"Cliff Notes - Grapes of Wrath, The" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cliff Notes)


Their dream may seem unreal to you. It should; life is not a fairy tale. But compare it to Grampa's vision of the future. To him California meant squeezing grapes over his head and letting the juice trickle down through his whiskers. Did Grampa know he talked nonsense? Dying on the first day hints strongly that he did.

If the youngest Joads are meant to dream, and the oldest to die, what's left for the middle generation--for Ma, Pa, Uncle John, and also Tom and Casy? Ma thinks her function is to keep the family going. She tells Al Joad, "That's all I can do. I can't do no more." Let's see how true Ma is to her word in the remainder of the chapter. When Al suggests that maybe they shouldn't have brought the preacher, Ma prophesies that Casy will help the family sometime. (Whether Casy will give the kind of help Ma needs remains to be seen.) At a roadside stop, Ma helps Granma relieve herself in the bushes (physical help). She comforts Rose of Sharon, shaken by the sight of their dog hit by a car (emotional help). Later, she fixes the food, prepares Grampa's body for burial, and agrees to ally the Joads with the Wilsons. "Each'll help each, an' we'll all git to California," she says. By the time she lays her head down to sleep, Ma has put in a solid day's work in behalf of her family.

Earlier in the day, Al pulls the Hudson into a filling station. The owner is hostile to the Joads. They aren't welcome unless they can buy gas. "Think we're beggin'?" says Al, pulling out his money. The fat owner quickly changes his attitude and nervously explains his suspicions. People "come in, use water, dirty up the toilet, an' then, by God, they'll steal stuff an' don't buy nothin'." The sweat-soaked fat man has no sympathy for the hordes of people going west. They puzzle him. "What they gonna do?" he asks. "I don't know what the country's comin' to."

Casy, ever willing to extend himself, tries to explain what, in fact, the country's comin' to: "People moving... 'cause they want somepin better'n what they got. An' that's the on'y way they'll ever git it." The man doesn't listen. He takes up his lament again: "I don't know what the country's comin' to."

Irritated, Tom tells off the fat man. "You ain't askin' nothin'; you're jus' singin' a kinda song." He scolds the man for doing nothing to improve his own lot. "Country's movin' aroun', goin' places. They's folks dyin' all aroun'. Maybe you'll die pretty soon, but you won't know nothin'."

Neither Tom nor Casy has anything to gain from trying to set the fat man straight. Why do they bother, then? Maybe each believes that life can be better, but only if you make it so. If you don't keep trying, you're licked. What bestows meaning on life is the effort you put into it. In short, Tom and Casy are trying to save the fat man from himself. They're crusaders, especially Casy, who says, "Here's me that used to give all my fight against the devil.... But they's sompin' worse'n the devil got hold a the country, an' it ain't gonna let go till it's chopped loose." Exactly what Casy thinks has snared the country is hard to tell at this point, but he gives the impression that he's going after it with the same fervor he once used to chase sinners.

Before he can devote himself entirely to his new cause, however, Casy has one more duty to perform in the old way. Realizing that her husband is dying, Granma insists that Casy say a proper prayer. Casy recites the Twenty-third Psalm. It seems that Casy won't be free to pursue his new religion of the people until the old generation is dead and buried.

Grampa's burial becomes a practical problem. What should be done with the body? The law says report the death and pay the undertaker forty dollars. But if your entire family fortune is less than two-hundred dollars, you may look for another way. They decide to bury Grampa on their own. In case the authorities find the grave, they will include a note in a bottle explaining the circumstances of the death and burial.

A time of grief often knits people together. As Grampa lays dying in the Wilsons' tent, the Joads and Wilsons, strangers that morning, become neighbors in the afternoon, and friends in the evening. Before the night is over, the two families will unite, for each can gain from being with the other. Al will fix the Wilsons' car. Some of the Joads will ride in it, lightening the load on the Hudson.

