52 pages • 1 hour read
Matthew QuickA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Amidst feelings of depression and suicidal thoughts, Leonard writes himself letters from the future. Herr Silverman says, “Write the letters from the future, Leonard. Those people want to meet you. Your life is going to get so much better. I promise you that. Just hold on as best you can—and believe in the future” (122). This hope helps carry Leonard through his darkest moments and propels him toward fulfillment.
At the novel’s opening, Leonard’s circumstances tell him that he is alone and doomed to live a miserable life. As Leonard gives gifts to Walt, Baback, Herr Silverman, and Lauren, he wishes these allies would come to his rescue. He searches for reasons to, as he writes to himself in the letters, “Hold on” (77). During his final day on earth, Leonard looks one last time for signs of hope.
For years, Leonard has also looked for hope as he followed commuters to Philadelphia. He wonders why people with so much opportunity for joy experience so little of it. He tells the woman who cries on the train, “I want to believe that happiness might at least be possible later on in life for people prone to sadness” (55). Teenaged Leonard already feels the intense pain of past trauma and prolonged isolation. He assumes that once he reaches adulthood, that pain will only multiply through the drudgery that awaits.
As Herr Silverman predicts, Leonard’s letters reveal his latent hope. He imagines a future in which he is no corporate drone or unhappy family man; rather, he lives a life full of love, intimacy, and discovery. The discrepancy between Leonard’s bleak present and the bright future he desires floods him with shame and defeat. He believes that loneliness and inner scars make him worthless, unlovable, and incapable of happiness.
His letters, on the other hand, prove that he wants desperately to love and learn about the world with people he trusts. Herr Silverman repeats to Leonard that the people he imagined in his future are stand-ins for his future friends and family. To meet them, Leonard must choose life, working to maintain hope amidst life’s formidable, inevitable difficulties.
Herr Silverman reveals that, as a struggling high school student, he too wrote himself letters from the future. He tells Leonard, “Writing those letters helped me figure out who I was and what I wanted” (217). Because Herr Silverman survived his difficult adolescence, he has confidence that Leonard can as well. He believes what Leonard does not: that Leonard is worthy of living long enough to see his dreams become reality.
Leonard’s final letter from the future shows a middle-aged version of himself who has raised a daughter with a degree of care he never received. His fictional daughter also chooses a new adventure in a city she has never visited. Leonard’s letter and the vibrant, 18-year-old woman it depicts signify that he is starting to believe in life—and in himself—again.
As his birthday begins, Leonard alternates between eagerness and reluctance about killing Asher Beal and himself. His thoughts and behaviors communicate hidden distress, although he withholds important elements of his backstory from the reader. Readers might find the reading experience difficult for its unrelenting look into Leonard’s mindset, but Quick chose first-person narration for a purpose. Only through viewing Leonard’s interiority up-close can readers empathize with the character and others like him.
Both Leonard’s narration and background indicate severe, unaddressed inner pain. He spends most of his time alone, often reports feelings of depression, and has lost value for his life. His father, who experienced alcoholism, financial instability, and drug addiction, has disappeared. Linda refuses to address her son’s mental health, even after Leonard spends silent, depressed days in bed:
I heard her talking on the phone to her French boyfriend and she actually said, ‘I won’t let some therapist blame me for Leo’s problems.’ And that’s when I really knew I was on my own—that I couldn’t count on Linda to save me (59).
Leonard wants to depend on his parent, but Linda repeatedly falls short of giving him care and attention, even in his darkest moments.
Leonard wants someone to know he is hurting but can’t find a direct way to communicate it. Several characters sense Leonard’s covert message on his 18th birthday. Walt acts concerned when Leonard gives him the Bogart hat. His English teacher confronts Leonard for his hostile demeanor and reports him to the guidance counselor. Herr Silverman studies Leonard and says, “Sudden changes in appearance. You did cut your hair, right? […] Giving away treasured possessions. These are clear signs. Suicidal people often do these things. I’m worried you might be at risk” (117). Leonard might know he needs help, but he cannot yet acknowledge the depth of his need or trust anyone with his painful secrets.
