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Steinbeck: A Life in Letters
For John Steinbeck, who hated the telephone, letter-writing was a preparation for work and a natural way for him to communicate his thoughts on people he liked and hated; on marriage, women, and children; on the condition of the world; and on his progress in learning his craft. Opening with letters written during Steinbeck's early years in California, and closing with a 1968 note written in Sag Harbor, New York, A Life in Letters reveals the inner thoughts and rough character of this American author as nothing else has and as nothing else ever will.
906 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1975
About the author
John Steinbeck
780 books22.8k followersJohn Ernst Steinbeck was an American writer. He won the 1962 Nobel Prize in Literature "for his realistic and imaginative writings, combining as they do sympathetic humor and keen social perception". He has been called "a giant of American letters."
During his writing career, he authored 33 books, with one book coauthored alongside Edward F. Ricketts, including 16 novels, six non-fiction books, and two collections of short stories. He is widely known for the comic novels Tortilla Flat (1935) and Cannery Row (1945), the multi-generation epic East of Eden (1952), and the novellas The Red Pony (1933) and Of Mice and Men (1937). The Pulitzer Prize–winning The Grapes of Wrath (1939) is considered Steinbeck's masterpiece and part of the American literary canon. By the 75th anniversary of its publishing date, it had sold 14 million copies.
Most of Steinbeck's work is set in central California, particularly in the Salinas Valley and the California Coast Ranges region. His works frequently explored the themes of fate and injustice, especially as applied to downtrodden or everyman protagonists.
During his writing career, he authored 33 books, with one book coauthored alongside Edward F. Ricketts, including 16 novels, six non-fiction books, and two collections of short stories. He is widely known for the comic novels Tortilla Flat (1935) and Cannery Row (1945), the multi-generation epic East of Eden (1952), and the novellas The Red Pony (1933) and Of Mice and Men (1937). The Pulitzer Prize–winning The Grapes of Wrath (1939) is considered Steinbeck's masterpiece and part of the American literary canon. By the 75th anniversary of its publishing date, it had sold 14 million copies.
Most of Steinbeck's work is set in central California, particularly in the Salinas Valley and the California Coast Ranges region. His works frequently explored the themes of fate and injustice, especially as applied to downtrodden or everyman protagonists.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 72 reviews
December 8, 2012
John Steinbeck was a compulsive writer. In a letter to his editor and friend Pat Covici in 1960, he recorded his excitement about a planned trip by campervan around the United States.* Steinbeck wrote: "I nearly always write - just as I nearly always breathe". The association of writing with life itself defines Steinbeck. He wrote novels, plays, screenplays, opinion pieces, political speeches, travel journalism and war reportage. And, of course, letters.
From his days as a struggling writer in the 1920s until his death in 1968, Steinbeck wrote letters almost daily: to friends and family, to his literary agent, to his editor and to the political leaders with whom he associated when he became well-known. When Steinbeck was writing a novel, letter-writing was his way of warming up for a day's work. At other times he wrote letters because this was just what he did. Steinbeck was a shy man who hated speaking on the phone and letters often took the place of conversation with the people he cared about. In addition, he didn't write an autobiography, avoided giving interviews and was terrified of public speaking, so the letters form an important record of Steinbeck's life.
Reading this book was quite a project. Its 906 pages include letters written over a period of more than forty years. The first letter in the volume was written in 1926 to a college friend while Steinbeck was working as a caretaker on an estate at Lake Tahoe while writing his first novel. The last letter is incomplete: a letter to his literary agent probably begun shortly before he died in 1968. I found the book a fascinating read. The letters in it have been chosen because they have something to say. Mere letters of obligation or letters which are simply answers to other letters were not included in the collection.
Steinbeck had plenty to say in his letters. The picture of him which emerges from them is of an intelligent and thoughtful man who had insight into his own failings, who was generous and compassionate and who had a genuine interest in people, in society and in the natural environment. He writes with enthusiasm about topics as diverse as gardening, dogs, boats and gadgets he has invented or things he believes should be invented. In addition, the letters deal with his debilitating bouts of depression, the despair he felt as his first two marriages failed, his deep and enduring love for his third wife, his concerns about his sons and his recurring feeling that his writing was inadequate. Steinbeck also writes a lot about writing, both reflecting on his own practice and giving encouragement and advice to other writers.
I've read the collected letters of other writers in the past: Jane Austen's letters and those of Dorothy L Sayers are the ones which immediately come to mind. However, I've not found myself marking so many pages of a book with sticky notes before. This volume positively bristles with colourful plastic tabs. There are gems of wisdom and insight in it which I want to be able to read again. At the same time, part of me feels slightly uncomfortable at having read this lifetime of correspondence. Steinbeck did not write to his wife, to his sons or to his friends with an eye to publication. He was a private man and these letters reveal his private thoughts. While I'm not sure that he would have liked the idea of the general public reading his letters, I'm still very glad that the editors - Steinbeck's wife Elaine and his friend Robert Wallsten - thought that putting together the volume was a worthwhile endeavour.
This is highly recommended for writers and for anyone who appreciates Steinbeck's writing, wants more insight into Steinbeck the man and has plenty of time to read a doorstopper of a book.
*The record of this trip became Travels with Charley: In Search of America.
May 29, 2010
I've been working on this book a long time-- a year or better. I would read a little here and there. I found it fascinating and couldn't put it down at times. But, I would force myself to only read a letter or two at a time because it was just something to be savored. Last night, I decided to just go ahead and finish it-- I had 200 pages left. It's good I finished the last 200 pages so quickly. It was depressing. I mean, it's hard to finish a book you have been reading so long and enjoying so much, knowing that the end of the book is leading to the author's death. Not only that, but reading the letters about illness and knowing there will be no more books, no more-- well, anything. Those last 200 pages are tough when you've spent over a year working on the first 600.
If you write, want to write, or even want to understand the mind of a writer, you need to read this book. It's amazing to me, loving Steinbeck's books as I do, to realize he considered himself someone with little talent but wanted to make the best of what skill he did have. Amazing. Profound. Read Steinbeck-- any and all!
If you write, want to write, or even want to understand the mind of a writer, you need to read this book. It's amazing to me, loving Steinbeck's books as I do, to realize he considered himself someone with little talent but wanted to make the best of what skill he did have. Amazing. Profound. Read Steinbeck-- any and all!
December 3, 2008
John Steinbeck never wrote an autobiography, but his letters probably reveal more about the writer and the man than an autobiography could have hoped to.
