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The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck Unabridged
Random House editorial
at the end of the document there are a couple of pages I had to photograph again because the pages in the book where a bit blurry but i could not find them at the time of the final edition. apologies
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck Unabridged
Random House editorial
at the end of the document there are a couple of pages I had to photograph again because the pages in the book where a bit blurry but i could not find them at the time of the final edition. apologies
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck Unabridged
Random House editorial
at the end of the document there are a couple of pages I had to photograph again because the pages in the book where a bit blurry but i could not find them at the time of the final edition. apologies
JOHN :
CMe Een aThe Grapes of Wrath ,
;the United Kingdom in 1939 by William Heinemann Lid
tion first published in 1995 by Mandarin Paperbacks and reprined 7 times
; Arrow Books Limmted
Random House UK Limited
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road, London SW1V 2SA
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Random House UK Limited Reg. No. 954009
End
[ACIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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are natural, reeyelable products madc from wood grown in
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Printed and bound in Norway by AIT Trondheim AS
ISHN 07493 17809‘The Grapes of Wrath
pone
n Steinbeck was born in Salinas, California,
Hebruaty 1903. After studying English at
‘University, he held several jobs including
as 2 hod-carrier, apprentice painter,
y assistant, ranch hand, fruit-picker,
st n worker at Madison Square Garden,
York, and reporter for the New York
by wan. In 1935 he became a full-time writer
oe es writer for the United States Army
_ Air Force during World War II.
Among his most renowned works are Of Mice
‘Men, Cannery Row, East of Fden and The Grapes
‘rath, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1940.
N 1962 Steinbeck was awarded the Nobel Prize
erature as a mark of his outstanding contri-
tion to literature, his unquestionable popularity
d his versatility. In his speech accepting the
el Prize, Steinbeck gave his view of author-
“The ancient commission of the writer has
ot changed. He is charged with exposing our
cs faults and failures, with dredging
“up to the light of our dark and dangerous dreams
for the put of improvement. Furthermore, the
writer is delegated to declare and to celebrate
‘man’s proven capacity for greatness of heart and
Gps fo galt in defeat — for coursg,com-
John Sinberk died on 20 December 1968.
eyer, are holding in your hands something he
‘widow, his wife forthe last eighteen years
d like to tell you some things I remembe:
y he wrote, the places in which he wrote, his
ing. Of course I can't tell you why he wrote
that’s every writer’s secret.
ed a book of his letters, I know # little
ings, especially during the years of the
when he lived in Pacific Grove, Cali-
‘Cannery Row and near to Monterey. He
a little old house, with great old trecs and 2 walled
h still belongs to the Steinbeck family. There
for writing material so he wrove in old ledgershis father’s civil service job, and he boasted
bought from a local shop a cheap ‘bottle of
s0 long in stock it was as ripe and rich 2s
Brandy’. He began very carly to keep what he
a day-book: comments nal the weather, politics, and
‘Meant to write about that day. It was the 1
for the work ahead. qe ioe
_ Tm sure that if he were writing today he would love
and word-processors. He would learn to use
tet fen se ws Ne books in
pencil on a
Thave heard some writers say they can write anywhere, it
doesn’t matter where, It did matter to my writer: the work-
toom was the most important room in the house. I'd like to
tell you about some Steinbeck work-rooms I have known.
When we first moved back to New York before we were
married, John lived in a tiny penthouse with a terrace on
‘top of a twelve storey building on East s2nd Street. He
‘wrote to a friend, ‘I have one little room and a tiny kitchen
_and a bed and a card table and that’s all I need with yellow
and boxes of pencils.’ Of course he added a little charm.
¢ asked his friend William Ward Beecher to paint delight-
fal murals in the little room, and as spring broke, he planted
‘miniature trees and flowers in pots all along the terrace
Sometimes now, over forty years later, 1 walk along that
‘street, look up and see the trees, and wonder if they are
John’s trees. We had such a good time there. John was
‘writing Burning Bright, and in the evenings we would barbe-
‘cue on the terrace, and Carl Sandburg might drop by to
jicnic with us and play his guitar.
" We married in late December. John wrote to his editor,
“Now am married to Elaine and in two days we are moving
into a pretty little house on 72nd Street and there I will
have a room to work in and I will have love all around me.’
Te was a New York town house, a narrow brownstoneth loot an ga, the back. John chose a
overlooking that
d completly paced
or, sat down and began to write Far yet”
nee tranquillity for ‘that big book I
that will say everything that know.
ito his routine, writing from early mom.
. The rest of the time he was busy
. He wrote in a letter, ‘I have a draking
which I have always wanted, and a comfort.
ct by Elaine.’ Then he installed a carpen-
ch along one side of the room. For this writer
Fixit, and a creator of small objects of wood
understand that I never entered his writing
ept by invitation. And quite right too for this was
little kingdom. And anyway, who wants a compul-
-woman barging into the room of a compulsively
Every once in a while he would do a big
1a sign would appear on his door saying some-
Town’. This was an invitation to join him
ee made on his own private machine. He
entertain his editor and other friends here when
yas right and the room tidy.
"years all kinds of material would be carried up
lights of stairs: writing equipment, power tools,
elves, and once, big loads of lumber. It took me
to learn he was building a boat up there. He
0, a sort of kayak, big, very big in a little brown.
floor room. It was a take-apart boat that could
tars and re-assembled when it came
is ilding a boat in the
Fancy writing East of Eden and building
Ree fappy, heady times 2 wonderful ye TM; than the sea, for it would lure ne:
. igently and hard, sill on Eas of Easy
i and I picnicked on the beach and <1"
lected shells. up and excited about his work
{Rin't you keep your children quiet he world enn out
Xthe window. (I scarcely knew them.)
He liked to to mein the evenings as I prepared
dinner, especially if he had been writing dialogue and
wanted to hear the sound of it. One night 28 he reads
Passage, I stopped mixing the salad and said, ‘Oh | don't
_ think Cal would have said that!” Total silence Then John
carefully put down his manuscript and slowly took off hv.
glasses. ‘You are not my editor,’ he said, ‘you are my wife
Fortunately I laughed instead of crying, and he laughed too
: wre you I never forgot it.
aM Ge errs John again became obsessed by the
_ Arthurian Legend he had loved so dearly all his life, and we
made trips to England so that he could sy it farther
i entirely Malorian’: Sir Thomas Malony
eee wed
every place he lived and worked. And in the muscum in
Manchester John actually held the glorious Wincheste
But Feed "was more interested inthe Acs
i , $0 our next trip can best be described »
ee i shy ifany legend or scholar or guide
ia “King Arthur Was Here’, you can be
oo Wecircred Grea Bcsan wish