Forever…not
The whole design of the novel goes to the point of revealing the psychological immaturity of those who are biologically mature enough to reproduce. Sexual maturity comes on like a tidal wave whereas the intellectual and psychological maturity to deal with is like a high tide slowly rolling in. Katherine is shown to be maturing over the course of the novel in terms of what her understanding of “forever” really means, but there is one striking passage of pure dialogue so focused on this topic that is elemental to the novel that it serves to become an early example of imagery:
"I'm seeing someone I met last night," I told her, "and the truth is, I don't know how I'm going to live through this week."
"You mean you're in love again?"
"I have never been in love."
"What about Tommy Aronson?"
"That wasn't love … that was childish infatuation."
"You said it was love … I remember."
"Well, I didn't know anything then."
"Oh."
"Some day you'll understand."
Sexually Active
A great deal of imagery is directed toward revealing the extent to which teens are sexually active. This has been the source of much of the controversy which resulted in multiple attempts to ban the book. The primary characteristic of this imagery is its prevalence across the narrative. It works in a collective sense to imprint the idea that while more teens are sexually active than parents might think, this is not a confirmation of the more extreme views:
“I do know where people go to park. There's a dark, dead-end street not far from where I live and there is also the golf course and the hill. Erica lives on the hill. She's always finding used rubbers in the street. I can't understand how someone could just throw a thing like that out a car window and forget about it.”
The Power of the Mundane
Another part of the controversy that surrounded the book upon its initial appearance is that Katherine does become sexually active, but is not presented as a “bad girl.” Even as late as the mid-70’s—even after the countercultural revolution of the 1960’s had fundamentally altered views toward sexuality—the trope of “good girls don’t” still hung heavy in the air. Katherine is not only not a “bad girl” but she isn’t even an especially “good girl.” It is this portrayal of Katherine as simply average and typical that seems to be the worst of all possible things to the book’s many critics:
“My mother's name is Diana—Diana Danziger. It sounds like she should be a movie star or something. Actually, she's a librarian, in charge of the children's room at the public library. Mom is naturally thin, so she can eat four cupcakes at one sitting or polish off as much beer as she wants. We are exactly the same size—five-feet-six and 109 pounds—but she is sort of flat chested and never wears a bra. While I was cutting my toenails my sister, Jamie, came into my room, holding up a pair of jeans.”
Artie
Artie is an example of characterization as imagery. The sexually conflicted Artie also serves as evidence that the story really isn’t about the biology of sexual maturity, but rather the conflict created by the relative differences in evolutionary speed between biology and psychology. That Artie’s forever isn’t fully matured yet foreshadows the changes coming in Katherine’s maturation process:
“Artie was in one of his high moods, entertaining us with family stories until I brought out the cupcake with the candle on it and set it down in front of Michael. I sang `Happy Birthday,’ even though his birthday isn't until next Thursday. He was surprised and pleased and made me help him blow out the candle, at which point Artie grew very somber. `Eighteen years…’ he said. `A quarter of our lives gone by...over...kaput...just like that…’ He snapped his fingers. `From now on it's all downhill…’”