John Steinbeck was everyman, suffered every weakness, stood up to every duty, doubted his own talent, feared the beginning of every new work, and grew with each experience.
In one of his early letters he admitted his shortcomings when he was cornered by academia. He hated the idea of proper spelling and punctuation for a clean manuscript in his first draft and made the case for letting stenographers slip those commas into their proper places.
A letter he wrote in February 1936 spells out his feelings of inadequacy at the beginning of a new project. And that form of self-doubt reoccurs throughout the book. But almost in the same breath he admits that he loves the writing once he gets down to work.
He also had trepidations about dealing with death. In a letter to a friend that had just lost his mother Steinbeck shares a feeling of inadequacy that most of us feel when he says, ‘there’s nothing for the outsider to do except stand by and maybe indicate that the person involved is not so alone as the death always makes him think he is.’
In an April 29, 1948 letter he says he’s about to embark on a marathon book about the Salinas Valley, the one he’s been training for all of his life.
And it becomes obvious that Steinbeck used a long gestation period to work up to that major project, for it was more than two years later, August 30, 1950, when he again mentions the Salinas Valley story. Apparently though he was still on track and moving toward the beginning of that new work.
Then in a letter written to Mr. and Mrs. Elia Kazan from Nantucket July 30, 1951 Steinbeck indicates that he is presently six hundred pages into the book, but still has three or four hundred pages to go. And in that letter he announced the title as East of Eden. He also goes on to tell how perfect it is for the book. It comes from the first sixteen verses of the Fourth Chapter of Genesis. The title comes from the sixteenth verse, but he says the whole passage is applicable.
In a letter April 18, 1952 he mentions Kazan and the House Un-American Activities Committee. Said he read Kazan’s full statement to the congress and hoped that the communist and second raters don’t cut him to pieces.
Then on June 17, 1952 he said Kazan called that morning from Paris and was absolutely crazy about East of Eden and wants to do it. He also said the American communist and the Hollywood left had done their best to destroy him. His conscience was clear though for he had only given the facts to the congress and he could live with that truth.
In 1955 Elia Kazan produced and directed the film, East of Eden.
Steinbeck was always generous in sharing, his thoughts and some of the methods he used when writing, with other writers.
A letter dated December 7, 1956 he said, ‘…the more one learns about writing, the more unbelievably difficult it becomes. I wish to God I knew as much about my craft, or what ever it is, as I did when I was 19 years old. But with every new attempt, frightening though it may be, is the wonder and the hope and the delight.’
In a letter written to Kazan on October 14, 1958 he sums up his love for writing. ‘…I like to write. I like it better than anything. That’s why neither theatre nor movies really deeply interest me. It’s the fresh clear sentence or thought going down on paper for the first time that makes me pleased and fulfilled.’
Those are just a few notes from a writer’s perspective that I came away with and I’m sure you’ll come away with a set of your own.
The book is so rich in day to day living that you almost forget that you are in the presence of a man that over his writing career had won a room full of awards along with the Nobel Prize for literature in 1962.
Tom Barnes author of The Goring Collection.
Read
November 10, 2020“It is cold and clear here now — the leaves all fallen from the trees and only the frogs are very happy. Great cheering sections of frogs singing all the time. The earth is moist and water is seeping out of the ground everywhere. So we go into this happy new year, knowing that our species has learned nothing, can, as a race, learn nothing — that the experience of ten thousand years has made no impression on the instincts of the million years that proceeded. Maybe you can find some vague theology that will give you hope. Not that I have lost any hope. All the goodness and the heroisms will rise up again, then be cut down again and rise up. It isn’t that the evil thing wins — it never will — but that it doesn’t die. I don’t know why we should expect it to. It seems fairly obvious that two sides of a mirror are required before one has a mirror, that two forces are necessary in man before he is man.”
“You said that this was my home but I have thought about it deeply. I think I have no “place” home. Home is people and where you work well. I have homes everywhere and many I have not even seen yet. That is perhaps why I am restless. I haven’t seen all of my homes. “
“Darling you only know me as the Play Boy, young, darling, rich, handsome, slicked back hair and one button shirt — a beautiful dancer and the ideal fourth at bridge. You have only seen me weekends at house parties in my flannels and two-tone shoes — leaping over the net to congratulate the loser. I wonder if you would recognize me tonight-successful, graying at the temples— stern, just, a friend to cherish, an enemy to fear, incisive of speech, analytic by temperament, controlled, a thinking machine.
No, I doubt whether you would know me. I have one other side. A shit. (I said it first.) “
“Miguel Cervantes invented the modern novel and with his
Don Quixote set a mark high and bright. In his prologue, he
said best what writers feel — the gladness and the terror.
“Idling reader,” Cervantes wrote, “you may believe me when I tell you that I should have liked this book, which is the child of my brain, to be the fairest, the sprightliest and the cleverest that could be imagined, but I have not been able to contravene the law of nature which would have it that like begets like — ”
And so it is with me, Pat. Although some times I have felt that I held fire in my hands and spread a page with shining — I have never lost the weight of clumsiness, of ignorance, of aching inability.
A book is like a man — clever and dull, brave and cowardly, beautiful and ugly. For every flowering thought there will be a page like a wet and mangy mongrel, and for every looping flight a tap on the wing and a reminder that wax cannot hold the feathers firm too near the sun.
Well — then the book is done. It has no virtue any more. The writer wants to cry out — “Bring it back! Let me rewrite it or better — Let me burn it. Don’t let it out in the unfriendly cold in that condition.”
“You said that this was my home but I have thought about it deeply. I think I have no “place” home. Home is people and where you work well. I have homes everywhere and many I have not even seen yet. That is perhaps why I am restless. I haven’t seen all of my homes. “
“Darling you only know me as the Play Boy, young, darling, rich, handsome, slicked back hair and one button shirt — a beautiful dancer and the ideal fourth at bridge. You have only seen me weekends at house parties in my flannels and two-tone shoes — leaping over the net to congratulate the loser. I wonder if you would recognize me tonight-successful, graying at the temples— stern, just, a friend to cherish, an enemy to fear, incisive of speech, analytic by temperament, controlled, a thinking machine.
No, I doubt whether you would know me. I have one other side. A shit. (I said it first.) “
“Miguel Cervantes invented the modern novel and with his
Don Quixote set a mark high and bright. In his prologue, he
said best what writers feel — the gladness and the terror.
