How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
Gram has believed for most of my seventeen years that this particular houseplant, which is of the nondescript variety, reflects my emotional, spiritual, and physical well-being. I've grown to believe it too. (1.2)
Can you imagine looking at a sick plant and thinking it means something's wrong with you? Welcome to Lennie's world. It's slightly different from our own, and this paragraph clues readers into that difference. Notice that the plant that represents Lennie is simply described as "nondescript." A reflection on how Lennie sees herself? More on this over in the "Symbols" section, Shmoopers.
Quote #2
Each morning, when I woke,
I listened for the tireless pounding,
Looked at the drear through the window
And was relieved
That at least the sun had the decency
To stay the hell away from us. (2.47)
Remember how we said that the outside world often reflects how Lennie is feeling? The days of rain that follow Bailey's death are definitely one of those cases. Lennie's relieved that the rain reflects her suffering, but it can't last forever—later, the nice weather makes Lennie feel more alone.
Quote #3
"That garden is wild, never seen flowers like that, though some of those roses might chop off my head and put me in a vase." He shakes his head in amazement and his hair falls too adorably in his eyes. "It's like Eden or something." (9.39)
Joe talks about Gram's plants as if they're alive. Well, yes, they are alive, but we mean he acts like they have human-like agency. This adds some more evidence to the theory that Lennie's houseplant actually represents her. And yes, by Eden, Joe means the Garden of Eden, where the first biblical humans were tempted. Someone has a crush.
Quote #4
We walk in silence through the woods and it snaps me back to my senses. The stars and moon are mostly hidden over the thick tree cover, and I feel like I'm swimming through darkness, my body breaking the air as if it were water. (10.44)
How do you think Lennie's feeling in this moment? She can't see the sky, and she feels as if the air has mass that she has to push through. Remember, during this stroll, she's thinking a lot about Bailey.
Quote #5
I look into his sorrowless eyes and a door in my heart blows open.
And when we kiss, I see that the other side of that door is the sky. (15.27-28)
Before looking at Joe opens Lennie's metaphorical door, what is the door in Lennie's heart blocking out? What is it keeping in?
Quote #6
I make her tell me everything about her night with Luke so I don't have to think about Toby's text, what might be so urgent. Then we climb up to the falls and get under them, screaming F*** over and over into the roar like we've done since we were little.
I scream bloody murder. (20.52-53)
We don't even need to ask you how Lennie's feeling in this scene. The cursing kind of gives it away. We're glad she has the falls, though—screaming into them sounds pretty therapeutic.
Quote #7
"Gram goes," he says. "She planted a few rosebushes, a bunch of other flowers too. The grounds people told her she had to get rid of them, but every time they pulled out her plants, she just replanted more. They finally gave up." (34.29)
See, this makes us respect Gram. Instead of fighting with the groundskeepers, she just kept doggedly replanting, because giving Bailey flowers was that important to her. It takes an amazing amount of patience to keep replanting things that other people dig up—probably the same patience that makes Gram the best gardener in Clover.
Quote #8
Without thinking, I veer onto the trail to the forest bedroom. All around me, the woods are in an uproar of beauty. Sunlight cascades through the trees, making the fern-covered floor look jeweled and incandescent. Rhododendron bushes sweep past me right and left like women in fabulous dresses. I want to wrap my arms around all of it. (35.17)
This is the scene where Lennie is going to write a poem for Joe about how much she loves him. Makes sense from the language, doesn't it? She loves the greenery around her so much that she has to restrain herself from hugging it.
Quote #9
I walk the footpath that winds through the graves listening to the rush of the falls, remembering how important it was for me, despite all reason, that Bailey's grave be where she could see and hear and even smell the river. (38.17)
Lennie knew Bailey's body didn't have consciousness, but still wanted her to be buried near nature. Maybe this was a way for her feel less powerless, to give Bailey something—whether or not her spirit received the gift.
Quote #10
When I hit the trailhead, I start running. The sun is breaking through the canopy in isolated blocks, so I fly through light and dark and dark and light, through the blazing unapologetic sunlight, into the ghostliest loneliest shade, and back again, back and forth, from one to the next, and through the places where it all blends together into a leafy-lit emerald dream. (38.16)
If you've been paying attention, you're probably guessing that this passage is about more than scenery—Lennie's description doesn't reflect just one mood, but every kind of mood. It has light parts and dark parts and places where light and dark blend together, just like life. You could say she's heading into life itself.