There are many fine women in this novel, and each of them has a distinctive, fighting sense of courage. They refuse to be beaten into submission. The fiery-tempered women, of course, are easily recognized, but it is the quiet, growing strength of Celie that finally impresses us most. For over half the novel, Celie's method of resistance to violence of all kinds is stoically to endure — to pretend that she is wood, a tree bending but not breaking. This psychology works for Celie. For a long time, it is enough. But later, she luckily has friends who convince her that it is not enough to simply endure and "be alive." One must fight. By nature, Celie is not a fighter. In fact, she refuses to fight until she realizes how thoroughly cruel her husband has been.
For years, Celie "absorbs" Albert's brutal violence, but when she sees proof that he has hidden all of her sister's letters from her, trying to make her think that Nettie was either dead or that she never wrote to her, Celie can take no more. She revolts. She erupts, cursing her husband, and she leaves him to go to Memphis and find happiness with a woman who loves her.
Celie has struggled for many years, keeping alive the memory of Nettie, believing in Nettie, despite the fact that there was no proof that Nettie was alive. It is Celie's courageous spirit that we admire, her fierce, unflagging love for Nettie. And it is Celie's love for Nettie and for Shug that finally allows her to forgive her husband, Albert, for all of his intentional cruelty. Love heals heartaches, and love leads Celie to forgiveness and reconciliation.
