Lennie, a man with the psyche of a tyke, couldn't in any way, shape or form make due alone because of his inability, so he has George to lead him on his way. This is an awesome case of how companionship can "lead" you out of trench and rather take you to a place that is known for care and bliss and may even be the last bit of the confuse to a flawless life. Lennie, plainly, isn't fit to live in the public as it exists in Of Mice and Men. His intellectual weakness parallels
Candy's physical weakness. He does not have a fundamental feeling of good and bad, neglects to control his perilous physical power, and can't take care of himself. At the point when, at last, he is successfully euthanised by George, we see that even his friend and partner has acknowledged that
Lennie, similar to Candy's canine, is in an ideal situation dead. Steinbeck welcomes the peruser to have a complex passionate reaction to this sharp truth. All things considered, Lennie is very amiable and, when around George, controllable. Be that as it may, this doesn't stop the inescapable, distressing truth of Steinbeck's Darwinian social world in which the unfit draw in disdain, as opposed to sensitivity, for their