, Poland, and Miss Marie (or "The Maginot Line")--who live over the Breedloves' storefront home to Pecola's confused and damaged mother to the generalized voices of the adults. Claudia claims that they did not hear their words "but with grown-ups [they] listen[ed] and watch[ed] out for their voices" (14). Yet the degree of comprehension shown by the sisters increases as the novel progresses and they move from their instinctive reactions to their mother's behavior to their reasoned response to the flow of voices that discuss Pecola's tragic circumstances. By the end of the novel they are wise enough to experience moral outrage but childish enough that their "astonishment was short-lived, for it gave way to a curious kind of defensive shame; we were embarrassed for Pecola, hurt for her, and finally we were just sorry for her" (190). They were also childish enough to hope that their magic spell, combined with the sacrifice of their bike money and the ritual of the marigold seeds, would change the fortunes of Pecola and her unborn baby. In the brief second section of the book the voice of Claudia recalls that the sisters' "innocence and faith were no more productive than {Cholly Breedlove's} lust or despair" (6). But Pecola's tragedy was productive in the sense that the sisters' moral awareness resulted from it--even though this was clearly not a price they wished anyone to pay.
The root of Pecola's tragedy is shown in the opening segment of the book in which the children's primer, with its Dick and Jane story, is retold in an increasingly frantic manner with repetitions of key points until, finally, all the letters are jammed together in a meaningless torrent. The image of perfect white family, society, and (by implication) beauty that is idealized in the story contains the seeds of the self-loathing that characterizes the Breedloves. This is followed by, and contrasted with, the discussion of the seeds planted by Claudia and F...