50 pages • 1 hour read
A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
“At soccer practice, I worried that I would miss the ball, when we boarded the bus for games at other schools, I worried that I would take a seat by someone who didn’t want to sit next to me, in class I worried I would say a wrong or foolish thing. I worried that I took too much food at meals […]. I always worried someone would notice me, and then when no one did, I felt lonely.”
Lee uses repetition to highlight her concern over how she appears at Ault. By repeating “I worried” multiple times, Lee conveys the agony of building a self at Ault. Lacking a stable persona, she doesn’t want people to pay attention to her. Conversely, she doesn’t want to feel isolated.
“Most people here, they’re not real. But you’re real.”
Little Washington’s perception of Lee is ironic. Lee doesn’t want a “real” self but an identity that adheres to the constructed Ault world. Nevertheless, Little juxtaposes Lee with the other students to create a conflict between the two. Like Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye, Little openly scorns Ault and its students, and she even echoes his diction, as Holden constantly refers to people as “phonies.”
“It’s like my friends and I are targets. We’re being discriminated against.”
Dede’s response to the thefts satirizes prejudice discourse, as her diction turns her and Aspeth—both affluent white girls—into “targets” and victims of discrimination. Arguably, they are targets, not because they come from a historically marginalized group but because they come from privilege. The twist is ironic.
“I was constantly amazed at the ridiculous topics raised by other people, especially by other girls, and I was equally amazed by the enthusiastic responses their ridiculousness elicited.”
Lee uses repetition to expose the “ridiculous” conversations that occur at Ault, and the discourse reinforces Ault as a symbol for an alternate universe. What seems absurd to an outsider like Lee becomes sensible for students who fit in better. The quote is also ironic. In Chapter 7, as Aubrey tries to help Lee understand math, all she can think about is the Ault social drama.
“It struck me, even at that moment, as modest of him to introduce himself. Of course I knew his name.”
Ault is a word unto itself with its own celebrities, like Cross. The diction reveals Cross’s star power. He doesn’t need to “introduce himself”: He’s Ault famous, and everyone knows who he is.
“I thought my life would be more interesting if I went to Ault.”
Lee tells Cross why she wanted to go to Ault, and her reason reinforces critiques of prep schools and wealth. Lee’s motivation isn’t a quality education but to be “interesting.” It’s as if being around affluence and wealth automatically makes a person captivating.
“At Ault, there was so much I didn’t know. Most of it had to do with money (what a debutante was, how you pronounced Greenwich, Connecticut) or with sex (that a pearl necklace wasn’t always a piece of jewelry).”
Money becomes visible in multiple ways, including diction. Lee shows her lack of money because she doesn’t know what “debutante” means or how to pronounce “Greenwich.” Sex symbolizes validation, and Lee reveals her outsider status through her unfamiliarity with a “a pearl necklace.”
“Why are you so righteous? It’s a game.
Lee excels at Assassin, but her competence doesn’t earn validation. She first kills Devin Billinger—a boy of no importance to her—and his response suggests Lee cares too much about Assassin. Her outsized competitiveness marks her as different.
“You don’t have an identity, so you define yourself by who you spend time with, and you get nervous that you’re spending time with the wrong people.”
Conchita exposes how Lee wants to construct an identity at Ault through other people. Her identity depends on who she hangs out with. At times, Lee presents Martha as the “wrong” person to be with. She, too, isn’t “cool.”
“People genuinely liked him, and on top of that they liked the fact that they genuinely liked a big black guy from the Bronx.”
Lee continues to satirize diversity and progressive values. People like Darden as a human, but they also like themselves for liking a Black person. They turn Darden into a symbol of their supposed enlightened, progressive outlook.
“I rolled my eyes. ‘That would be a really good use of my Ault education.’”
After Lee cuts Tullis’s hair, Tullis tells her she could open salons across the country. Lee’s tone—the attitude behind her response—showcases her wit. It’s also ironic, as Lee isn’t making “good use” of her education.
“We made a mistake. How about we leave it at that?”
Darden’s response to Ms. Moray’s reaction reveals the lack of thoughtful dialogue about race and diversity at Ault. Darden cuts off Ms. Moray because of her polarizing comments. In Darden’s, it wasn’t racism but something less hyperbolic—a “mistake.”
“Though I personally did not always get what I wanted, I still was part of Ault’s universe of privilege; I spoke its language now, I knew its secret handshake.”
Ault continues to represent a different universe, and, in her junior year, Lee feels like she’s now a part of the Ault world. Lee is an unreliable narrator, and she quickly subverts her statement through her treatment of her parents at parents’ weekend. If Lee felt she had firm place at Ault, her parents shouldn’t threaten her.
