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"Yet each man kills the thing he loves..."
Oscar Wilde's prison poem came to mind not only for its literal truth in the context of Lenny and George, but also because it evokes the brutal isolation of the whole cast of characters, each one of them stuck in their separate reality and unable to connect with each other. The young lonely wife has nobody to confide in, and keeps looking for trouble out of sheer isolation. The black man is so utterly alone that he is almost insane, and the barrier of his skin colour is even more impenetrable than the woman's gender. George's loneliness is connected to his responsibility for Lenny, and Lenny himself is in the brutal prison of his intellectual inferiority and herculean strength. Even the boss' son is in a no man's land between privilege and torture.
The dream of sharing a future together keeps the men's spirits alive for a while, and it is contagious. Breaking out of the isolation, enjoying freedom and partnership - those are powerful ideas.
"Yet each man kills the thing he loves..."
The domino effect of Lenny's inability to control his strength or his craving for softness and love makes all dreamers wake up to a nightmare without end. The only solace is finding another human being who understands enough of the pain of killing what one loves to offer a sign of support or friendship in the misery of reality.
Lenny broke my heart, and yet I had to smile at his limited vision over and over again. When I first read this novel, I was a busy teenager, bored and frustrated that school picked my reading materials for me, not willing to enter into the confused minds of men with whom I had seemingly nothing in common. With hindsight, I see myself in a cloud of ignorance, not fully grasping what happened around me, missing a masterpiece in the process - I was very much like Lenny myself, unaware of the bigger picture of what was going on around me. Reading Of Mice and Men now, to prepare a teaching unit for a new generation of fifteen-year-olds, I find myself more in the role of George, gently coaxing, carefully repeating the information I consider crucial, avoiding too much detail out of fear to completely lose the attention of my students. Lenny and George live a life of their own in my head now, and they have transcended their bitter story and become part of mine.
Just what one expects of a great classic!
Oscar Wilde's prison poem came to mind not only for its literal truth in the context of Lenny and George, but also because it evokes the brutal isolation of the whole cast of characters, each one of them stuck in their separate reality and unable to connect with each other. The young lonely wife has nobody to confide in, and keeps looking for trouble out of sheer isolation. The black man is so utterly alone that he is almost insane, and the barrier of his skin colour is even more impenetrable than the woman's gender. George's loneliness is connected to his responsibility for Lenny, and Lenny himself is in the brutal prison of his intellectual inferiority and herculean strength. Even the boss' son is in a no man's land between privilege and torture.
The dream of sharing a future together keeps the men's spirits alive for a while, and it is contagious. Breaking out of the isolation, enjoying freedom and partnership - those are powerful ideas.
"Yet each man kills the thing he loves..."
The domino effect of Lenny's inability to control his strength or his craving for softness and love makes all dreamers wake up to a nightmare without end. The only solace is finding another human being who understands enough of the pain of killing what one loves to offer a sign of support or friendship in the misery of reality.
Lenny broke my heart, and yet I had to smile at his limited vision over and over again. When I first read this novel, I was a busy teenager, bored and frustrated that school picked my reading materials for me, not willing to enter into the confused minds of men with whom I had seemingly nothing in common. With hindsight, I see myself in a cloud of ignorance, not fully grasping what happened around me, missing a masterpiece in the process - I was very much like Lenny myself, unaware of the bigger picture of what was going on around me. Reading Of Mice and Men now, to prepare a teaching unit for a new generation of fifteen-year-olds, I find myself more in the role of George, gently coaxing, carefully repeating the information I consider crucial, avoiding too much detail out of fear to completely lose the attention of my students. Lenny and George live a life of their own in my head now, and they have transcended their bitter story and become part of mine.
Just what one expects of a great classic!
