East of Steinbeck
On creativity among mummies, and an unnecessary review of The Grapes of Wrath
The other day I was working in the galleries with our oldest art—specifically our Egyptian, Greek, and Roman art. I somehow have gotten posted in this section a lot, which I don’t mind, though I have been jokingly bemoaning it to my coworkers (“I’ve been living in N1 lately. I think I’m going to end up buried with Ka-i-nefer!”). I am strangely immune to the surreality of walking past Ka-i-nefer—our mummy—hundreds of times a day, and even get a non-zero amount of joy answering the question about whether or not the mummy is real (at which point I always point to where on the didactic it lists “human remains” as materials in the work).
Lately, a lot of college aged kids have been coming in with sheets of paper and amusing questions about the art—sent on a scavenger hunt from a nearby university’s Intro to Art History course. I’ve explained what BCE and CE means, told others what types of art the term “relief” may refer to, and have otherwise been puzzled by some of the things they are looking for. I am not an art historian, by any stretch, but I’ve been somewhat shocked at how little some of these kids seem to know about art (or history, or geography). I suppose, having taught college, I shouldn’t be surprised by the failures of our education system. In other ways, I’m happy to still get the opportunity to teach, even in an ostensibly customer service/security role (and even better that I don’t have to give out any grades when I do).
But the other day, less than an hour before closing, a young man walked into Egypt, wide-eyed, sheet-bearing—clearly under the wire. After telling him he couldn’t wear his backpack on his back, I asked him if he wanted any help with his worksheet. He clearly didn’t have enough time to finish it all, and I’d been helping folks for days, but I wanted to help give him a chance—and my section was pretty much deserted aside from us and Ka.
I didn’t do as much teaching with him as I did with others, but I gave him all the tips I could: your professor seems to use language that’s present word-for-word in the didactic, so when in doubt—check the didactic! I also told him to take photos of the didactics for the art he needed rather than trying to write down the information in real time, since we were going to be closing the galleries soon.
Eventually, we moved forward in time toward the Romans, and in the little gallery with our Roman sarcophagi, and he finally asked me if these pieces were all made by people. I said: “Yes, of course!” and he stood there, looking at the intricate little figures carved into the sarcophagus, and said: “Wow, people are so creative.”
After his worksheet reached the limits of my galleries, demanding he find something from the Renaissance, I sent him on his way (with maybe 15 minutes of gallery time remaining for his impossible task). I’ve thought about him a lot since then, the bafflement in that question, the wonder in the confirmation of what seemed impossible: someone made this.
But more than anything I’ve thought about what he said: “Wow, people are so creative.” It made me realize that I am often taking for granted something about myself that might, from many different angles, be legitimately wondrous. His quote nestled into my chest and reminded me not to take this creativity for granted. And it also made me realize how colossal an art museum must be—how strange—to someone who (unlike myself) is so marveled by the idea of creativity. I am happy to have witnessed it.
I have been put myself in his shoes since then, to channel some of that wonder. I’m not very good at it, but I’m trying.
I’ve been busy with Bad Houses, of course. I’ve done events in Lawrence, St Louis, Kansas City, and Chicago. It has been a lot of fun but also taken a lot of my energy, and I have been trying to be kinder to myself (and my creativity) during this time. But it has been fun sharing this work and meeting folks, and I hope that you’ll try and swing by a nearby event, or at the very least check the book out (buying it, getting it from the library—whatever works).
If you do check the book out, I would appreciate if you did give it a review (wherever you like to review books) as the launch of this book—likely because it is short stories—has been much quieter than any of my novels. Despite that I’ve been putting so much energy into trying to promote it! So if you do read it, and don’t hate it, please post about it!
Upcoming events in October are (thankfully) few, but include:
No Arms in the Arts Bookclub #3 (virtual)
Columbus, OH: October 15, 8pm, Two Dollar Radio HQ
Toronto, ONT: October 23, Another Story Bookshop
I have been having a bad few years of reading (in terms of practice and focus, as well as because of the amount of reading I previously had to do for my teaching), but I recently got a small little phone-sized e-reader (an “InkPalm 5”) which has made it much easier for me to bring reading with me wherever I am. And because my mom sent me some little book about the writing of Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath, I decided to give that book a try—having really only read The Pearl and The Red Pony of Steinbeck previously.
