In Wicked, forgiveness is inseparable from blame, and neither is depicted as especially straightforward, fair, or selfless. The novel suggests that forgiveness is less about consideration for the wronged and more about easing the conscience of the guilty, which is why it is often withheld. Elphaba’s struggle for forgiveness after Fiyero’s death reflects this tension. Though his murder is carried out by the Wizard’s men at Madame Morrible’s request, Elphaba believes her role in the resistance led to her lover’s demise. She retreats to a convent for seven years, a self-imposed penance for a moral debt she can never repay. Later, she travels to Kiamo Ko to confess to Sarima, Fiyero’s widow. But Sarima silences her before she can speak, because she recognizes that forgiveness here is not about doing the right thing—it’s about Elphaba’s need to shed her own blame and, whether consciously or not, burden Sarima with painful knowledge she does not want. Sarima already knows that no measure of absolution can undo Fiyero’s death, but it is unclear whether Elphaba, herself, is also truly aware of this.
Blame operates similarly for Frex, who attributes Turtle Heart’s death to his own failures as a minister. His Unionist faith has taught him that confession leads to absolution, but when Turtle Heart’s family denies him forgiveness outright, his belief in divine justice is threatened. Even Elphaba, who has long rejected her father’s religious worldview, inherits the same expectation that confession should lead to liberation, and she finds herself equally disillusioned when Sarima withholds it. The novel links forgiveness to religion yet removes the certainty that it is always granted, framing it instead as a fragile, human matter. Neither Frex nor Elphaba directly caused the deaths they mourn, yet they both shoulder blame because they believe someone must take on that responsibility. Ultimately, Wicked suggests that guilt endures both because forgiveness is never guaranteed and because blame is often misplaced and misdirected.
Guilt, Blame, and Forgiveness ThemeTracker
Guilt, Blame, and Forgiveness Quotes in Wicked
“I was a tool. My dear father used me [...] he used me as an object lesson. Looking as I did, even singing as I can—they trusted him partly as a response to the freakiness of me.”
“One never learns how the witch became wicked, or whether that was the right choice for her—is it ever the right choice? Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil? It is at the very least a question of definitions.”
“You want to throw down your burden, throw it down at my feet, or across my shoulders. You want perhaps to weep a little, to say good-bye, and then to leave. And when you leave here you will walk right out of the world.”
[...] Nanny began to attend to Liir’s needs more lovingly than she did the needs of Nor and Irji. Elphaba registered it with shame, for she also saw how willingly Liir responded to Nanny’s attention.
Elphaba, who had endured Sarima’s refusal to forgive, now begged by a gibbering child for the same mercy always denied her? How could you give such a thing out of your own hollowness?
But she sat up half the night and lit a candle in a window, for reasons she couldn’t articulate. The moon passed overhead in its path from the Vinkus, and she felt its accusatory spotlight, and moved back from the tall windows.