“Idling reader,” Cervantes wrote, “you may believe me when I tell you that I should have liked this book, which is the child of my brain, to be the fairest, the sprightliest and the cleverest that could be imagined, but I have not been able to contravene the law of nature which would have it that like begets like — ”
And so it is with me, Pat. Although some times I have felt that I held fire in my hands and spread a page with shining — I have never lost the weight of clumsiness, of ignorance, of aching inability.
A book is like a man — clever and dull, brave and cowardly, beautiful and ugly. For every flowering thought there will be a page like a wet and mangy mongrel, and for every looping flight a tap on the wing and a reminder that wax cannot hold the feathers firm too near the sun.
Well — then the book is done. It has no virtue any more. The writer wants to cry out — “Bring it back! Let me rewrite it or better — Let me burn it. Don’t let it out in the unfriendly cold in that condition.”
May 11, 2018
I remember gasping when I opened the box and saw the book was almost two inches thick. I remember carrying it with me on a bus to Toronto. I remember after spending the days chasing down little kids that did not want to: eat, nap, or stop picking on their siblings, i would crash into my bed at night and read John's beautiful correspondences. I told a friend the language that John Steinbeck used at twenty-three writing casually to his friends will make you feel like a moron. I fell in love with him. I really did. It wasn't like reading the words of a dead person. You felt as though you could have looked him up in the white pages and if you called him, he would have been glad to hear from you. He was so down to earth, humorous and falliable. He wasn't a god. He was a guy that went hungry in NYC, and was true to his friends(and inspired friends to be true to him too), he was this guy whose creative writing teacher did not think was talented, who never graduated university, who had a hell of a time selling his work and felt like a failure and fraud. He made me feel as though this thing called writing I could do. And this thing of love and life too. I consider him a mentor. A book that saved my life.
August 12, 2016
Steinbeck never got around to writing an autobiography. He mooted it many times but the impulses never energized him to write about himself or to frame his life within a narrative structure.
This massive project is the equivalent, perhaps better, than conscious self conceptualization because it catches Steinbeck at his most unguarded. Hundreds of letters were gathered just after his death to complete this project, and there are countless gems within its pages. In fact, Steinbeck was our most elegant reflector on the writing process itself, particularly in the agonies of self doubt and the difficulties of finding one's way through to the end product. It's a great book to read with patience and in small doses over an extended period of time especially, as a handful of pages can't possibly go by without a highly quotable moment or insight into writing and Steinbeck's writing in particular. Essential for Steinbeck fans and those interested in the writing process.
This massive project is the equivalent, perhaps better, than conscious self conceptualization because it catches Steinbeck at his most unguarded. Hundreds of letters were gathered just after his death to complete this project, and there are countless gems within its pages. In fact, Steinbeck was our most elegant reflector on the writing process itself, particularly in the agonies of self doubt and the difficulties of finding one's way through to the end product. It's a great book to read with patience and in small doses over an extended period of time especially, as a handful of pages can't possibly go by without a highly quotable moment or insight into writing and Steinbeck's writing in particular. Essential for Steinbeck fans and those interested in the writing process.
Read
November 7, 2014This is the kind of book you own and pick it up and read randomly every night or day. I absolutely loved it but had to give it back to the library :(. I admit that the only Steinbeck I've read is Of Mice and Men...but oh, how fascinating to read about his life in his own words! Amazing!
March 20, 2018
Recommended as a "staff pick" by the worker at the book store in Pacific Grove.
The trip to Pacific Grove, learned that that little coastal town that I had never been to was really integral to the John Steinbeck story. Yes he was born and raised in Salinas. Yes, his childhood Victorian remains there and can be visited and also, in the center of town, is the imposing "International Steinbeck Center." Yet to read his letters, one sees how his life evolved around Salinas and most happily, and most productively, along the coast particularly in Pacific Grove and Monterey.
Monterey, of course, is the setting for Cannery Row and Sweet Thursday. Tortilla Flat is nearby. Ed Ricketts had his biological lab/hangout there which was the starting place for the Sea of Cortez adventuring and writing.
HIs heart, though, really feels like it was in Pacific Grove.
The town was part of his life since he was a kid as it was the place his family had a summer home. And it is to this home he returns with his first wife, then briefly with his second wife, then between wife two and three, meeting wife three while he is in that house (when she comes up to chaperone Anne Southern (who wanted to own him) and the two are staying at the Pine Inn in Carmel.)
And as he says in his later life, he intended to stay in PG after his second wife left--but he didn't belong there and really felt now that he didn't belong anywhere. He mentions, though, that he felt most at home in Somerset where he delved in the the Mallory and King Arthur.
Perhaps where he belonged was a cottage in a small, slow paced town. Also find it cool that he felt so at home in England, something I think I--a fellow NorCaler--would also feel.
Also he talks in the letters of the closeness to the water In Pacific Grove and he often returns to water and being near it in the letters. Very likely his home in Sag's Harbor and that little town were East Coast versions of Pacific Grove and his home there.
Also interesting the thing about his name--apparently "Steinbeck" means something like "Stone Brook". In the 1958 letter (page 589) where he discusses this he talks about water on rocks, as you would have in a stone brook but also what you have just off the coast of Pacific Grove. The water consistently pounding the rocks is perhaps the most powerful and distinctive feature of Pacific Grove.
And other books are set near the sea: e.g. The Pearl.
I think Steinbeck's power/importance comes from what he did--with his life and his writing career--rather than because he was a great and clever writer.
The Grapes of Wrath was an important book, for example, written about an important event--but for Steinbeck, it feels to me, it was largely a rehashing of the observation and reporting he'd been doing for the newspapers. Minimal addition of creativity to create characters and a bare semblance of the simplest of a sort of plot.
In East of Eden, he takes on Salinas but in a sort of copy of his autobiography, channel some anger at his second wife and just go with it, way.
Possibly, Of Mice and Men was his greatest book. A 1938 letter to Clare Luce, the actress playing Curley's wife in the stage version, also showed John's greatness. In the letter he gives the back story to the character, how she felt, how she had grown up, how she had learned to come across as sexual so she could be "seen," but that--though married--her actual sexual pleasure may have been nil. Her husband not having any interest, and would not have considered important, her pleasure.
[Another reasons I think John's books are less than great, he rarely puts the backstory/thoughts by/of his characters into the books!]
Would I have liked him? Not sure; he seemed a man of his time, twenty years older than the WWII fighters and we all know how sexist that group was.
