First published in 1939, Steinbeck’s Pulitzer Prize-winning epic of the Great Depression chronicles the Dust Bowl migration of the 1930s and tells the story of one Oklahoma farm family, the Joads—driven from their homestead and forced to travel west to the promised land of California.
MY THOUGHTS:
Long ago, I had to study this book for Year 12 English, and decided it was depressing, emotionally scarring and the absolute pits. But several reader friends have loved it. It won Steinbeck the Pulitzer prize in 1940 and struck such a nerve in America, laws for down-and-out laborers ended up being changed. It was also the bestselling fiction title in America in 1939. These are all excellent reasons to put aside my teenage prejudice and re-read it.
Here is some background. During the great Depression when central USA was an unproductive dust bowl, thousands of tenant farmers were forced off their land by landowners and urged to head further west for work instead. It turned out to be a callous way of passing the buck, since conditions in California were equally deplorable and desperate folk had nowhere to turn. Steinbeck interviewed some of these laborers for a series of articles, and their plight incensed him enough to write this classic novel on their behalf. His was the Voice for those who had no voice, and what an eloquently pissed-off voice it was!
Tom Joad is a 30-year-old jailbird who has just been released on parole. On his way home he meets his old preacher, Jim Casy, who has quit preaching because of habits he couldn't control. (Such as having sex with his female followers. Fair call, Casy.) The two men find Tom's old family home derelict and deserted, and track down the Joad family in the nick of time. They've been forced to join the mass exodus moving west to California, which they have every reason to believe flows with orange juice, wine and jobs for all seekers. So Tom and Casy decide to hop aboard the family truck, although technically the conditions of Tom's parole restrict him from travelling out of his own state.
This first section deals with the desolate dust bowl of Oklahoma, full of its own austere beauty, and takes the Joads on the first leg of their trip west. They are a mixed bag we grow to care for. Steinbeck's trademark style is a microscopic way of zooming in on the minutiae of people's facial features and clothing. It seems to work really well for him, shining a spotlight on their characters. He had a knack of intuitively knowing which apparently inconsequential details to mention. That approach doesn't work for every author.
So we have Grampa and Granma, a feisty duo who are beginning to lose the plot a bit; and their two sons, whiskered Pa and anxious Uncle John, who turned hypochondriac after his wife's tragic appendicitis death which he'd brushed off as a stomachache.
The younger generation begins with Noah the plodding firstborn, who still gives the impression of being misshapen after a panicked delivery by Pa. Next is straight-talking Tom himself, then newly pregnant Rose of Sharon (called Rosasharn) whose 19-year-old hubby Connie is also along for the ride. This young man gives the impression of being a bit dreamy and not good for much hands-on stuff other than fathering babies. Fourth Joad kid is 16-year-old Al with his handsome face, raging hormones and mechanical know-how of which he's very proud. Al regards his brother Tom with pride, rather than shame, for having killed a guy. Finally there are the two youngest, scrappy Ruthie and secretly sensitive Winfield, who are 12 and 10.
But caring for all is Ma, the family thermometer and cornerstone. We are told her husband and kids only admit to hurt and fear if she acknowledges them first. 'And since when a joyful thing happened, they looked to her to see whether joy was on her, it was her habit to build laughter out of inadequate material.' She's regarded as one of the great mothers of literary fiction.
Great insights from characters flow thick and fast, especially from Casy the ex-preacher, who loves to quietly take himself aside to simply sit and think things through. His insight can be simple. I can't say no grace like I use ta say. I'm glad o' the holiness of breakfast. I'm glad there's love here. That's all.'
But my favourite so far is this exchange between Ma and young Al, while she sits beside him as he drives. I'm convinced some of the best conversations happen from the cockpit of a vehicle.
Al: Ain't you thinkin' what's it gonna be like when we get there? Ain't you scared it won't be nice like we thought?
Ma: No! No, I ain't. You can't do that. I can't do that. It's too much - livin' too many lives. Up ahead they's a thousan' lives we might live, but when it comes it'll o'ny be one. If I go ahead on all of 'em, it's too much. You got to live ahead 'cause you're so young, but it's just the road goin' by for me. An' it's just how soon they gonna want to eat some more pork bones.
I've got to say, I'm enjoying it thus far. I'm looking forward to wrapping up with the next section, although not so much the rude awakening which surely awaits the hopeful and resourceful Joad family. Stick around for Part 2, Chapters 16 - 30.
These were real people with glimpses of their soul hung out to dry...an author with a heart of flesh that throbs throughout the pages of the book burning your fingers and piercing your heart. Not the virtual reality world fuelled by imagined atrocities that make a warm pulse into a cold zombie...
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