George’s last name probably refers to John Milton and his poem Paradise Lost, which includes the Biblical stories of Adam, Eve, Cain, and Abel. Everything comes full circle when you realize these Biblical stories are reflected in Of Mice and Men. Critics have pointed out that George and Lennie’s loss of the mythical dream farm can be paralleled to Adam and Eve’s expulsion from the Garden of Eden, while George and Lennie’s relationship asks the question "Am I my brother’s keeper?" a central question for Cain and Abel. (Cain and Abel were the sons of Adam and Eve. It’s a long story, but in short, Cain kills his brother.)
George and Lennie are like brothers who are responsible for each other, and the Cain and Abel parable adds a different lens to interpret Lennie’s murder. Is George’s killing of Lennie like Cain’s wrongful murder of Abel, or is it the best way for George to take care of Lennie?
After all this talk touching on the complexity of George’s character, it’s only fitting that Lennie Small’s name is symbolic too. Lennie is obviously not "small" physically, and his name is something of a joke to the people that first meet him. Still, he is actually quite "small" of mind, which people wouldn’t know if they didn’t talk to him. Lennie Small’s name highlights the contradictory stuff of his character – because he’s big, he seems threatening, but he’s actually quite tender. Though he never means any harm, he always seems to end up hurting something.
Believe it or not, Curley’s wife not having a name can be seen as symbolic as well. Her missing a name emphasizes her second-class citizenship. The woman has no name because she is just an object, the "property" of someone else. Curley’s wife can only be seen in reference to her husband, who (supposedly) owns and controls her body, and by extension, her. If Curley’s wife had a name, the men would relate to her as a person, but there’s no need for that kind of social nicety. Like the unnamed "boss" character, Curley’s wife is only important to note for the limited role she plays as Curley’s wife.
The language of the characters is fairly simple, and meant to represent the way normal, working class ranch people of Depression era America would speak. Most vocabulary is of an everyday kind, except for words particular to farm equipment and jobs (like skinners, swampers, and buckers). In the dialogue, Steinbeck uses slang, vulgarities, and non-standard terms ("ain’t," "would of," "brang," and so on) to convey an authentic sense of the characters. These aren’t highfalutin’ people by any means, and they speak straight and often dirty. The idiosyncratic speech patterns, obscenities, and casual lingo ("she’s a loo loo," "Curley’s got ants in his pants") help recreate a particular time, place, and social strata that make the book sound real.
It’s interesting to note that everyone in the book seems to use rather similar language. The boss doesn’t speak with any more refinement than the ranch guys. Lennie, though he’s slow, isn’t less able to communicate with words than others. Even Crooks, who is constantly made separate because he’s black, speaks just the same as anybody else. It’s almost as if Steinbeck puts language to work as an equalizing force; no matter what’s said about any man, so long as he can speak for himself, his story is as important as any other.
While a lot of the talking is loose and fast, part of Steinbeck’s genius is being able to communicate sophisticated ideas and feelings through simple and unassuming language. Even though George and Lennie aren’t full of lofty words to discuss their dream, there’s something endearing and earnest about the way the two of them discuss it together. It’s as if both men can be dreamers because they have each other. It’s really important that Lennie remembers few things, but knows this story of the ranch almost by heart. Lennie is promised a part to play, and George is made a bit more important by being put in charge of telling the dream. The dream, and the way it’s told as a back-and-forth between the two men, gives both Lennie and George something to hold on to, as well as the promise that they’re part of something bigger.