He has a hard time, even by 1960, seeing past women as needed really just for sex.
And he needs them for sex. Cute the way he explains that between wives one and two, hanging in Pacific Grove, he has 8 women who periodically come to visit. Two were pretty, two were intelligent (of course no one woman could be both) three were something else (and all of these women could be wife material) and only one was a whore--but she was the sweetest, nicest one of the bunch.
It seemed from his wives he expected the sex, of course, and frequently . Then help with typing, editing, earning some extra money (all with Carol) but when it came to just hanging around with someone with different ideas and desires--he'd grit his teeth and go along when he could (e.g. re decorating decisions) but seemed he could get easily unhappy with other pressures with no real willingness to discuss the situation and why it was important to the wife (e.g. Carol wanting a baby).
So interesting how he spends so much time and effort (even to living and traveling in England and Europe for more than a year to work on it and research it)--and enjoys so much--work on the Mallory King Arthur stuff yet never publishes it in his lifetime. From the outside, he should not have spent the time and effort therefore. (Hard to imagine what he was doing would find an audience especially after the T.S. White Once and Future King came out and Camelot went on Broadway, both at around the same time. ) But he loved it so much, clearly, and felt so at home in Somerset--so from the inside it was absolutely the right thing to do.
About ten years from the end of his life he has his first major health incident. Then, ten years later when he dies its found he'd had clogged arteries for a long time.
During the last ten years he does talk as if death is close and that he is not a fully healthy person and that he's a bit limited in what he can do--yet he does so much, almost like a robotic man!
He travels around Europe with his sons, even if he has to linger awhile in Capri. He travels America and writes Travels with Charley, he lives in Somerset to write and research the Arthur, he writes Winter of our Discontent, He gets the Nobel and goes to Stockholm, he tours Russia on a good will tour, and more.
Re the inheritance. Interesting how these things work. From the outside, of course the blood children should have inherited something substantive, as with Jack London's daughters--that's how it looks.
Yet from the view of the wife--not only one she be legally entitled to half of whatever was earned during his life, if in a Community Property state--but with both John and Jack the wife:
a. Was a good handler of what she inherited and increased the size of the estate considerably all on her own; and
b. the children were peripheral to her, if anything something that may have made her life less fun. In the case of the Steinbeck boys, simply because they were boys and would see no need to pay special affection or attention to the woman who replaced their mother. With the Jack London daughters, programed to dislike by their own mother, they saw the wife as an enemy.
Finally, some words about Steinbeck country.
Interesting to hear him report how poorly he was liked while alive after he started writing, and after he dumped Carol.
When he returns to the area with his second wife, the two are literally cut off socially, so have to leave.
When Grapes of Wrath came out the Salinas librarians, long time friends of his parents, were glad his parents were dead to not be insulted. (The Salinas farmers were the people most impacted by the Oakie immigrants.)
As John says in one of the letters--it will not be his country until after he dies. And he was so right.
The trip to Pacific Grove, learned that that little coastal town that I had never been to was really integral to the John Steinbeck story. Yes he was born and raised in Salinas. Yes, his childhood Victorian remains there and can be visited and also, in the center of town, is the imposing "International Steinbeck Center." Yet to read his letters, one sees how his life evolved around Salinas and most happily, and most productively, along the coast particularly in Pacific Grove and Monterey.
Monterey, of course, is the setting for Cannery Row and Sweet Thursday. Tortilla Flat is nearby. Ed Ricketts had his biological lab/hangout there which was the starting place for the Sea of Cortez adventuring and writing.
HIs heart, though, really feels like it was in Pacific Grove.
The town was part of his life since he was a kid as it was the place his family had a summer home. And it is to this home he returns with his first wife, then briefly with his second wife, then between wife two and three, meeting wife three while he is in that house (when she comes up to chaperone Anne Southern (who wanted to own him) and the two are staying at the Pine Inn in Carmel.)
And as he says in his later life, he intended to stay in PG after his second wife left--but he didn't belong there and really felt now that he didn't belong anywhere. He mentions, though, that he felt most at home in Somerset where he delved in the the Mallory and King Arthur.
Perhaps where he belonged was a cottage in a small, slow paced town. Also find it cool that he felt so at home in England, something I think I--a fellow NorCaler--would also feel.
Also he talks in the letters of the closeness to the water In Pacific Grove and he often returns to water and being near it in the letters. Very likely his home in Sag's Harbor and that little town were East Coast versions of Pacific Grove and his home there.
Also interesting the thing about his name--apparently "Steinbeck" means something like "Stone Brook". In the 1958 letter (page 589) where he discusses this he talks about water on rocks, as you would have in a stone brook but also what you have just off the coast of Pacific Grove. The water consistently pounding the rocks is perhaps the most powerful and distinctive feature of Pacific Grove.
And other books are set near the sea: e.g. The Pearl.
I think Steinbeck's power/importance comes from what he did--with his life and his writing career--rather than because he was a great and clever writer.
The Grapes of Wrath was an important book, for example, written about an important event--but for Steinbeck, it feels to me, it was largely a rehashing of the observation and reporting he'd been doing for the newspapers. Minimal addition of creativity to create characters and a bare semblance of the simplest of a sort of plot.
In East of Eden, he takes on Salinas but in a sort of copy of his autobiography, channel some anger at his second wife and just go with it, way.
Possibly, Of Mice and Men was his greatest book. A 1938 letter to Clare Luce, the actress playing Curley's wife in the stage version, also showed John's greatness. In the letter he gives the back story to the character, how she felt, how she had grown up, how she had learned to come across as sexual so she could be "seen," but that--though married--her actual sexual pleasure may have been nil. Her husband not having any interest, and would not have considered important, her pleasure.
[Another reasons I think John's books are less than great, he rarely puts the backstory/thoughts by/of his characters into the books!]
Would I have liked him? Not sure; he seemed a man of his time, twenty years older than the WWII fighters and we all know how sexist that group was.
He has a hard time, even by 1960, seeing past women as needed really just for sex.
And he needs them for sex. Cute the way he explains that between wives one and two, hanging in Pacific Grove, he has 8 women who periodically come to visit. Two were pretty, two were intelligent (of course no one woman could be both) three were something else (and all of these women could be wife material) and only one was a whore--but she was the sweetest, nicest one of the bunch.
