I'm beginning to clearly understand the genius of Steinbeck. He didn't just write about the plight of man during times of great distress, but he gave it great humanity and soul. Within pages, Steinbeck goes from simple grandfatherly storytelling to a plot that grips you to your gut. You hurt with the characters, you feel the physical and emotional pain of Adam. You cringe at the ignorance of Alice, and you see how cutting it is to the tender heart of her stepson. Cyrus is still a curious character to me at this point in the story. His actions are difficult to judge because his motives are unclear. I'm on to chapter Four to find out how a father deals with Charles, who has bludgeoned (with the intention of death) his brother Adam, because he feels as though his father has love for only one of his sons.
For now,
MH
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