Desiring justice, Leonard seeks revenge on Asher for sexually abusing him and wants to prevent Asher from abusing others. When he prepares to shoot his former friend, Leonard thinks:
We just never got around to taking another daylong ride, maybe because of what Asher’s uncle started, and that seems so so fucking sad right now, such a missed opportunity, that my eyes get all watery and my vision blurs (194).
Leonard’s murderous fury dissolves into sorrow, showing readers that he is not only angry but also hurt, confused, and traumatized. Although Asher did him great harm, Asher too endured terrible abuse. Leonard’s grief and empathy reveal that the murder he planned will not repair the past.
Herr Silverman provides Leonard with what no one else will: compassion and a listening ear. For the first time, Leonard feels safe enough to divulge the entirety of his and Asher’s history to someone. Herr Silverman recommends that as a survivor of sexual abuse who made plans for murder and suicide, Leonard receive therapy for help. Recovering from abuse and other traumas takes time and work, and one cathartic conversation with his favorite teacher is just the start of Leonard’s healing. He must, as Herr Silverman says, “Not [let] the world destroy you. That’s a daily battle” (227). Although the story ends the day after his birthday, Leonard ends the novel with a more peaceful, hope-filled mindset than before and dares to imagine that his life can get better.
Leonard values being different. He gazes in contempt at his classmates, school administrators, commuters, and almost everyone around him, deeming them “übermorons” (109). He approves only of outsiders like himself: Walt, Baback, Herr Silverman, and Lauren. Leonard prides himself in appreciating these invisible people. Walt, though an elderly shut-in, has humor and charm; the bullied Baback is a musical prodigy; students misunderstand Herr Silverman’s kindness and integrity; and commuters ignore Lauren’s compassion. Herr Silverman tells Leonard, “Different is good. But different is hard” (121). Leonard pays a price for his individuality, but his true self has worth far beyond what he perceives.
When Leonard gives Asher a piece of paper inscribed with a question mark for Asher’s birthday, their peers criticize the odd gift. In a footnote, Leonard remarks, “I was already weird back then, and people were starting to notice more and more” (124). Once Asher sexually abused Leonard, the protagonist felt unfixable and isolated from others. Leonard explains that after his relationship with Asher ended, “I became a freak, while Asher somehow went on to become popular and well-adjusted and what most people would call normal, at least on the outside” (189). Despite his cruelty toward his former friend, Asher sails through high school, while Leonard barely has a social life and struggles to maintain his mental health in isolation.
Now Leonard believes that his intended murder and suicide will set him apart and give him significance, even in death. He thinks often about people viewing his crime on the news and how history will remember his actions. After Leonard tells Herr Silverman the content of his letters from the future, Herr Silverman asks, “You ever feel like you’re sending out a light but no one sees it?” (218). Leonard attempts to get people’s attention, often through unusual means, but he desires connections with others on the fringes. Herr Silverman senses this because, as a gay man, he too is different. He empathizes with Leonard’s isolation and lost sense of self, which Herr Silverman also experienced as a teenager. In Herr Silverman, Leonard has a valuable role model for letting his true self shine in an often hostile, indifferent world.
In addition to his vengeful agenda and pained inner life, Leonard’s narration reveals a brilliant intellect, compassion, appreciation of the arts, bravery, humor, and creativity. He doesn’t yet recognize these attributes for the gifts they are. Instead, he alternately lords his intelligence over others and feels ashamed about his lack of belonging. The lighthouse that appears throughout his letters symbolizes Leonard’s luminous, authentic self. Leonard, writing as his fictional daughter, urges himself to “man the great light. Even when no one is looking” (273). After his brush with murder and suicide, Leonard learns to cultivate the unique goodness inside himself and keep hoping for like-minded people to join him on his life’s journey.
By Matthew Quick
Diverse Voices (High School)
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Friendship
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Good & Evil
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Mental Illness
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National Suicide Prevention Month
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Realism
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Realistic Fiction (High School)
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Sexual Harassment & Violence
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The Future
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