It seemed from his wives he expected the sex, of course, and frequently . Then help with typing, editing, earning some extra money (all with Carol) but when it came to just hanging around with someone with different ideas and desires--he'd grit his teeth and go along when he could (e.g. re decorating decisions) but seemed he could get easily unhappy with other pressures with no real willingness to discuss the situation and why it was important to the wife (e.g. Carol wanting a baby).
So interesting how he spends so much time and effort (even to living and traveling in England and Europe for more than a year to work on it and research it)--and enjoys so much--work on the Mallory King Arthur stuff yet never publishes it in his lifetime. From the outside, he should not have spent the time and effort therefore. (Hard to imagine what he was doing would find an audience especially after the T.S. White Once and Future King came out and Camelot went on Broadway, both at around the same time. ) But he loved it so much, clearly, and felt so at home in Somerset--so from the inside it was absolutely the right thing to do.
About ten years from the end of his life he has his first major health incident. Then, ten years later when he dies its found he'd had clogged arteries for a long time.
During the last ten years he does talk as if death is close and that he is not a fully healthy person and that he's a bit limited in what he can do--yet he does so much, almost like a robotic man!
He travels around Europe with his sons, even if he has to linger awhile in Capri. He travels America and writes Travels with Charley, he lives in Somerset to write and research the Arthur, he writes Winter of our Discontent, He gets the Nobel and goes to Stockholm, he tours Russia on a good will tour, and more.
Re the inheritance. Interesting how these things work. From the outside, of course the blood children should have inherited something substantive, as with Jack London's daughters--that's how it looks.
Yet from the view of the wife--not only one she be legally entitled to half of whatever was earned during his life, if in a Community Property state--but with both John and Jack the wife:
a. Was a good handler of what she inherited and increased the size of the estate considerably all on her own; and
b. the children were peripheral to her, if anything something that may have made her life less fun. In the case of the Steinbeck boys, simply because they were boys and would see no need to pay special affection or attention to the woman who replaced their mother. With the Jack London daughters, programed to dislike by their own mother, they saw the wife as an enemy.
Finally, some words about Steinbeck country.
Interesting to hear him report how poorly he was liked while alive after he started writing, and after he dumped Carol.
When he returns to the area with his second wife, the two are literally cut off socially, so have to leave.
When Grapes of Wrath came out the Salinas librarians, long time friends of his parents, were glad his parents were dead to not be insulted. (The Salinas farmers were the people most impacted by the Oakie immigrants.)
As John says in one of the letters--it will not be his country until after he dies. And he was so right.
March 7, 2024
i need to start writing an obscene amount of letters so someone can make a massive book of my life when i die. i liked the first half of the book more just because i love the way steinbeck talks about northern California.
August 24, 2023
Just read his famous letter to his son.
January 5, 2024
A joy to read!
October 24, 2014
Well, he's in here--warts and all. This is a hugely large collection but it seldom lags. I read it in short, concentrated doses over the course of a couple of months. Very enlightening and endlessly fascinating. I learned quite a bit about the man, the writer, the process, and the world as he saw it. My greatest disappointment: So many times I wanted to hear both sides of the epistolary conversation, but that's not generally how these things work. My greatest sadness at its end: That he never finished his Malory/Morte d'Arthur book to his satisfaction. What a masterpiece he might have given us there. I'm left with a deeply felt need to re-read the version of the story that he did leave--the one published posthumously. I'll read it as a tribute to a great writer whose greatest dream went ultimately unfulfilled. I'll read it to share in his excitement at the Arthur legend, and to again become a willing captive to its power myself. Then I'll begin to re-read the masterpieces he did complete and learn all over again why I love them so much. If you have more than a passing interest in John Steinbeck, the man, his work, his worldview, this collection is essential reading for you.
December 30, 2016
I don't just love this book because I love Steinbeck -- I think anybody who wants to be a writer should read it. From the very first letter to the last Steinbeck talks about his process of writing and how his work defines every day of his life. It's amazing and inspiring and I am so grateful that people used to write letters like this and that records of people's lives exist in this way. It makes me sad that the best modern equivalent we have is someone's blog or Facebook page. We should all be writing letters.
Steinbeck: A Life in Letters blew me away and I am so, so glad it's the last thing I read in my 2016 Steinbeck challenge. I got an autobiography that reminded me of every published work of Steinbeck's I read this year, and an intimate look at a man who fascinates me. I have a biography I was going to read after I finished, but I don't think I need to anymore. This is the perfect ending.
Steinbeck: A Life in Letters blew me away and I am so, so glad it's the last thing I read in my 2016 Steinbeck challenge. I got an autobiography that reminded me of every published work of Steinbeck's I read this year, and an intimate look at a man who fascinates me. I have a biography I was going to read after I finished, but I don't think I need to anymore. This is the perfect ending.
July 31, 2008
This is an odd book to have on a list of personal standouts, but it's there because, quite apart from being a terrific collection of correspondence from a man who dealt with everything including his own psyche by expressing it in writing to other people, I happened to be reading it during a very bad and lonely patch and suddenly found him articulating exactly what I was feeling and going through. I can still remember the revelation and the relief of discovering someone else had been there and made it to the other side: it was just as Alan Bennett describes in THE HISTORY BOYS, the feeling that someone has reached a hand up - in this case quite a big strong hand - out of the pages to grasp yours, and I still feel grateful to Steinbeck in a weirdly personal way for that reassurance.
June 26, 2012
Say what you may about the accessability of today's digital correspondence, but there's something about the letters of a bygone era that you simply don't see today. I was struck by this passage in a letter from Steinbeck to his friend and Manhattan neighbor, film director Elia Kazan: "And then, without announcement they (words) began assembling quietly and they slipped down my pencil to the paper... My love and respect and homage for my language is coming back. Here are proud words and sharp words and words as dainty as little girls and stone words needing no adjectives as crutches. And they join hands and dance beauty on the paper." Damn, that's good.
May 1, 2021
Update 05-01-2021. I'm going to have to give this book at least 1 star, only because it makes me crazy when I see books with no stars in my stats and then I have to investigate to see if I forgot to plug in a rating and/or a review.
-----------------------------
I can’t really rate this book of letters because, for me personally, all the talk of his writing was boring and I had to skim for what is interesting to me: Day to Day living. Other readers might be the opposite.
I did enjoy reading about his travels throughout America, Europe and Asia. Too bad he never made it to Africa.
-----------------------------
I can’t really rate this book of letters because, for me personally, all the talk of his writing was boring and I had to skim for what is interesting to me: Day to Day living. Other readers might be the opposite.
