My son recently recommended East of Eden and had left a copy at the house (which was actually borrowed from my daughter's friend), so I began with high expectations and finished with high praise. In fact, every time I opened the book I found myself wishing it was my own copy, because more than any novel I have read there were countless passages that begged for markings and margin annotations.
This is an extraordinary novel, in my opinion dwarfing Steinbeck's other works, including the revered Of Mice and Men and critically acclaimed Grapes of Wrath. It is an ambitious novel, albeit one that is glaringly flawed. But on my literary scales, a dollop of ambition more than compensates for a whole slop of imperfections.
This is not a page-turner, urging us forward with a compelling story and an earnest curiosity about what will happen next. And while there is a plot, it is little more than a genealogy, tracing two families from the Civil War to World War I, from Connecticut to Steinbeck's actual homeland--the Salinas Valley in Northern California. It is more a penetrating character examination, and all types of saints and miscreants are on display.
These pages are meant to be turned slowly; chewed on a bit, then carefully digested. Like Shakespeare, there is relentless truth there--about good and evil, fathers and sons, husbands and wives. The book contains more than I could handle on the human condition, both the good and bad in all people, in their various combinations and manifestations. Steinbeck paints archetypes for human behaviors and motivations that can only be known through raw self-examination. There were two kinds I was familiar with, through personal experience: those I am eager to show publicly, and those I don't talk about, but push back to the darkened corners of my soul, hoping others won't notice and I will forget their existence.
The biblical metaphors are heavy-handed and unmistakable. Cain and Abel. Charles and Adam. Caleb and Aron. There is no pretense here--we are trying to understand why people do what they do, and whether they can help it, whether they can change, so we go back to our primeval story. And like the world we live in, there is no shortage of material to bring us to optimism or despair. But also like our world, you often have to look a little harder to see the good.
It would be easy to call this a depressing novel, because sin and depravity stand heavy on their side of the scale. That is to rightfully say that the world is out of balance. Yet East of Eden manages to find hope glimmering in the darkness, and emerges as a triumph of the human spirit and a glory in its potential.