A long time ago, when I started seriously writing, I jokingly decided that some day I would write a book of non-fiction called East of Steinbeck: a play on East of Eden, and the fact that Stintzi would be alphabetically right—which is east on most maps—of Steinbeck on book shelves.
I have an interesting relationship with Steinbeck, especially because of how I fell victim to peer pressure in hating his work in high school—specifically for The Pearl and The Red Pony. The latter is the funniest, to me, because while I wrote a scathing book report for the book in high school, I re-read The Red Pony years after high school and absolutely loved it.
I somehow had avoided Grapes of Wrath until now, and frankly wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, and was definitely not confident I’d be able to read a 500+ page book after the years of reading I’ve had. But one superpower of the e-reader, for me, has always been the way that it abstracts the progress one makes in a book, which always makes longer books feel less intimidating. Also, having this little reader in my pocket, and so one-hand-friendly, there were few times when I couldn’t be reading. Especially, I read a lot of this book while walking Grendel, waiting around airports or on planes. It still took me weeks to read it, but had I needed to schlep around a massive tome, I’d surely have lost steam before finishing it. My attention is so much harder to hold when I am sitting still, in my house. So this has been a bit of a game-changer for me.
And the book itself…well. I think it’s unnecessary probably to hear a review of The Grapes of Wrath at this point, but I will just say that it absolutely blew me away. I guess it could be good to write a review of Wrath in 2024, because it is so much about people being ground to dust by the wealthy, being tormented and forced into migration, being pitted against one another. It feels very 2024—deeply relevant. It definitely ends on a somewhat open note, but I was so happy that the image we end with is what it is (I won’t tell you what it is) because I had that spoiled for me, sort of, but my brain had told me that was the end of East of Eden. So I was surprised and delighted to have been wrong about that, and now have no idea what to expect when I eventually get to reading East of Eden.
I was talking about Steinbeck with a coworker, and one of the things that came up is his generosity, and the way that he often ends up focusing on community and care, on the sort of kindness of humanity despite the horrors of our human systems that make such kindness often sacrificial (to the less privileged, which are usually his focus). Grapes of Wrath is full of this.
I think the one thing that I have found in Steinbeck’s work (I also listened to the audiobook of Of Mice and Men on the drive to and from St Louis, which had shining moments but didn’t strike me too deeply) is that he is—at times—a little too “Chekov’s gun” for me. By which I mean he will sometimes create these moments that foreshadow a future, parallel one. For Mice, for instance, it is the moment where they put down the dog. There are similar things in Grapes, which I understand is perhaps more Steinbeck making a statement about people, but…I feel sometimes he is writing Aristotle’s wet-dream too much, where every element has an excessive unity.
But Grapes of Wrath I think has rocketed into my top 10, for sure. It kept me on my toes, it infuriated me, it delighted me. The way that it moves, the poetic interstitial chapters, the way Steinbeck likes to linger on side characters in this way that gestures to their own gargantuan stories, the way he—when he needs to—just knocks you on the side of the head with something awful but real happening.
Yeah. It’s great. You should read it. And if you had to read it in high school? I’m probably sorry about that. I’m really glad I didn’t.
Okay, this letter is longer than it needs to be—and there’s much more that I could talk about (like about how smitten I was with Chicago). For my paid subscribers, keep an eye out for a post in the coming day(s) giving you a sneak peek at my new comic, as well as an exclusive excerpt from a new short story I’m working on, titled: “Guest Services at The Museum of Sexual Deviance.”
Interested? Then please support me on Substack (which all goes toward helping me keep control of my time, letting me write more weird shit like that, as well as create and share more comics/art).
Yours; for now, for always,
JES
ARCHIVE OF PREVIOUS LETTERS:
Here are the links to previous Excerpts from the Void letters (Substack for some reason doesn’t show #2, so here’s a way to get to that if you missed it):
I just read East of Eden for the first time earlier this year and had a similar experience to yours with Grapes (which I have yet to read). Was too intimidated to pick it up for the longest time due to its length, but once I did it was spectacular!
Randomly found a lil paperback Of Mice & Men in my neighborhood shortly after finishing Eden, was unimpressed & will be feeding it back into the local Little Free Library economy.