I did enjoy reading about his travels throughout America, Europe and Asia. Too bad he never made it to Africa.
Read
February 15, 2022If you're interested in who a writer really is, you'll love this book.
April 14, 2020
A 4.5
Steinbeck is one of my all time favs. I was gifted this book years ago, but had avoided it. I think I was afraid I would find it dull. But it is nowhere close to dull. It reads more honest than an autobiography could. Day by day, year by year Steinbeck's thoughts are revealed. It makes me all the more interested to read the rest of his books.
Here are some reactions/observations I had:
He knew To a God Unknown was a great book and kept with it - and he was right!
Feeling like he was a failure at 26.
Trying to be an artist during the Great Depression - no one had money to buy books.
People kept trying to compare him to Hemingway - I have read most works by both artists, and I just don't see it.
What a typical a-hole male. Gets rich, starts cheating on his wife, and leaves her for someone 10 years younger.
He never seemed satisfied where he lived. Bounced around all over the country, then the world.
He had a kind heart and action for helping those in need.
He and his wives sure seemed to get sick a lot. In most years there are weeks where he talks about being so sick he can't write. Was that more normal in the past?
He didn't seem to know what he wanted in a women. (Not a judgement, just an observation)
Knowing that East of Eden was going to be his magnum opus years in advance.
I love the fake commencement speech (May 16th, 1956). It could be given today.
His obsession with King Arthur, that burned so bright, then went out.
I loved the notes to his Russian handlers.
His change to support the Vietnam war is curious. Maybe to convince himself that his son was doing something worthwhile?
Huge observation about humanity from page 833: " 'What is' cannot compete with what we want it to be." We are willing to blind ourselves with lies in order to keep self-delusions up.
Overall the book left me with a deeper understanding of his writing, and a deeper appreciation for him as a writer. He was far from an angel, but angels don't exist. He faced great pressure early on for writing about how things were vs. how people wanted to things to be. In doing so, he helped shape writing in the 20th century. He was willing to write what he wanted, fiction, nonfiction, plays, movies etc. He seemed very comfortable being himself.
Steinbeck is one of my all time favs. I was gifted this book years ago, but had avoided it. I think I was afraid I would find it dull. But it is nowhere close to dull. It reads more honest than an autobiography could. Day by day, year by year Steinbeck's thoughts are revealed. It makes me all the more interested to read the rest of his books.
Here are some reactions/observations I had:
He knew To a God Unknown was a great book and kept with it - and he was right!
Feeling like he was a failure at 26.
Trying to be an artist during the Great Depression - no one had money to buy books.
People kept trying to compare him to Hemingway - I have read most works by both artists, and I just don't see it.
What a typical a-hole male. Gets rich, starts cheating on his wife, and leaves her for someone 10 years younger.
He never seemed satisfied where he lived. Bounced around all over the country, then the world.
He had a kind heart and action for helping those in need.
He and his wives sure seemed to get sick a lot. In most years there are weeks where he talks about being so sick he can't write. Was that more normal in the past?
He didn't seem to know what he wanted in a women. (Not a judgement, just an observation)
Knowing that East of Eden was going to be his magnum opus years in advance.
I love the fake commencement speech (May 16th, 1956). It could be given today.
His obsession with King Arthur, that burned so bright, then went out.
I loved the notes to his Russian handlers.
His change to support the Vietnam war is curious. Maybe to convince himself that his son was doing something worthwhile?
Huge observation about humanity from page 833: " 'What is' cannot compete with what we want it to be." We are willing to blind ourselves with lies in order to keep self-delusions up.
Overall the book left me with a deeper understanding of his writing, and a deeper appreciation for him as a writer. He was far from an angel, but angels don't exist. He faced great pressure early on for writing about how things were vs. how people wanted to things to be. In doing so, he helped shape writing in the 20th century. He was willing to write what he wanted, fiction, nonfiction, plays, movies etc. He seemed very comfortable being himself.
January 7, 2024
Mektuplarda Bir Yaşam, John Steinbeck'in mektuplarının toplandığı bir eser. Fakat içeriği açısından bir biyografi niteliği taşıyor diyebilirim. Düzenleyenler Steinbeck'e öldükten sonra mektuplarıyla bir biyografi yazdırmışlar. Ama o kadar uğraşmışlar ki hayranlık duymamak elde değil.
Steinbeck 20. yüzyılın en iyi Amerikalı yazarlarından. Amerikalı yazarları pek okuyamasam da kitapları beni çok etkilemişti. Karşılaştırma yapmak istemem ama Ernest Hemingway'in eserleri beni pek sarmamıştı. Ama John Steinbeck okumayı hep sevdiğimi anımsıyorum. Herkes için "Fareler ve İnsanlar" bir başyapıtken benim içinse "Gazap Üzümleri"nin hep ayrı bir yeri oldu. Mektupları okuyunca "Gazap Üzümleri"ni tekrar okumak istedim. Muhtemelen de okuyacağım. Ama diğer kitaplarını da kısa süre sonra okuyacağımı düşünüyorum.
Bahsetmem gerekirse Steinbeck "aşırı gerçek" cümleleriyle aslında pek çok eleştiriye kurban gidiyor. Mektuplarda birisinin "iki ki ailen hayatını kaybetmiş yoksa çok utanırlardı" tarzında bir cümle dahi okumuştum. Buna rağmen elbette onu, edebiyatını anlayanlar da oluyor ve kitapları pek çok kez sinemaya uyarlanıyor. Ayrıca mektuplarda Steinbeck'in üç ayrı evliliğini de okuyoruz. Çocuklarıyla ilişkisini, en derin düşüncelerini okuyoruz. Aslında bir açıdan da bu yüzden mektup okumayı çok sevmişimdir.
Kitaba ilk başladığımda Steinbeck'in yüzünü pek hatırlayamıyordum o yüzden biraz yabancı hissediyordum. Ama okudukça ve sonradan fotoğraflarına baktıkça iyice benimsedim ve hiç yabancılık çekmeden kitabı sonlandırdım. Okumam birkaç gün sürdüğü ve bu süre bana birden çok kısa geldiği için canım sıkılmadı değil. Çünkü yaşamını okuduğum bir yazarın birden ölümüne geldim ve ardından son mektubunu okudum. Yaşam o an çok kısa geldi. Steinbeck'in yarım asırdan fazla süren yaşamına sadece ama sadece birkaç günde tanıklık etmek ve sonra hayatımdan uçup gitmesi beni biraz hüzünlendirdi.
