Reading Reflections April 11-Religious Allegory, John Steinbeck, and a Grapes of Wrath for Modern Times

I'm not a fan of religious allegory in books–I wasn't raised Christian, so Biblical references tend to go over my head. To me, religious allegory is a cop-out for actual writing. Unless writing a religious novel, why would an author allude to something that's not universally known? The best works tell stories that illustrate the depths of human emotion; they're classics because everyone can relate to them. Religious stories, however, only resonate with a certain subset of people who take religion to heart, and their meanings are lost to the rest of the readers. For instance, Toni Morrison's Song of Solomon is a brilliant piece of writing. But since several key moments refer to stories that only avid Bible readers would know, the themes don't resonate nearly as much with the masses.

I recently read John Steinbeck's East of Eden based on someone's* recommendation. It's supposed to retell The Book of Genesis through multiple generations of characters. I expected a preachy narrative and a shoddy rendition of the stories of Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel. What I got instead was a brilliantly crafted multi-generational narrative, where the character parallels were obvious, but the Biblical allusion wasn't the focus. Knowing the Biblical stories is helpful to grasp Steinbeck's themes, but not knowing them wouldn't take away from enjoying the novel. That's why I liked East of Eden: it was Biblical in nature without shoving Christianity in my face, or making its most significant moments dependent on my Biblical knowledge. Instead, it leaned heavily on the human aspects of the story of Cain and Abel, such as Cain's jealousy. I would still recommend reading the story of Cain and Abel beforehand because it helps put East of Eden into perspective. Both generations of the main family include a Cain and Abel, though Steinbeck does a great job of making it obvious.

The other book I read recently was American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins. I could not put it down. American Dirt was 400 pages of gripping plot; every second I spent not reading it was a second spent thinking about it. I finished the entire book in four days!

What's the connection between American Dirt and John Steinbeck, you ask? A reviewer called Cummins's 2018 novel, "a Grapes of Wrath for our times," and I whole-heartedly agree. The story starts off with a BANG–members of a cartel in Acapulco, Mexico shoot and kill sixteen people. Lydia and her eight-year-old son Luca must escape the cartel before they're also shot to death, and the cartel boss has an interesting connection with Lydia that motivates his desire to capture her. The novel outlines the brutal path that Latin American migrants face as they make their way north toward the United States. Lydia and Luca ride atop cargo trains, bribe immigration officers, and go days with empty stomachs and thirsty mouths on their journey to the Stars and Stripes.

It's much better than The Grapes of Wrath. Unlike Steinbeck, who interrupts his narrative with full chapters of historical context, Cummins organically describes the harrowing conditions through the eyes of the characters, magnifying the human aspects of illegal immigration. I would highly recommend the read given today's current immigration discourse in the United States. If you get the chance, you should read The Grapes of Wrath in advance to compare for yourself. Even if you're not interested in Steinbeck's best-known novel, you can read it for his strong writing. I've read four of his works now, and even though some were boring at times, his Nobel Prize in Literature is well-deserved.

I'll close this edition of Reading Reflections with a best-to-worst ranking of the John Steinbeck works I've read.

1. East of Eden

2. Of Mice and Men

3. The Grapes of Wrath

4. The Pearl

A note worth mentioning: I think American Dirt is better than all of them!

*A girl I went on a date with. This is the second time that a potential love interest has given me a stellar book recommendation.