Two words: beach read.
That’s right. THIS is what I was reading when I wasn’t walking along the beach, floating in the (pitiful) waves, or building sandcastles with my nephew.
I loved this book. I loved the rhythm of the chapters. I loved that the introduction pointed this out to me, though I probably would have pieced it together without that guidance, and the lengthy introduction was probably the most boring part of this book. (I could have skipped it, I know, but once I start something, I see it through to the end.)
The themes of this book seemed very applicable to the modern reader, though the contexts of oppression look different. I particularly love the way Steinbeck can narrate our motivations for atrocious behavior – he spoke baldly of the selfishness of man, of our desire to define strangers as “other” so we can quickly redefine them as “wrong.”
so fragile, so essential
look me in the eye