How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
"Yes, and he was our little brother. I think that was why"—she thought for a moment, still smiling to herself—"yes, why he told us such impossible stories, such strange imaginings. He was jealous, I think, because we were older—and because we could read better." (1.34)
Ah, good old sibling rivalry. If you have an older sibling, or younger one, we bet you can relate. What's so great about this sibling rivalry is that it ends up feeding Mrs. May's brother's imagination. So even though the older ones have the power, the youngster has the power of his mind.
Quote #2
"The child is right," she announced firmly.
Arrietty's eyes grew big. "Oh, no—" she began. It shocked her to be right. Parents were right, not children. Children could say anything, Arrietty knew, and enjoy saying it—knowing always they were safe and wrong. (6.60-61)
This is a big part of growing up, isn't it? The moment when your parents admit that you're right and they're wrong is a huge moment on the path to adulthood.
Quote #3
"All the same," said Pod uncertainly, "the risk's there. I never heard of no girl going borrowing before."
"The way I look at it," said Homily, "and it's only now it's come to me: if you had a son, you'd take him borrowing, now wouldn't you? Well, you haven't got no son—only Arrietty. Suppose anything happened to you or me, where would Arrietty be—if she hadn't learned to borrow?" (6.70-71)
Okay here's a question: are young boy characters treated differently than young girl characters in this novel? Is the boy somehow freer than Arrietty?
Quote #4
For the next three weeks Arrietty was especially "good": she helped her mother in the storeroom; she swept and watered the passages and trod them down; she sorted and graded the beads (which they used as buttons) into the screw tops of aspirin bottles. (7.1)
Here Arrietty is on her best behavior so that her father will take her borrowing. Now you might call that that being manipulative, but maybe she is just playing the game that children must play in order to gain power from her parents.
Quote #5
"Oh, no—" Arrietty began ("if I don't help," she thought, "he won't want me again") but Pod insisted. (7.40)
Once again, Arrietty is concerned with how her behavior will seem to adults, and whether or not that will affect her future freedom. After all, your behavior probably changes when you are around people your own age as opposed to adults.
Quote #6
"How does she know that boy ain't still here?"
"What boy?" asked Arrietty.
Pod looked embarrassed. "What boy?" He repeated vaguely and then went on: "or may be Crampfurl—"
"Crampfurl isn't a boy," said Arrietty.
"No, he isn't," said Pod, "not in a manner of speaking. No," he went on as though thinking this out, "no you wouldn't call Crampfurl a boy. Not, as you might say, a boy—exactly. Well," he said, beginning to move away, "stay down a bit if you like. But stay close!" (8.23-27)
Hmmmm. Something smells fishy. Pod seems to want to keep Arrietty away from the boy, but not for the typical reasons a father wants to keep his daughter away from boys. There's a bit more at stake in the borrowers' world.
Quote #7
"Maybe," said Pod, "but it's movable. See what I mean? There's rules, my lass, and you've got to learn." (8.6)
As a kid, Arrietty has a lot to learn about the rules of borrowing. But we can't help but think that she has a thing or two to teach her parents, too.
Quote #8
"Oh, Arrietty," wailed Homily suddenly, "you naughty wicked girl! How could you go and start all this? How could you go and talk to a human bean? If only—" (14.49)
Both Arrietty and the boy are called "wicked" by adults. That seems harsh, no? They're not wicked at all—just curious. But to some adults, there's not much difference between the two.
Quote #9
You're a wicked, black-hearted, fribbling little pickpocket. That's what you are. And so are they. (18.72)
Aren't adults supposed to be all reasonable and fair? Not Mrs. Driver apparently. She's just a big fat jerk and treats everyone pretty poorly—adults and kids alike.
Quote #10
The policeman turned out to be Nellie Runacre's son Ernie, a boy Mrs. Driver had chased many a time for stealing russet apples from the tree by the gate—"a nasty, thieving, good for nothing dribbet of a no-good," she told my brother. (19.25)
It seems as though Mrs. Driver is mean and nasty to all kids—not just the boy. But hey, at least she gets a taste of her own medicine at the end of the novel.