How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
Blount paid no attention to anyone in the palace except the mute. They were both looking at each other. The mute's eyes were cold and gentle as a cat's and all his body seemed to listen. The drunk man was in a frenzy.
"You're the only one in this town who catches what I mean." (1.2.76-77)
Blount appreciates the fact that Singer is listening with his whole body (which is something he does an awful lot, and Mick, too). The problem is, for all this intent listening he's doing, there's not much understanding happening. In this scene, neither Biff, nor Jake (who thinks Singer can hear him), nor Singer knows what's going on.
Quote #2
Sometimes it was fun to devil Portia. She started on the same tune and said the same thing over and over – like that was all she knew. (1.3.117)
The idea of being on the same tune is a figure of speech, and it's a fitting one for Mick's story, which is all about music. It's telling, too, that music is another form of communication or expression. Mick, more than anyone else, seems to understand the way that music speaks to people. After all, it speaks to her.
Quote #3
It was good to talk. The sound of his voice gave him pleasure. The tones seemed to echo and hang on the air so that each word sounded twice. [...] He suddenly wanted to return to the mute's quiet room and tell him of the thoughts that were in his mind. (1.4.95)
An interesting shift happens to Jake here. At first he focuses on the sound of his voice and the physical act of speaking, but then he has the urge to share what he's saying and focuses more on communicating with another person. He goes from being in love with how he's saying things to focusing on what's he's saying, and those are two very different things.
Quote #4
Tonight he read Spinoza. He did not wholly understand the intricate play of ideas and the complex phrases, but as he read he sensed a strong, true purpose behind the words and he felt that he almost understood. (1.5.1)
Like Jake, Copeland also finds the physical act of speaking and the powerful impact of words fascinating. Copeland doesn't understand the meaning of the words here, but the sense he gets from them is still important. It's a lot like the sense Mick gets from music. But is there any meaning being communicated here? How can meaning come across if the reader or listener doesn't understand the words?
Quote #5
"It don't take words to make a quarrel," Portia said. (1.5.41)
Wise words, Portia. Seriously, maybe she should be writing for Shmoop. People do a lot of things without words in this book, not just quarreling. In fact, half the "action" in the book is completely internal and doesn't involve communicating with words at all.
Quote #6
The words came before Doctor Copeland knew what he would say. "I mean that to you and Hamilton and Karl Marx I gave all that was in me. [...] and I all get is blank misunderstanding and idleness and indifference. (1.5.150)
Is there anything sadder than putting your heart and soul into expressing yourself and then finding only "blank misunderstanding and idleness and indifference"? Here Copeland shows us just how frustrating communication (or attempting to communicate) can be. But we have to take his words with a grain of salt, too. He's scolding his son for keeping silent, but Copeland is often silent himself. Of course his silence is often a means of control, rather than a sign of indifference.
Quote #7
Singer never knew just how much his friend understood of all the things he told him. But it did not matter. (1.1.5)
Oh Singer. You have a way of asking the big questions without really asking them. Can the act of communicating be meaningful even if the other person doesn't understand you?
Quote #8
He tried to say something – but he had not called to tell her anything special. He only wanted to talk with her or a little while. He started to speak and swallowed. They just looked at each other. The quietness grew out longer and neither of them could say a word. (2.1.15)
Don't you just hate awkward silences? Even McCullers is feeling it, what with all these short sentences and pauses in her writing. These two just can't seem to get their words out, but they're not quite sure what to say.
Quote #9
The words rose inchoately to his throat and he could not speak them. They would listen to the old man. Yet to words of reason they would not attend. These are my people, he tried to tell himself – but because he was dumb this thought did not help him now. (2.3.93)
SAT word alert! Inchoately means newly or barely formed. Unfinished. Can you relate to how Copeland is feeling here? He knows he has something reasonable and right to say, but he's not quite sure what. Inchoate, indeed.
Quote #10
All the while she remembered the words she had said to Bubber. About Baby being dead and Sing Sing and Warden Lawe. About the small electric chairs that were just his size, and Hell. In the dark the words had sounded terrible. (2.5.144)
Yep, Mick, words sure can pack a punch. Our girl learns a tough lesson here: that our words can have consequences far beyond our intentions, and in this case, Mick realizes she may have put her brother in danger when really all she wanted to do was teach him a lesson.
Quote #11
His hands were a torment to him. They would not rest. They twitched in his sleep, and sometimes he awoke to find them shaping the words in his dreams before his face. He did not like to look at his hands or to think about them. (2.7.27)
We've all felt the torment of longing to speak and not being able to, but imagine being physically unable to speak. That has got to be tough. Singer faces a unique difficulty in the novel in that he has to rely on his hands to communicate, but the problem is, not everyone speaks sign language. So the people with whom he can truly communicate are few and far between.
Quote #12
Portia spoke in a low voice, and she neither paused between words nor did the grief in her face soften. It was like a low song. She spoke and he could not understand. The sounds were distinct in his ear but they had no shape or meaning. It was as though his head were the prow of a boat and the sounds were water that broke on him and then flowed past. (2.10.24)
Copeland seems to be focusing more on the sound of Portia's voice here, and not what she's saying. Frankly, this happens quite a bit in this book, but never quite as beautifully as in this passage.
Quote #13
Her eyes looked slowly around her – at the streaked red-and-white clay of the ditch, at a broken whiskey bottle, at a pine tree across from them with a sign advertising for a man for county sheriff. She wanted to sit quiet for a long time and not think and not say a word. (2.11.119)
In this passage, Mick wants to erase communication altogether. Not only does she not want to speak – she doesn't even want to think. Of course we're sure her mind is reeling after her experience with Harry, but making those thoughts coherent probably seems impossible.