Rich (7/26): The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
I had no choice. It was time for me to read this book. There was no way that I could go through 26 and ignore this demure, elegant lady in the corner. I was well acquainted with her family of cousins and sisters -- the Red Pony, the Pearl, Of Mice and Men, Travels with Charley, the Winter of Our Discontent. But, I was always reluctant to introuduce myself to her. I was afraid; I wasn't ready; I didn't have the courage; I didn't have the time. What if we didn't hit it off? What if she didn't live up to my expectations? What if I wasn't worthy of her? I had cherry-picked my way through the field, and she remained. I was finally ready.
******
The land is alive. The shingles rattle, the corn whistles, and the cotton sleeps in the fields. And then, the dust -- it consumes everything, a tidal wave sparing nothing and refusing to melt. The land is dying. And in so doing, thrusts those that depend upon her into the wild. Urging them, pushing them, abandoning them onto the highway, bound for dreams that will not be realized, hopes that can never be. These migrants are also dying.
They struggle. They transform a car into their home. Everything they own is on that car, and everything else has been sold or left behind. But, the car is dying, too. It leaks oil and thumps and shudders like an old, bony man. But the people move on, fleeing one life, only to tighten the noose in the next.
How can they go on? How can they continue? They search for work, but I cannot bear their struggles. They move from one camp to the next, hoping that they will find the means to stay alive, but I have lost hope for them; the only unanswered question about their future is how they will meet their end. But, continue they do, and continue I do.
The right arm is lost, so that the left can live. How long can this go on before the body is no longer a man, no longer human? I wait for the moment these parents go from begging to stealing, from serving to rebelling. Their grievances are justified, and their anger boiling. If they are to die, then they should die taking down their oppressors. But, they do not die, and they do not kill. They adapt, survive, and remain altogether human despite their treatment to the contrary. I vow to learn how to be so strong, but can I without the hunger in my belly?
******
The land is alive. The shingles rattle, the corn whistles, and the cotton sleeps in the fields. And then, the dust -- it consumes everything, a tidal wave sparing nothing and refusing to melt. The land is dying. And in so doing, thrusts those that depend upon her into the wild. Urging them, pushing them, abandoning them onto the highway, bound for dreams that will not be realized, hopes that can never be. These migrants are also dying.They struggle. They transform a car into their home. Everything they own is on that car, and everything else has been sold or left behind. But, the car is dying, too. It leaks oil and thumps and shudders like an old, bony man. But the people move on, fleeing one life, only to tighten the noose in the next.
How can they go on? How can they continue? They search for work, but I cannot bear their struggles. They move from one camp to the next, hoping that they will find the means to stay alive, but I have lost hope for them; the only unanswered question about their future is how they will meet their end. But, continue they do, and continue I do.
The right arm is lost, so that the left can live. How long can this go on before the body is no longer a man, no longer human? I wait for the moment these parents go from begging to stealing, from serving to rebelling. Their grievances are justified, and their anger boiling. If they are to die, then they should die taking down their oppressors. But, they do not die, and they do not kill. They adapt, survive, and remain altogether human despite their treatment to the contrary. I vow to learn how to be so strong, but can I without the hunger in my belly?
posted by Rich at 1:00 AM
5 Comments:
Click on the book image and read some of the B&N readers' reviews. It's a laugh! ("This book teaches you to never take things for granite.")
They don't come anywhere near Rich's writing. Bravo!
- Kayan
And you passed on Angela's Ashes because you thought *it* was too depressing? Heh, nice job. I've never read this one, but I was so so very impressed with East of Eden. We're neck and neck near the back of the pack, and head to head on creative write-ups. :)
It took me at least half of an hour to get that book image in there. A combination of a dialup connection, problems with IE, and trying to get it exactly how I wanted it (I settled after a half of an hour).
Angela's Ashes has made it to my shelf. It stands a fair chance of being read.
As far as us being neck-and-neck... I'm glad to have the company. And, I'm just getting started.
I love Steinbeck :). I remember the Grapes of Wrath - very depressing. But still a good read if I remember correctly.
Makes me wanna pick up The Pearl again...
The Grapes of Wrath deals with poverty, but there is an underlying message about community and survival. Steinbeck again and again juxtaposes a portrait of individual greed with that of community generosity. Beneath the smoke that stings the eyes lies the fire that warms the soul.
Post a Comment
<< Home