Kitabın çok az okunması olduğunu gördüm ve açıkçası üzüldüm. Mektup okumak benim hep hoşuma gitmiştir. Günümüz yazarlarının mektuplarını okuyamayacak olmak da hep hüzünlendirmiştir. Ama Steinbeck gibi bir yazarın mektuplarını böyle güzel bir düzenlemeyle okuyor olmak gerçekten büyük bir şans. Seven, ilgilenen herkesin okumak isteyeceği ve keyif alacağı bir kitap olduğunu düşünüyorum. O yüzden de kesinlikle tavsiye ediyorum.
Sevgiler.
Steinbeck 20. yüzyılın en iyi Amerikalı yazarlarından. Amerikalı yazarları pek okuyamasam da kitapları beni çok etkilemişti. Karşılaştırma yapmak istemem ama Ernest Hemingway'in eserleri beni pek sarmamıştı. Ama John Steinbeck okumayı hep sevdiğimi anımsıyorum. Herkes için "Fareler ve İnsanlar" bir başyapıtken benim içinse "Gazap Üzümleri"nin hep ayrı bir yeri oldu. Mektupları okuyunca "Gazap Üzümleri"ni tekrar okumak istedim. Muhtemelen de okuyacağım. Ama diğer kitaplarını da kısa süre sonra okuyacağımı düşünüyorum.
Bahsetmem gerekirse Steinbeck "aşırı gerçek" cümleleriyle aslında pek çok eleştiriye kurban gidiyor. Mektuplarda birisinin "iki ki ailen hayatını kaybetmiş yoksa çok utanırlardı" tarzında bir cümle dahi okumuştum. Buna rağmen elbette onu, edebiyatını anlayanlar da oluyor ve kitapları pek çok kez sinemaya uyarlanıyor. Ayrıca mektuplarda Steinbeck'in üç ayrı evliliğini de okuyoruz. Çocuklarıyla ilişkisini, en derin düşüncelerini okuyoruz. Aslında bir açıdan da bu yüzden mektup okumayı çok sevmişimdir.
Kitaba ilk başladığımda Steinbeck'in yüzünü pek hatırlayamıyordum o yüzden biraz yabancı hissediyordum. Ama okudukça ve sonradan fotoğraflarına baktıkça iyice benimsedim ve hiç yabancılık çekmeden kitabı sonlandırdım. Okumam birkaç gün sürdüğü ve bu süre bana birden çok kısa geldiği için canım sıkılmadı değil. Çünkü yaşamını okuduğum bir yazarın birden ölümüne geldim ve ardından son mektubunu okudum. Yaşam o an çok kısa geldi. Steinbeck'in yarım asırdan fazla süren yaşamına sadece ama sadece birkaç günde tanıklık etmek ve sonra hayatımdan uçup gitmesi beni biraz hüzünlendirdi.
Kitabın çok az okunması olduğunu gördüm ve açıkçası üzüldüm. Mektup okumak benim hep hoşuma gitmiştir. Günümüz yazarlarının mektuplarını okuyamayacak olmak da hep hüzünlendirmiştir. Ama Steinbeck gibi bir yazarın mektuplarını böyle güzel bir düzenlemeyle okuyor olmak gerçekten büyük bir şans. Seven, ilgilenen herkesin okumak isteyeceği ve keyif alacağı bir kitap olduğunu düşünüyorum. O yüzden de kesinlikle tavsiye ediyorum.
Sevgiler.
August 20, 2018
Every now and then if you enjoy reading and writing and you have a little bit of luck on your side you will encounter something so good it just totally cracks you open and helps you see things differently and better. In my life I have experienced this process four times and each time it is new and still very recognizable the moment it starts.
The fourth time was recently and it warrants a small note. This old battered collection of correspondence from the life of John Steinbeck accompanied me on the road and shined a bright light on many lonesome moments that are an inherent side effect of roaming journeys like the sort I have been on since June. I began this 900 page tome at midnight in Austin, Texas in a stranger's living room and finished it today in a mountain valley in Arizona where I have been passing the time at a small ranch on the outskirts of Flagstaff. All in all around a month or so picking through it, at first a few pages at a time between other books, and more recently in these two or three hour long leaps that went quickly and with few blinks.
The letter is a cool literary form itself and it is one that is not seen or experimented with very often anymore, a rather ironic casualty of the Age of Communication. This is sad because a letter is maybe the truest instance of a mindful transaction between one consciousness and another that can be written down, and when collected in great number like this (especially from a mind as precise and forward thinking as John Steinbeck's) it has a way of catching the motion of a person and their time like very few other things are able to do.
Anyway that's about all. This was a good one and I recommend it, more so for fans of Steinbeck's fiction (The Grapes of Wrath, East of Eden, Of Mice and Men, In Dubious Battle, Cannery Row, The Moon is Down, or Sweet Thursday being fine access points). A particular highlight from this collection that comes readily to mind is from a letter to his then 14 year old son Thomas in which he writes: "The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it, and don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens—The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away."
The fourth time was recently and it warrants a small note. This old battered collection of correspondence from the life of John Steinbeck accompanied me on the road and shined a bright light on many lonesome moments that are an inherent side effect of roaming journeys like the sort I have been on since June. I began this 900 page tome at midnight in Austin, Texas in a stranger's living room and finished it today in a mountain valley in Arizona where I have been passing the time at a small ranch on the outskirts of Flagstaff. All in all around a month or so picking through it, at first a few pages at a time between other books, and more recently in these two or three hour long leaps that went quickly and with few blinks.
The letter is a cool literary form itself and it is one that is not seen or experimented with very often anymore, a rather ironic casualty of the Age of Communication. This is sad because a letter is maybe the truest instance of a mindful transaction between one consciousness and another that can be written down, and when collected in great number like this (especially from a mind as precise and forward thinking as John Steinbeck's) it has a way of catching the motion of a person and their time like very few other things are able to do.
Anyway that's about all. This was a good one and I recommend it, more so for fans of Steinbeck's fiction (The Grapes of Wrath, East of Eden, Of Mice and Men, In Dubious Battle, Cannery Row, The Moon is Down, or Sweet Thursday being fine access points). A particular highlight from this collection that comes readily to mind is from a letter to his then 14 year old son Thomas in which he writes: "The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it, and don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens—The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away."
