George Milton
Lennie’s companion and protector
George is "small and quick, dark of face, with restless eyes and sharp, strong features". He carries the burden of thinking for two men and suppresses his own desires to protect Lennie. His ritual recitation of the dream is both a lullaby for Lennie and a prayer for himself. Steinbeck gives George the novella’s most morally agonising decision: the killing of Lennie is simultaneously a mercy, a failure, and a self-destruction — because without Lennie, George becomes exactly the lonely drifter he feared becoming.
“Guys like us, that work on ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world.”
Lennie Small
George’s companion
Lennie is "a huge man, shapeless of face, with large, pale eyes". His name is ironic — he is physically enormous but mentally childlike. Steinbeck consistently describes him with animal imagery: he drinks "like a horse", moves "the way a bear drags his paws". His love of soft things — mice, puppies, Curley’s wife’s hair — is genuine but lethal because he cannot calibrate his own strength. Lennie’s disability means he is always the most vulnerable person on the ranch and simultaneously the most dangerous.
“I got you to look after me, and you got me to look after you.”
Candy
Ageing ranch handyman
Candy is old, one-handed, and increasingly aware that the ranch will discard him when he can no longer work. His attachment to his ancient dog parallels George’s attachment to Lennie, and the dog’s death at Carlson’s hands foreshadows the ending. Candy’s offer to invest his savings in the dream farm makes the dream briefly financially real — and its collapse all the more devastating. His final line, "I ought to of shot that dog myself", is the novella’s clearest statement about the cost of letting others act on your behalf.
“I ought to of shot that dog myself, George.”
Curley
The boss’s son
Curley is small, aggressive, and recently married. Steinbeck gives him a Vaseline glove, a combative posture, and an insecure masculinity that expresses itself through violence toward anyone bigger than himself. He picks fights to prove dominance and treats his wife as property. When Lennie crushes his hand, the injury to Curley’s pride is worse than the physical damage. He represents the petty tyranny that institutional power enables.
“Come on, ya big son-of-a-bitch.”
Curley’s wife
The only woman on the ranch
Steinbeck never names her. She is defined entirely by her relation to Curley, and the ranch men treat her as a threat. But her monologue in the barn reveals a young woman with her own failed dream — a man in Salinas who promised her a Hollywood career. Steinbeck presents her loneliness as genuine and her need for conversation as human, not predatory. Her death in the barn restores the humanity the narrative withheld in life: "She was very pretty and simple, and her face was sweet and young."
“I never get to talk to nobody. I get awful lonely.”
Crooks
Black stable buck
Crooks is the only Black man on the ranch. He lives alone in the harness room because racial segregation excludes him from the bunkhouse. His crooked spine — kicked by a horse — is a physical emblem of the damage done by marginalisation. In his one extended scene, he diagnoses loneliness as a pathology, briefly allows himself to believe in the dream, and then retreats when Curley’s wife threatens to have him lynched. Steinbeck uses Crooks to show how racial oppression systematically destroys hope.
“A guy needs somebody — to be near him.”
Slim
Jerkline skinner
Slim is the ranch’s moral authority. Steinbeck describes him with near-reverent language: "moved with a majesty only achieved by royalty". He is the only character who understands the George–Lennie relationship without explanation, and his quiet approval functions as the text’s ethical compass. After the final shooting, Slim leads George away with "Come on, George. I’ll buy you a drink." His compassion is the novella’s only surviving warmth.
“You hadda, George. I swear you hadda.”
Carlson
Ranch worker
Carlson is pragmatic, unsentimental and emotionally blank. He insists on shooting Candy’s dog because it smells, and his efficiency is meant to chill. The novella’s final line belongs to him: "Now what the hell ya suppose is eatin’ them two guys?" His incomprehension seals Steinbeck’s verdict: in a world built on labour and isolation, grief is literally unintelligible.
“Now what the hell ya suppose is eatin’ them two guys?”
The Boss
Ranch owner
The boss appears only briefly but establishes the power structure. He is suspicious of George speaking for Lennie and assumes exploitation. His small kindness — giving the men whiskey at Christmas — does not redeem the economic system he runs. Steinbeck positions him as the invisible hand behind the ranch’s hierarchies.
“I said what stake you got in this guy?”