How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
I knew it was dangerous to get all dumb and sentimental. And yet all the same, right when I was about to sign up for my senior year classes, I tried to really celebrate Mom's birthday, instead of just giving her the money to get drunk, high, and laid, like I had the year before. This time, I told her, she was going to be just slightly spoiled. (2.3)
Karl kind of knows that his plans for his mom's birthday are going to turn out badly before they even get started. But, although he knows his mom is a walking disaster waiting to happen, he loves her enough to do it anyway. Would he have still taken her for pizza if he'd known it would land him in Gratz's class? Maybe not.
Quote #2
Okay, here's the worst part. I don't remember ever talking about it, but Squid knew about the rabbit. I could see that in his eyes. He never said a word, he just knew. But Squid forgave me. Really forgave me, I mean, all the way to trusting me and accepting me as his friend, and I would swear I didn't have a more loyal friend from then on. (4.64)
What about you? Would you be able to forgive a friend for—gosh, we don't even want to say it—hurting your pet? We'd say that Squid is able to forgive Karl because between going to his mom's funeral and standing up for him in therapy, Karl has more than proved his trustworthiness.
Quote #3
When I went back to the shed to return the spade and posthole digger, I picked up one of my "headstones"—a big plug of Readi-Mix poured into a plastic milk jug bottom. I carried it out, turned it over onto the grave, and with a Sharpie marker, I wrote, SUNFLOWER SHOEMAKER, 9/5/73, GOOD KITTY RIP on the plastic top. (7.59)
It probably won't come as a shock to you to hear that Karl doesn't exactly like his mom's cats. And yet, when one dies or gets mauled by a raccoon, he still faithfully buries it and marks its grave.
Quote #4
I went into her bedroom, grabbed the coverlet off the bed, and put it over her. I decided she'd be more comfortable without the boots and pulled those off her as well. She whimpered a little and snuggled into the coverlet. "I'm going to move the clock out here," I said, "and set it for eight thirty." (10.15)
Beth is about as useless as parents come, and yet instead of leaving her to suffer, Karl consistently tends to her—here, taking care of her as she passes out drunk. That's some serious compassion.
Quote #5
"Bethie's sorry, preciouses, Bethie is, please come out." O Mighty Couch, I Bring You the Broom of Righteousness, Yield Up Your Cats.
I guess if I was serious about my rule that you have to love any girl that cracks you up, I was stuck loving Mom. (13.72-73)
You're probably thinking that if you had to live with Karl's mom, you'd probably pull a Cruella De Vil and skin every single cat yourself and then make a coat out of the fur. We're sure this is how Karl feels, too, except that every once in a while, he makes these comments that show he really does love his mom. We do have to admit that she's funny. Extremely insane, yes, but funny.
Quote #6
"Do you hate your mom?"
"Sometimes. I try not to. I mean it's not like I can trade her in and get another one." I shrugged. "I guess I can feel sorry for her. She just wants people to like her and think she's cool. I guess I can't really hate her." (15.12-13)
Tales of the Madman Underground is all about Karl realizing that he doesn't need to be normal in order to be happy. Perhaps he says this because he recognizes that he can't fault his mom for wanting the same acceptance and normalcy that he does.
Quote #7
We'd each finished about half the cup when Browning said, "Karl, I saw you moving like you were going to kill that boy when he said those things about your mother."
"Well," I said, "she's my mom. And he's an asshole. Mom has a lot of problems. I'm not saying she doesn't, she's a mess, but she's my mom." (21.30-31)
We've already talked about the Madmen's crazy loyalty to their families, no matter how bad the circumstances are, but Karl proves himself to be just like them when he defends his mom even though she's really indefensible. What it comes down to is that he can't stand people talking smack about his mom, even if what they say about her is true.
Quote #8
There was a presentation Don gave once at the AA meeting about life decisions. He said to imagine all the bad parts, and then ask if you'd pay that much, have all the bad parts on purpose, to have the good parts.
How many times would I wash my sheets while dead exhausted, to have this big hairy idiot purring and loving me? (23.29-30)
No matter how badly Karl wants to lose his virginity to Darla—and believe us, he wants it pretty bad—his compassion for Hairball ultimately overcomes his teenage hormonal rush. His realization that he doesn't want to kill his cat is kind of a big part of his character arc; instead of seeing only the bad parts of the situation, he sees the good that isn't a bad trade-off for it.
Quote #9
In the backyard, all five of the glazed and primed storm windows were lying in the wet grass, some of their shattered panes knocked all the way out, littering the yard with hundreds of bright glints in the sun.
"You like to be barefoot out here," I said. "This is really stupid." (23.105-106)
So, we just watched Karl (with assistance from Wonderful Bill) re-glaze all of those stupid windows only hours before, only to have Beth smash them all in a fit of whatever. Karl would be totally justified in snapping at her over this, but all he says is that she likes to go barefoot and now she can't. While he could have freaked out on her, he shows mercy on her instead.
Quote #10
I turned over the Madmen in my mind; it was the old, old problem, would Squid be better off without the kids who depended on him? If people knew the truth about what Mr. Knauss did in his rages, and Paul and Kimmie were fostered out somewhere, taken away from the town where they at least had some friends and support … did I want to have that kind of power over my friends' lives? Hadn't I always had it anyway? (26.94)
Hang on, Shmoopers. This is probably the hairiest quote in this whole section because it really messes with our definition of compassion. The question Karl and the rest of his friends deal with is what the more loving act would be—to tell someone what's going on in each other's houses, or to let things go on the way they are. This, though, is the first time Karl starts to rethink his answer to this question.