“She once told me she had never even heard her mother burp.”
The “she” is Martha, and Lee juxtaposes affluent etiquette with the bawdier behavior of her family. The image of Martha never hearing her mom burp contrasts with the image of Lee’s family talking about a number of scatological topics. It also conflicts with Lee’s image of her mother farting while she pees.
“‘What a ratfuck, huh?’ They roared with laughter.”
Lee’s dad, Terry, demonstrates his class status and appeal through diction—risqué terms like “ratfuck.” The “they” are Maria and Rufina, and their reaction exposes Lee’s unreliability. Her parents aren’t a threat but an asset because her friends like them.
“Clara was bawling as openly and recklessly as an infant: Her face was a splotchy pink, and tears were streaming down her face; her nose was dripping; her mouth was open.”
Lee provides an extensive, detailed image of Clara to highlight her dramatic reaction to Sin-Jun’s suicide attempt. Instead of a concerned friend/secret lover, Clara becomes a grotesque caricature. The cartoonish atmosphere adds humor to the serious situation.
“I actually liked the desolation of winter; it was the season when it was okay to be unhappy. If I were ever to kill myself, I thought, it would be in the summer.”
Lee continues to bring levity to Sin-Jun’s situation through her ironic diction. There’s a twist: She likes the melancholy of winter; instead, she’d kill herself during the summer. Lee turns suicide into an event—a performance that a person schedules.
“Who’d have guessed? Even with Clara involved, it turned out, sex was sexy.”
Though Lee subjects Clara to fatphobia, she subverts her problematic remarks by admitting that watching her and Sin-Jun engage in sexual activity is “sexy.” Lee uses diction—“Who’d have guessed?”—to keep the scene light-hearted, and she repeats “sex” in case the reader has any doubt about what’s happening.
“[T]he senior prefects led the disciplinary committee, and after graduation their names were engraved on white marble panels that hung in the dining hall.”
The image of the prefects’ names engraved on the marble panels reflects the separate universe of Ault. Whatever happens to them after Ault, they’ll remain memorialized and a part of the Ault universe. In the world of Ault, they’ll be important people forever.
“Don’t use the word bitch, I thought—that would be going too far. ‘She’s just—’ I paused. ‘Basically, she’s a bitch.’”
Curtis Sittenfeld pairs Lee’s interior voice and its stream-of-consciousness narration with dialogue, and the juxtaposition creates a funny moment. Lee tells herself not to use the word “bitch,” but she tells Dede that Aspeth is a “bitch.” She shows backbone and sticks up for her friend.
“What things would I think about if I were not an Ault student?”
The threat of expulsion (“spring-cleaning”) reveals how Ault is its own universe and the focal point of Lee’s identity. If she’s not at Ault, she’s not an Ault student—she has no identity. She also doesn’t have any thoughts. The quote shows how Ault consumes Lee—she’s infatuated with the place.
“Cross Sugarman came back to me in the fifth week of our senior year.”
As a girl, Lee feels like she has to be passive. She can’t explicitly pursue Cross but has to wait for him to seek her out. Lee presents the reunion as fate, but ironically, the relationship brings Lee further pain.
“[I]t affected the place in the social order where I saw myself; now my regular behavior felt gracious and charming. I could have let Cross’s interest in me go to my head, but look—I was as humble as ever.”
Cross validates Lee’s position at Ault. As an Ault celebrity, her connection to him boosts her place in the social order. The diction is ironic. Lee claims to be “humble,” but her extensive focus on Cross suggests otherwise. He arrests her mind: He has gotten into her head.
“‘Why do you think so few white students receive financial aid?’ ‘We don’t add diversity to the school.’”
The dialogue between Lee and The New York Times reporter continues to complicate the idea of diversity. Lee makes diversity seem like something that only has to do with skin color. Yet perhaps there are other ways to add diversity, like through socioeconomic class.
“Even Devin will say kike this or Jew you down or whatever. And I don’t say anything, because what would getting pissed off achieve? He’s just talking.”
In the gym, Cross tells Lee that she can choose how much she wants to play people’s differences, and he provides the example of his roommate, Devin. Devin says anti-Semitic things, but unlike Ms. Moray, Cross doesn’t turn them into abuse. Cross’s idea links to Conflict is Not Abuse (Arsenal Pulp Press, 2016) by the social critic and novelist Sarah Schulman, who argues that people tend to overstate harm. Cross doesn’t exaggerate Devin’s harm: He’s not a threat.
Plus, gain access to 9,150+ more expert-written Study Guides.
Including features:
By Curtis Sittenfeld