Some Days Are Born Ugly

Some days are born ugly - anyone who knows that line has read Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday and knows that it begins the chapter about the Lousy Wednesday that comes before that sublime but crazy Thursday.  Anyone who has had to get up and face that sort of day knows its truth.  It is such a short but perfect opening line.

I have to admit that my reading has always been eclectic, impulsive, and erratic, as far as subjects, styles, and genre choice goes, and I rely heavily on serendipity to provide me with new and interesting material - one of the great advantages of working at the returns desk for a few hours is exposure to the tastes and interests of so many other people, as the tide of returned books flows in from the front counter and the bookdrop.

A stint on the returns desk is like a trip to the tip (as it was in older days) when I invariably came out the gate with more stuff than I took in.  Likewise, a day working at the library nearly always sees me return home with far more material than I can possibly read or watch or listen to during the borrowing period allotted.  It's a common problem for library staff.

I have digressed (mea culpa, but it happens when I am talking to people and it will no doubt happen quite often on this blog) and should return to Steinbeck.  I read Grapes of Wrath many years ago, and gained a new appreciation of why my grandparents and ancient great aunts approached life with such frugal caution.

My pleasure in its qualities, as well as my gratitude to the author for the way he presented the tribulations and struggles of the Okies, should have sent me off in pursuit of all his other works, but I was distracted by other passions - in my teens I found the Hugo award anthologies, Tolkien, and Dune.

The flood of great Science Fiction - Herbert, Clarke, Heinlein, Asimov, et al - and new Fantasy writing, swept me along for quite a few years.  Oh, and I mustn't forget the influences of P.G.Wodehouse and Dennis Wheatley.  What was I doing in the Adult section of the Library?  I had exhausted the Children's collection, there was no YA section in those days, and a sympathetic librarian bent the rules for me.

But gradually, I caught up with other Steinbeck works, and each has been a real pleasure and a revelation. Scattered through the pages of Sweet Thursday are characters and actions that seem fantastical, yet those seemingly impossible moments blend smoothly and realistically with the more mundane behaviour of the denizens of Cannery Row to create an utterly enjoyable, plausible world.

If Wednesday was "born ugly" well, as for Thursday, Steinbeck says "There aren't many days like that anyplace.  People treasure them."  Again, in very few words, he has taken you to a place you recognise - a place you remember, and wish you could visit again and again.  A few chapters earlier, Doc walked along the beach towards the lighthouse and the waves "... basted his ankles."

"The Golden afternoon moved on towards China....." as he walked and listened to the argument going on between the voices in his mind - the upper, middle, and lower voices.  A few short sentences and you know the torment Doc is going through, even as you feel the warmth and beauty of the place in which he is suffering.

One of the skills my friends at writing group are helping me develop - against my naturally wordy inclinations - is the skill Steinbeck displays so well.  His writing is both poetic and succinct, even when dealing with highly complex characteres and situations.  If you haven't read him yet, please do.