“The Grapes of Wrath”

“There ain’t room enough for you an’ me, fear your kind an’ my kind, for rich and poor together all in one country, for thieves.” (Loc 3217)

“Sure, they talk the same language, but they ain’t the same. Look how they live. Think any of us folks’d live like that? Hell, no!” (Loc 5594)

“And the great owners, who must lose their land in an upheaval, the great owners with access to history, with eyes to read history and to know the great fact: when property accumulates in too few hands it is taken away. And that companion fact; when a majority of the people are hungry and cold they will take by force what they need. And the little screaming fact that sounds through all history; repression works only to strengthen and knit the repressed.” (Loc 5633)

I don’t even know where to start. Steinbeck created a roller coaster of emotions. I wanted to bond with the Joan’s. I wanted to sympathize with their plight. Then I got angry. Angry at the Great Depression. Angry at the way the banks pushed farmers off their land. Angry that “Okies” were thought of less than. Angry that people starved due to the greed of a few. Angry that profits outweighed everything. Angry.

So much today feels the same. Corporate greed. Political greed. Injustice. Keeping people at a disadvantage to keep the “upper hand.” Power mongering. Trying to breathe. Trying to convince myself that we are not repeating history. Trying to find a sliver of hope.

Hopeful in the tenacity of the human spirit. Hopeful that honest, open people will prevail. Hopeful. 

“Passage West”

“He would be forever suspended between two lands, never whole.” (344)

Growing up in the Napa Valley, I don’t know that I ever gave much thought about the lives of those who worked in the vineyards. I went to school with their children; I thought I understood some of their history. But there is so much more that I didn’t see or understand. 

This novel made me think of Jimmy Vallenueva, a sixth grade classmate, whose parents worked at one of the wineries. Jimmy had a crush on me. I wasn’t interested in him (I was only 11) but I wasn’t cruel to him either. I don’t know that I ever thought about his economic situation, or whether his parents were migrant workers. I didn’t question his citizenship status. He was a classmate, learning right alongside the rest of us. I suppose I was naive - perhaps I still am. 

Imperial Valley, California. Not grapes - cantaloupe, cotton, and lettuce. The American Dream. Hope. Fear. Racism. Laws. Dignity. Whiskey…a lot of whiskey.

I’ve never understood why one group of people feel the need to push down another in order to elevate themselves. How some can look at human beings as something less. What are they afraid of? Are they afraid that with hard work and determination, those they see as “less than” may achieve the American Dream? Where does that thinking come from?

I feel like we all came from immigrant stock. Leaving one world behind to embrace the unknown in a new place. To put down roots. To hang on to one culture, while trying to blend into a different one. It saddens me to see so much hate today, as in the novel. Aren’t our differences what make this nation great? Perhaps my naïveté is showing…again.

“Your Perfect Year”

 

Originally written in German, I was a bit skeptical (track record with novels written in world languages: not great). However, I fell in love with this novel immediately. The storyline played out like a language arts story mountain - beginning, build up, problem, resolution, and ending. Love. Loss. Trust. Fate. A psychic. Mistakes. Chances. Change. Friendship. Anger. Acceptance. Self-awareness. Mindfulness. Balance.  As the two storylines started to meld together, I hoped that Lucas would give me the ending I wanted. How would her characters start over; start fresh, while still holding onto the past…would there be a happily-ever-after? Let’s just say, I was not disappointed.