History of Wolves

by Emily Fridlund

“Gimme a break.” By their nature, it came to me, children were freaks. They believed impossible things to suit themselves, thought their fantasies were the center of the world. They were the best kinds of quacks, if that’s what you wanted—pretenders who didn’t know they were pretending at all. That’s what I was thinking as I pedaled Paul home. Rain made the breaks squeal beneath us, made the bike tires drone. “Gimme a break!” Paul said. By their nature, kids were also parrots.

Aha, a bit of foreshadowing here in this passage. Oh, and just a minor editing error: “Rain made the brakes squeal...” not “breaks.”

I’ve found that some people who’ve done something bad will just go ahead and condemn everyone else around them to avoid feeling shitty themselves. As if that even works. Other types of people, and I’m not saying you’re this, necessarily, but I’m just putting it out there, will defend people like me on principle because when their turns come around, they want that so badly for themselves.

in this passage, which is an excerpt from a letter from the teacher, Mr. Grierson, it becomes evident that Madeline/Linda is identifying with him. They are both as guilty as each other, with one major difference. He has thoughts he mustn’t act on, and she has thoughts she should have acted on. They are both guilty for the things they didn’t do. In other words, it’s not what he does, it’s what he thinks. It’s not what she thinks, it’s what she does (or doesn’t do).

and I never told her what I really thought about Christian Science, which is that from what I know, from what little I know, it offers one of the best accounts of the origin of human evil. This is where it comes from, Ann. I think, now: That’s the story I’m trying to tell here.

It’s not what you do but what you think that matters.

A reference to Christian Science, but also the defensive stance of Madeline/Linda as she examines the repercussions of what happened.