Their car got repossessed. It was a late-model Dodge Spirit, leased, sky blue, none of that I guess being the point. Mr. McCobb couldn’t get to work anymore, so he lost his job, was the point. You tell me why it makes sense for guys wanting money from you to come and take your car, so you can’t earn another dime. That’s the grown-up version I guess of teachers yelling at you for hating school.
This quote from Chapter 23 encapsulates the relentless and self-perpetuating nature of the cycle of poverty, where systemic structures seem designed to ensure failure rather than recovery. In this chapter, Demon reflects on the McCobbs’ dire financial situation, specifically the repossession of their car and its cascading consequences. The repossession of the Dodge Spirit, an act ostensibly intended to recover money owed, paradoxically strips Mr. McCobb of his ability to work, ensuring that he cannot earn the money needed to escape his predicament. This absurdity highlights the punitive nature of poverty: those who are struggling are punished further, deepening their struggles.
The comparison to teachers yelling at students for hating school draws a parallel between childhood and adult experiences of systemic oppression. Just as a struggling student is berated rather than supported, a struggling adult is penalized rather than aided. This cyclical logic, devoid of empathy or foresight, perpetuates hardship instead of offering a pathway out. It underscores how institutions—whether schools, financial systems, or workplaces—often fail to address root causes, instead compounding the problems of those they are meant to serve.
I thought of Mrs. Peggot making those quilts for all her kids and grandkids. The best people you could ever know. Save for the unlucky two, Humvee and Mariah. And among all the cousins, the only bad seeds turned out to be theirs, Emmy and Maggot, even though they were taken in by others and raised up right. I’d had some of the same kindness, the Peggots, Miss Betsy, Coach. And Fast Forward’s story, the same. Many had tried their best with us, but we came out of too-hungry mothers. Four demons spawned by four different starving hearts.
This quote from Chapter 45 emphasizes how systemic failures and personal hardships intertwine to shape the lives of Demon and those around him. Demon reflects on the Peggot family, noting the stark contrast between their acts of kindness and the tragic outcomes of certain members, such as Emmy and Maggot. Despite being raised by loving and supportive figures, Emmy and Maggot are unable to escape the shadows cast by their biological circumstances, illustrating how deeply entrenched cycles of trauma and deprivation can be.
The imagery of “too-hungry mothers” is particularly evocative, symbolizing both literal hunger and the emotional and material deprivation that often defines life in impoverished communities. These “starving hearts” suggest not just physical poverty but a generational inheritance of despair, unfulfilled dreams, and unhealed wounds. Demon’s acknowledgment that many people “tried their best” underscores the limits of individual efforts in the face of systemic oppression. No matter how much love or care is given, the broader societal forces—lack of access to resources, opportunities, and stability—often dictate the trajectory of lives born into these circumstances.
The phrase “four demons spawned” captures the self-perception and external judgment that haunt children born into poverty and addiction. Demon’s use of the term “demon” to describe himself and his peers reflects the stigma attached to their origins, as well as the internalized shame that comes from being treated as doomed or defective. This insight aligns with the novel’s exploration of how narratives—both personal and cultural—shape identity.
“It’s not natural for boys to lose their minds,” she said. “It happens because they’ve had too many things taken away from them.”
I asked her like what. She got up and walked around the room, upset. No decent schooling, she said. No chance to get good at anything that uses our talents. No future. They took all that away and supplied us with the tools for cooking our brains, hoping we’d kill each other before we figured out the real assholes are a thousand miles from here.
I told her I didn’t hold with that line of reason. I knew plenty of assholes at close range.
This quotation, spoken by June during a conversation with Demon about Hammer’s death, directly addresses the theme of the cycle of poverty and addiction. June’s assertion that boys lose their minds not because of inherent flaws but because "they’ve had too many things taken away from them" frames addiction and self-destruction as systemic issues rather than individual failings. She lists the deprivation of decent education, opportunities to develop talents, and any sense of a viable future as the root causes of their struggles. These deprivations, combined with the influx of addictive substances, create a perfect storm designed to destroy lives before the affected individuals can recognize or challenge the larger forces at work.
June’s words highlight the deliberate nature of this cycle. The mention of "tools for cooking our brains" supplied by distant, faceless "real assholes" implicates institutions like pharmaceutical companies and policymakers who exploit economically devastated regions like Appalachia. This mirrors the broader systemic critique of the opioid epidemic throughout the novel, showing how addiction is not just a personal battle but a manifestation of generational neglect and exploitation.
Demon’s retort that he knows plenty of "assholes at close range" introduces a layer of complexity. While June points to systemic forces, Demon’s response reflects the immediate harm inflicted by those within their community who perpetuate the cycle, whether through dealing drugs or fostering violence. This tension between systemic and localized blame underscores the intricacy of the cycle of poverty and addiction, where external exploitation intertwines with internal decay.