That Was Then, This Is Now remains one of the most poignant coming-of-age novels in young adult literature, a raw exploration of loyalty, betrayal, and the brutal erosion of innocence. Written by S.E. Hinton and published in 1971, the book serves as a spiritual successor to The Outsiders, sharing the same gritty Tulsa backdrop but diving deeper into the psychological fractures that occur when childhood bonds collide with adult realities. Central to this narrative’s emotional core is the character of M&M, a gentle soul whose tragic trajectory acts as the catalyst for the novel’s devastating climax. Understanding M&M’s role is essential to grasping the novel’s enduring message about the cost of survival in a world that devours the vulnerable The details matter here. That alone is useful..
The World of Bryon and Mark: A Brotherhood Tested
The story centers on Bryon Douglas and Mark Jennings, two teenagers raised as brothers in a rough neighborhood where violence and poverty are daily currencies. Bryon, the narrator, is charismatic, introspective, and beginning to feel the pull of maturity—girls, jobs, and a future beyond the next fight. Mark, conversely, is the embodiment of static youth: beautiful, amoral, fiercely loyal to Bryon alone, and utterly incapable of envisioning a life different from the one he knows.
Their bond is the axis upon which the novel spins. That said, the title That Was Then, This Is Now signals an inevitable divergence. On top of that, they are "blood brothers" not by birth but by choice, a pact sealed in the fires of shared trauma and mutual protection. The "then" was a time of unified front against the world; the "now" is a fracturing reality where individual morality demands a separation that feels like betrayal.
Who Is M&M? The Conscience of the Novel
Mike "M&M" Carlson enters the narrative as a peripheral figure—Cathy’s younger brother, a "hippie" kid with long hair, a peace symbol necklace, and a habit of eating M&M candies by the handful. Plus, on the surface, he seems the antithesis of Bryon and Mark’s hard-edged existence. He is soft, idealistic, and deeply sensitive, representing a counterculture movement that the novel treats with a mix of skepticism and tenderness.
Not the most exciting part, but easily the most useful.
M&M is not a greaser, nor is he a Soc (Social). He exists in a liminal space, rejected by the mainstream for his appearance and beliefs, yet too gentle for the street code that governs Bryon and Mark’s lives. His nickname, derived from the candy, suggests a sweetness that feels out of place in the novel’s harsh landscape. He is the "canary in the coal mine," the character whose fragility exposes the toxicity of the environment surrounding the protagonists Simple, but easy to overlook..
While Bryon and Mark manage the external threats of rival gangs and police harassment, M&M battles an internal war. On the flip side, his home life is fractured; his father is a rigid, critical man who cannot accept his son’s nonconformity. This domestic pressure cooker drives M&M to seek escape, first in the commune lifestyle and eventually in the false promise of psychedelic drugs.
Counterintuitive, but true.
The Catalyst: M&M’s Disappearance and the Acid Trip
The novel’s turning point arrives when M&M runs away. On the flip side, bryon, motivated by genuine affection for Cathy and a growing sense of responsibility, wants to find M&M to save him. Day to day, his disappearance forces Bryon and Mark into a search that reveals the widening chasm between them. Mark helps, but his motivation is loyalty to Bryon, not concern for M&M It's one of those things that adds up..
When they finally locate M&M in a squalid hippie house, the scene is harrowing. Plus, m&M is in the throes of a bad LSD trip, convinced spiders are eating him alive. This moment shatters Bryon’s remaining illusions. The imagery is visceral and terrifying: a child lost in a chemical hell, abandoned by the very counterculture that promised him peace and love. He realizes that the "freedom" M&M sought was a trap, just as the "loyalty" Mark offers is a cage And that's really what it comes down to..
The aftermath of the acid trip leaves M&M permanently damaged—paranoid, withdrawn, and potentially brain-damaged. He becomes a living ghost, a warning sign that the rules have changed. The streets don't just break bones anymore; they break minds.
The Moral Schism: Bryon’s Choice
M&M’s fate is the direct catalyst for Bryon’s ultimate decision: turning Mark in for dealing drugs. Because of that, for years, Bryon and Mark operated on a singular code: us against the world. Still, this is the moment the title solidifies its meaning. Mark sells drugs to support them, viewing it as a pragmatic necessity, devoid of moral weight. He cannot comprehend why Bryon would betray him for "strangers" or abstract principles Worth keeping that in mind..
But Bryon has seen the product of that pragmatism in M&M’s ruined eyes. He realizes that Mark’s amorality—the same trait that makes him a survivor—creates victims. M&M is the collateral damage of a world where people like Mark sell poison to kids like M&M to buy cars and status for people like Bryon.
Bryon’s decision to call the police on Mark is an act of agonizing maturity. On the flip side, he saves his soul but loses his brother. He chooses the "now"—a future defined by law, consequence, and individual accountability—over the "then"—a past defined by tribal loyalty and moral blindness. Mark, arrested and sent to prison, hardens into a stranger, his capacity for love cauterized by the ultimate betrayal Practical, not theoretical..
Thematic Resonance: Innocence vs. Experience
M&M functions as the novel’s moral compass, even in his absence. His destruction illustrates the novel’s central thesis: innocence cannot survive contact with this world without armor, but armor destroys the humanity it protects.
- Mark chooses armor. He becomes hard, cynical, and incapable of connection. He survives physically but dies spiritually.
- M&M has no armor. His openness destroys him.
- Bryon attempts a third path. He tries to build armor without losing his humanity—taking responsibility, getting a job, dating Cathy—but the cost is a profound, isolating loneliness.
The novel refuses a happy ending. Consider this: bryon doesn't "get the girl" in a fairytale sense; he and Cathy drift apart, weighed down by the shared trauma of M&M and Mark. The final image of Bryon driving alone, wishing he could go back to "then," encapsulates the universal grief of growing up. We gain the world (autonomy, adulthood) but lose the magic (uncomplicated love, shared history).
Literary Context: Hinton’s Evolution
Comparing That Was Then, This Is Now to The Outsiders reveals Hinton’s maturation as a writer. Which means The Outsiders is operatic, romanticizing the greaser brotherhood even in tragedy. That Was Then, This Is Now is clinical, almost forensic in its dissection of that same brotherhood. It asks: *What happens to Ponyboy Curtis ten years later if he doesn't write the theme paper? What if the sensitivity doesn't save him?
M&M is the bridge between the two novels. He possesses Ponyboy’s sensitivity and Johnny Cade’s vulnerability, but he lacks their protective tribe. On the flip side, the greasers in The Outsiders die for each other; the characters in That Was Then, This Is Now destroy each other to survive. M&M’s death-in-life is the proof that the romanticized loyalty of the earlier book is a luxury the real world rarely affords Turns out it matters..
Why M&M Matters: The "Other" in a Binary World
In a narrative often defined by the binary of Greasers vs. Socs, M&M represents the third option—the kid who opts out. He tries to build a world based on peace and love, but the novel argues that opting out is a privilege the poor cannot afford No workaround needed..
Easier said than done, but still worth knowing.
