Showing posts with label The Grapes of Wrath. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Grapes of Wrath. Show all posts

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Classic Book Recommendations


Currently Reading: Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison


So I’ve really struggled with this last post for Nine New November Novel ‘Ntries. It’s not that I don’t have books that I’ve finished and need to write about. In fact, I still have two to write about in order to be caught up. The problem is that the next book I completed after Death of a Salesman was Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. It was an incredible book and I just don’t feel like I’ve had enough time to digest all my thoughts about it and thus be able to do it justice in a post. So I’ve decided to hold off on that post until I can properly put all of my thoughts in order.


Plus, my best friend from college is coming to visit me today and, therefore, I have a limited amount of time to complete this post and with it my goal for the month.

So I’m slightly copping out and doing another book recommendations post. But with a twist.

As of today, I’ve read 27 of the books on my list of classics. I’m sure that I’ve been pretty clear about which ones I did and didn’t enjoy, but I’m not sure it’s been clear which ones I have enjoyed the most and believe you should read. So today, I’m going to give you book recommendations from my Reading List. As always, descriptions come from the backs of the covers when available.

WARNING: My blog posts about these novels most likely contain spoilers. I would love to know your opinions of the books once you’ve finished, but if you intend to read them, it’s probably better to save my posts for after.


“He’s a boisterous, brawling, fun-loving rebel who swaggers into the ward of a mental hospital and takes over …

He’s a lusty, profane, life-loving fighter who rallies the other patients around him by challenging the dictatorship of Big Nurse. He promotes gambling in the ward, smuggles in wine and women. At every turn, he openly defies her rule.

The contest starts as sport (with McMurphy taking bets on the outcome) but soon it develops into a grim struggle for the minds and hearts of the men, into an all-out war between two relentless opponents: Big Nurse, backed by the full power of authority … McMurphy, who has only his own indomitable will.”


“Seconds before Earth is demolished to make way for a galactic freeway, Arthur Dent is plucked off the planet by his friend Ford Prefect, a researcher for the revised edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy who, for the last fifteen years, has been posing as an out-of-work actor.
            Together, this dynamic pair begin a journey through space aided by a galaxyful of fellow travelers: Zaphod Beeblebrox, the two-headed, three-armed ex-hippie and totally out-to-lunch president of the galaxy; Trillian (formerly Tricia McMillan), Zaphod’s girlfriend, whom Arthur tried to pick up at a cocktail party once upon a time zone; Marvin, a paranoid, brilliant, and chronically depressed robot; and Veet Voojagig, a former graduate student obsessed with the disappearance of all the ballpoint pens he’s bought over the years.
            Where are these pens? Why are we born? Why do we die? For all the answers, stick your thumb to the stars!”


“At once naturalistic epic, captivity narrative, road novel, and transcendental gospel, Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath is perhaps the most American of American classics. Although it follows the movement of thousands of men and women and the transformation of an entire nation during the Dust Bowl migration of the 1930s, The Grapes of Wrath is also the story of one Oklahoma farm family, the Joads, who are driven off their homestead and forced to travel west to the promised land of California. From their trials and their repeated collisions against the hard realities of this new America, Steinbeck creates a drama that is intensely human yet majestic in its scale and morale vision, tragic but ultimately stirring in its insistence on human dignity.”

And now I've technically completed this goal for November!

Thursday, November 7, 2013

You Can't Always Trust a First Impression

Currently Reading: Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez


One of the reasons I’ve really enjoyed this reading project is that it’s not only introduced me to novels and authors that I’ve fallen in love with and that I might otherwise never have sought out on my own (i.e. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest), but it’s also given me the opportunity to revisit books and authors of which I’ve formed unfair opinions during my formative years (i.e. George Orwell, The Hobbit). The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck gave me just such an opportunity.

I owe John Steinbeck one serious apology for all the name bashing I've done over the years.

Like Orwell, I had a bad English class experience with Steinbeck. (Actually, both of those bad experiences and my bad experience with The Hobbit all were in the same class... that can't be a coincidence...) In 8th grade, my English teacher assigned us The Pearl and I distinctly remember it as the most painful reading experience I had had to that point in my life. I remember The Pearl as having a very unbalanced ratio of plot to description and that the description was excruciatingly detailed. It felt like Steinbeck would depict every ring and bump on a log in a swamp even when both log and swamp were irrelevant to the plot. Admittedly, I have zero memory of the plot beyond that some guy finds a pearl. Even that summary I'm only 10% confident is accurate.

I would like to say, though, that I would imagine my early, negative impressions of Animal Farm and The Pearl would radically change if I read them again now, much as was the case when I re-read The Hobbit. So these anecdotes should not dissuade you from reading either.

Unfortunately, the damage had been done for Steinbeck and he could not redeem himself, even with the dialogue-heavy and thoroughly enjoyable Of Mice and Men that I read the following year.

So it was with a hint of trepidation that I began The Grapes of Wrath. The first two chapters were tainted with my deeply-ingrained, 8th-grade opinion and I internally groaned for most of them. Then, horror of horror!, the book included dialect writing, a pet peeve of mine. Strike two. The third seemed inevitable and I dreaded the trudge through the rest of the novel.

Then something amazing happened. I can't even really pinpoint when it happened, but at some point I started to loosen my grip on my long held belief that Steinbeck was the worst writer ever. Once that happened, I actually realized that the opposite is true.

I loved this book!! It was beautiful, sad, and eye-opening. It revealed a somber chapter of America's history to me that had only been a fact in textbooks before. I had never fully grasped the awful exploitation that occurred during this migration. It made me appreciate and truly understand the rise of unions and labor laws.

Despite initial prejudices against the characters (especially Tom Joad who had the extreme misfortune of being the first to appear and therefore the most heavily subjected to my irrational anti-Steinbeck thoughts), I came to deeply care and hurt for these characters. They are tough and go through misfortune after misfortune (it really hit a point when every time there's a moment of happiness, I internally flinched and thought, Oh God, now what's going to happen?? Can't they catch a break??) and still they retain their sense of compassion, humanity, and dignity. 

My absolute favorite part of the book - which has sold me on Steinbeck's writing genius - is the way he narrows and widens the scope of the story. While the focus is on the Joad family and their particular sad saga, Steinbeck includes alternating chapters that tell the generalized story of nameless, faceless families, only referring to them as "Pa," "Ma," etc. It was a brilliant way to drive home how universal these experiences of suffering were at this time in American history; the Joads were not just exceptionally unlucky. Hundreds of families were all subjected to these horrors and abuses. By weaving in the faceless, nameless anecdotes, Steinbeck almost seems to imply that this very easily could have happened to the reader or his family. It's just such a clever way to really get the reader to understand the scale and yet to evoke his empathy for this specific family.

So, Mr. Steinbeck, I hereby solemnly and profusely apologize.

And if you haven't read The Grapes of Wrath, go do so immediately!