's not out healing the sick or turning water into wine or bread into fish. But the words here remind us of descriptions of saints and religion. See, Miss Honey thinks that what Matilda's done is every bit as impressive as those other, more famous miracles. Now Matilda is beautiful and transfigured, just like other holy figures of the past.

Wise words, Miss Honey. While Matilda is too excited to stop to think about the hows and whys of her power, where it came from or why she got it, Miss Honey is taking a bit more of a cautious approach. When you're dealing with the supernatural, it's better to be safe than sorry. Or so they say.

Hey, Matilda says, if I can push an object, well surely I can lift it. It's only logical. Of course none of this is logical. It's telekinesis. It's a miracle.

Matilda wouldn't be Matilda if she didn't use her powers for good. (And to punish the wicked, of course.) Even though Miss Honey is worried about Matilda using her powers, we're betting she's grateful for them when they get her out from under the Trunchbull's evil control.

When Matilda tries "just for fun," she's not able to use telekinesis any more. Not even a little bit. It's like she never had the power in the first place. It has vanished into thin air. After this, Miss Honey suggests that Matilda lost the power because it was based on her extra brain juice; she had extra mental energy to burn and it was shooting out like telekinesis. But once she moves up to a challenging class, the extra energy gets used up.

You could also say, though, that when Matilda uses her powers earlier in the book, she's either really mad about unfair treatment or trying to prevent unfairness. And once the Trunchbull has been stopped, a lot of that unfairness goes away. Now she has no justice to dole out, so her powers are unnecessary.