February 14, 2019
Sage advice from Steinbeck's letter to his son in boarding school, on this Feb 14:
New York
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.
But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
New York
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.
But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
April 28, 2021
New York
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.
But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First — if you are in love — that’s a good thing — that’s about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don’t let anyone make it small or light to you.
Second — There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you — of kindness and consideration and respect — not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply — of course it isn’t puppy love.
But I don’t think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it — and that I can tell you.
Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone — there is no possible harm in saying so — only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another — but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.
Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I’m glad you have it.
We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.
And don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.
Love,
Fa
February 28, 2018
There is a want to say the most perfect thing as it was one of the best reads of my life. A Five Star for sure. The fact that it is through his letters to others makes it all that much more precious. It is a very intimate and detailed portrait of a Great man. It progresses slowly and offers the feel of sitting on a train with John sitting across from you sharing his life story as you go along. His voice is strong, yet gentle and kind and does not rush to tell things, but profoundly makes his points. You get a tour and view of the world through his eyes as if you are looking out the train window and seeing everything he says come to life and fade away with each turned page. He offers wonderful advice for writers, fathers, husbands, lovers, and activists. He is not apologetic, yet is kind in his undertakings.
As the train of his life comes to an end … the progression of one’s reading slows down and a want to prolong it arises. Live longer John, live longer and say more. He does. His story lives in me now, has altered and changed the way life is seen through the intimacy he has shared and left behind. I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be changed in a rather subtle and simultaneously profound way through the reading of this writing. It has offered this mind peace, rest and relaxation, of which, very few books have ever offered. Instead of stimulating the mind it relaxes it. I cannot say enough good things about this book. Please if you do choose to read it, consider purchasing the Kindle/iBook version or a used copy as John was a lover of trees and probably would appreciate the kindness be extended to them.
As the train of his life comes to an end … the progression of one’s reading slows down and a want to prolong it arises. Live longer John, live longer and say more. He does. His story lives in me now, has altered and changed the way life is seen through the intimacy he has shared and left behind. I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t be changed in a rather subtle and simultaneously profound way through the reading of this writing. It has offered this mind peace, rest and relaxation, of which, very few books have ever offered. Instead of stimulating the mind it relaxes it. I cannot say enough good things about this book. Please if you do choose to read it, consider purchasing the Kindle/iBook version or a used copy as John was a lover of trees and probably would appreciate the kindness be extended to them.
December 28, 2017
So happy to have gotten to see a glimpse of his early life. The book went much farther but I'm stopping now. I'm no prude, it isn't that he is going to break up his marriage. It is the realization that men have their breaking point. Women and men need what that are missing and cannot be satisfied any other way, then, ...they ..we get greedy...I liked that he accepted poverty. It never got him down, not like money did. But the money just gave him the opportunity to want more. It's greed, not money or love or whatever the need is, its the greed of wanting something, someone at the expense of anything, anyone else. I've had enough and I'll end my time with J. Steinbeck there. Go on out and read some of his early books, from a simpler man.
July 12, 2022
It's always interesting to read this type of book, even about people you don't really know. Although I am of course familiar with Steinbeck and have read some of his work, he's not a favorite and I can't even remember now what triggered my ordering this compendium of letters. (Borrowed through Michigan e-Library Catalog, aka MeLCat. Gotta love it!) I think it was the blurb that he communicated through letters and shunned the telephone that made me order it: these is my people! Anyway, it was an interesting peek into the mind of a writer and life from the Great Depression through the Vietnam War. At 800+ reading pages, it went amazingly fast. Good stuff.
January 22, 2024
Long, best read over a number of months taking small bites.
While some letters were of little interest, taken as a whole they give one a real insight into John's life. Incredibly poor as a struggling writer during the Depression. Confident he would produce worthwhile books. But insecure during the writing of any book, play, or article. He would waiver from confidence to despair and back during the process of writing.
The letters provided real insight to his personal life, his personality, and the breadth of friendships he had during a fascinating life.
A complex man who laid much of that complexity bare for others to see through this incredible collection of letters.
While some letters were of little interest, taken as a whole they give one a real insight into John's life. Incredibly poor as a struggling writer during the Depression. Confident he would produce worthwhile books. But insecure during the writing of any book, play, or article. He would waiver from confidence to despair and back during the process of writing.
The letters provided real insight to his personal life, his personality, and the breadth of friendships he had during a fascinating life.
A complex man who laid much of that complexity bare for others to see through this incredible collection of letters.
May 26, 2021
His life and thoughts during each book's creation are clear and he is incredibly analytical, critical and honest toward himself and his material.
Steinbeck is an avid/compulsive writer. There are close to 1000 letters here, which range from his pre-published days to the last in his life. Recipients range from old friends to new friends, publishers, artists, Broadway producers and presidents.
The letters are unedited and he isn't one to withhold his feelings from the page.
Steinbeck is an avid/compulsive writer. There are close to 1000 letters here, which range from his pre-published days to the last in his life. Recipients range from old friends to new friends, publishers, artists, Broadway producers and presidents.
The letters are unedited and he isn't one to withhold his feelings from the page.
February 16, 2024
Great letters
I really enjoyed this book. Steinbeck was big on writing letters to everyone, similar to Hunter Thompson. You get slot of information on the man and his associates. Its a fairly long read. I didn't care for sections about King Arthur or his writing in Old English/Irish.
The guy can really write some good letters. You get to read about his struggles with his stories and money.
Worth the read for any Steinbeck fan!
I really enjoyed this book. Steinbeck was big on writing letters to everyone, similar to Hunter Thompson. You get slot of information on the man and his associates. Its a fairly long read. I didn't care for sections about King Arthur or his writing in Old English/Irish.
The guy can really write some good letters. You get to read about his struggles with his stories and money.
Worth the read for any Steinbeck fan!
August 4, 2019
This was Steinbeck’s greatest work. It represents a lifetime of learning, effort, and love. He delivers deeper insight through casual letters to his favorite people than many encounter in the course of their whole lives.
I would highly recommend using tabs to mark your favorites, because you will certainly want to return to them over the years.
I would highly recommend using tabs to mark your favorites, because you will certainly want to return to them over the years.
November 24, 2019
It is hard to look at Steinbeck the same way after reading this one. I am sure he would be rolling over in his grave at the thought that these letters have been gathered and published in this format. In sharp contrast to his previously published work, this seems to show a timid, manipulative and insecure man.
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