^^^^^^^^^^THE GRAPES OF WRATH: CHAPTER 14

Simply stated, the point of this interchapter is that "the times, they are a-changin'." That, however, may be the only simple thing about this profound and poetic piece of The Grapes of Wrath.

To understand the upheaval going on in the country, let's take the chapter one step at a time:

1. The owners of the western lands feel uneasy about changes taking place among the working people. Militant workers are forming labor unions. New taxes and government regulations that aid the working class make the wealthy owners nervous, too. (Remember, we're in the 1930s, the time of the Great Depression and FDR's New Deal.)

2. The landowners protect themselves because they feel threatened by the changes. (We'll see how they do it in subsequent chapters.)

3. Regardless of what the landowners do, however, they can't stop the changes, largely because they misunderstand their origin and don't understand the power that brought them into being in the first place. The holders of land are doing battle with the unions and the labor laws. But, says Steinbeck, they're fighting the wrong enemy. The real adversary is the set of conditions that led to the formation of unions and the writing of laws to protect the workers--such things as hunger, the desire for a decent life, and above all, the capacity of men to believe in a cause and, if necessary, to suffer and die for it.

4. What is this irrepressible cause that drives workers on and on? Steinbeck calls it "Manself." To understand Manself, think of something you've done that made you feel proud. Let's say, for instance, that you got a good grade on an exam. The effort you put into the test was paid back to you in the admiration you received. But beyond the praise, you made a greater gain. You grew in stature as a human being. That is, you did something that only humans can do, thereby making yourself more human. That capacity to grow "beyond your work" is, in Steinbeck's words, Manself.

You might well ask what Manself has to do with the Joads and Casy and the rest of the migrants, whom we left in a roadside camp somewhere between Oklahoma and California. Surely Manself is not a concept they would put into words. Yet a desire to create a dignified life, fit for humans, drives them on. Would they suffer and die for it? We'll have to bide our time to find out.

5. In pursuit of a life of dignity, outcast migrant families have discovered a way to make the road less rocky. People form alliances, both formal and informal. We saw the Joads and the Wilsons coalesce in the last chapter. I (singular) became we (plural), and both parties were the better for it.

Fusion puts an end to loneliness, fear, and suspicion. Sharing a campsite leads to sharing food, and maybe sharing the children's toys. Then there's sharing of stories and problems. That's it! That's the key! Together people solve problems they couldn't begin to tackle alone. They suddenly take control of their lives. They've gained power.

Taken as a whole, then, what messages does this complex chapter convey? To the landowners, it's a warning to watch out for the approaching revolution. To the great mass of people, it's a hymn in praise of solidarity. To us, the readers, it's a hint of things to come in the novel.

^^^^^^^^^^THE GRAPES OF WRATH: CHAPTER 15

We're back on the road again. America is on the move in this interchapter. Cars and trucks from every state whisk along Route 66. Now we are pulled into one of hundreds of indistinguishable roadside diners where the waitress' name is always Mae and the boss is always Al. We overhear conversations at the counter. What people talk about is what you'd expect--virtually everything. It's small talk over coffee or a Coke, jokes, anecdotes, a bit of teasing, chit-chat about the weather, and lots of scornful remarks about the steady stream of migrants' cars and trucks rolling wearily by day after day.

An overloaded '26 Nash car stops. The man of the family asks to buy bread. Mae says, "This ain't a grocery store. We got bread to make san'widges." But Al, sympathetic with the poor man, orders Mae to sell a loaf of bread. Mae follows Al's lead and accepts only a penny for two candy sticks that really cost five cents each. Bill, the trucker observing the incident, knows charity when he sees it. He leaves a tip for Mae many times the amount of the check.

Much later in the novel Ma Joad observes that poor people rarely get help from the well-to-do. It's ordinary people who'll more often lend a hand. Don't Al and Mae and Bill confirm Ma's observation?

^^^^^^^^^^THE GRAPES OF WRATH: CHAPTER 16