How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #4
There are no dirty words any more, they've been neutered, now they're only parts of speech; but I recall the feeling, puzzled, baffled, when I found out some words were dirty and the rest were clean. The bad ones in French are the religious ones, the worst ones in any language were what they were most afraid of and in English it was the body, that was even scarier than God. You could also say Jesus Christ, but it meant you were angry or disgusted. I learned about religion the way most children then learned about sex, not in the gutter but in the gravel and cement schoolyard, during the winter months of real school. (5.23)
Here, the narrator offers some interesting musings at the origins of curse words in English and French, and how they're related to religious fervor. According to her, among secular English-speakers, the body is the scariest thing, whereas it's religion among French-speaking Quebecois Catholics.
Quote #5
When I started school myself I begged to be allowed to go to Sunday School, like everyone else; I wanted to find out, also I wanted to be less conspicuous. My father didn't approve, he reacted as though I'd asked to go to a pool hall. Christianity was something he'd escaped from, he wished to protect us from its distortions. But after a couple of years he decided I was old enough, I could see for myself, reason would defend me. (6.13)
The narrator gives us some more background into her fascination with Christianity. Her father, for whom irrationality seemed to be the biggest no-no around, believed the narrator would need "reason" to "defend" herself against religion's influence.
Quote #6
"Maybe I'll be a Catholic," I said to my brother; I was afraid to say it to my parents. "Catholics are crazy," he said. The Catholics went to a school down the street from ours and the boys threw snowballs at them in winter and rocks in spring and fall. "They believe in the B.V.M." I didn't know what that was and neither did he, so he said "They believe if you don't go to Mass you'll turn into a wolf." "Will you?" I said. "We don't go," he said, "and we haven't." (6.18-22)
Taking things even further than their father, the narrator's brother suggests that Catholics believe that people turn into wolves if they don't go to mass. In addition to emphasizing the family's general belief that Catholicism=irrationality, the moment is a nice bit of foreshadowing, since the narrator does kind of turn into a wolf (or some other kind of critter) at the end—in any case, she tries to live more like an animal and makes a lair. Sounds pretty wolf-like, if you ask us…