I don’t usually stand behind the idea that the books we read in school are ruined for us – but I have to admit that I have no long-lasting love for Of Mice and Men. It was rewarding to analyse for my GCSE English, but I filed it away in ‘worthy’ rather than ‘enjoyable’. It’s only recently that I’ve come to enjoy Steinbeck for his portrayal of small-town America. Last year I read Cannery Row, and now I’ve read The Winter of Our Discontent (1961).
I suggested the book for my book group because I thought it would make sense to read it during winter… well, it turns out the title (while obviously a quotation from Richard III) is only working on one level. The novel starts on a ‘fair gold morning of April’, and Ethan and Mary Hawley are waking up together.
Ethan work in a grocer’s – though he used to own the shop. His family used to own a number of shops, in fact, and were well-respected people of note in their small community. Steinbeck doesn’t go into too much detail about the financial gambles that Ethan made, but they went horribly wrong. His business prospects were destroyed, and he has ended up at the bottom of the ladder again. He still has his loyal wife and his young, eager children – he is the sort of man who cannot be openly affectionate with any of them, but shows his love through parries and quips. Steinbeck is very good at the sort of light-hearted banter that men like Ethan exchange with their friends and dole out to their family (and very good also, later in the novel, at the confusion that children feel when this sort of father suddenly becomes serious).
The Hawleys seem to have a broadly happy marriage, and the badinage between them is elegantly done too. But Ethan clearly hasn’t come to terms with his fall from grace – and even patient Mary isn’t beyond outbursts of frustration:
“You said it! You started it. I’m not going to let you hide in your words. Do I love money? No, I don’t love money. But I don’t love worry either. I’d like to be able to hold up my head in this town. I don’t like the children to be hang-dog because they can’t dress as good – as well – as some others. I’d love to hold up my head.”
“And money would prop up your head?”
“It would wipe the sneers off the face of your hold la-de-las.”
“No one sneers at Hawley.”
“That’s what you think! You just don’t see it.”
“Maybe because I don’t look for it.”
“Are you throwing your holy Hawleys up at me?”
“No, my darling. It’s not much of a weapon any more.”
“Well, I’m glad you found it out. In this town or any other town a Hawley grocery clerk is still a grocery clerk.”
“Do you blame me for my failure?”
“No. Of course I don’t. But I do blame you for sitting wallowing in it. You could climb out of it if you didn’t have your old-fashioned fancy-pants ideas. Everybody’s laughing at you. A grand gentleman without money is a bum.” The word exploded in her head, and she was silent and ashamed.
I think the Hawleys’ state is an interesting contrast between mid-century America and mid-century Britain. I’m not a social historian, so have just picked this up from literature – but, in the UK, a ‘grand gentleman without money’ is still a grand gentleman. America doesn’t seem to have impoverished gentry in the same way – class in this community, at least, is determined by money and success. Now Ethan has lost it, he has lost his status.
Mary is a complex, sympathetic character – but Steinbeck is less generous to other women, particularly Margie. She seems a jack of many trades – telling fortunes being among the least disreputable. Ethan dislikes but largely tolerates her, and other men sleep with her when they’re out of other options. All of that is fine – Margie is a ‘type’ in a lot of mid-century novels of small-town America – but it is awkward and unpleasant to read narrative lines like ‘It was a durable face that had taken it and could it, even violence, even punching’. Steinbeck seems incapable of describing her without lingering on her breasts, and she is probably the least successful of his characters. Someone should have taken him aside and told him to grow up a bit.
I can’t believe it’s a coincidence that Margie and Mary have similar names. Together, one with supposed prophecy and one with hope, they think that Ethan has business success around the corner. Can he become content with his station in life, or will he try to change things? In the first half of the novel he is an exemplary portrait of a moral man. It wouldn’t be Steinbeck if things stayed that simple. And it wouldn’t be Steinbeck if he didn’t make some cynical comments about the state of the nation:
Now a slow, deliberate encirclement was moving on New Baytown, and it was set in motion by honourable men. If it succeeded, they would be thought not crooked but clever. And if a factor they had overlooked moved in, would that be immoral or dishonourable? I think that would depend on whether or not it was successful. To most of the world success is never bad.
What I most liked about Cannery Row was its depiction of small-town life that relied on many portraits of different men, women and children. The Winter of Our Discontent is much more about a single central character – the secondary characters are almost all very well-drawn and compelling to spend time with, but this is Ethan Hawley’s novel. Indeed, the narrative has some chapters in first-person and some in third-person, moving back and forth. I think I prefer Steinbeck when he turns his attention to a wider cast, but The Winter of Our Discontent is excellent. I haven’t detailed much of the plot, partly because its simplicity means that even a handful of hints will give too much of the game away – it is very predictable, I suspect deliberately so, but also very affecting because Ethan is known so intimately to us and we want to retain our respect for him.
This was Steinbeck’s final novel, and his talent was clearly undiminished. I haven’t attempted the novels on which his reputation is often considered to rest most firmly – East of Eden and The Grapes of Wrath – but perhaps now I should.
Thank you for not condemning every work your English teachers made you read! I often felt bad inflicting certain works on my students, but they always enjoyed Of Mice and Men more than I did. After numerous years of teaching it, it lost its pathos for me and I saw only its flaws. It put me off John Steinbeck (except for The Grapes of Wrath, which I vaguely recall liking). On the strength of your review, I will try The Winter of Our Discontent, Simon. Thank you!
Ah yes, nobody speaks about the *teachers* being put off by the work! My best school studying experience was Hard Times by Dickens, which set me off as a life-long Dickens fan – even though the teacher later admitted hating it. That’s good teaching!
I remember reading The Pearl at school and it nearly put me off Steinbeck for life, but a few years ago I decided to give East of Eden a try and loved it. The Grapes of Wrath is next on my list, but I’ll look forward to reading this one as well!
Interesting! I did quite like Pearl, but I am now considering EoE more…
Great review!
East of Eden is excellent, I think
Thanks! And good to know
When I saw the heading, I was not thinking | would be adding this one to the tbr,; like others, school rather put me off Steinbeck. However, once again, your review has worked its eloquent magic, and. I have found a copy in my son’s bookcase for me to hope to read soon. (That would be 1961 ticked off too!).
Ah thank you, Sarah, that’s very lovely to say!
I’m not like others in having been put off by Of Mice and Men as a school assignment — on the contrary, it was the first “classic” I’d been assigned in school that I actually loved! That led me to look for more, moving on to Dickens, Bronte and all the rest. It also led me to read more Steinbeck over the years, including this one, though I don’t remember it at all and need to give it another look. The Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden stand out more and are definitely worth reading. I also recommend Steinbeck’s “Journal of a Novel” that is about the writing of EoE, a fascinating glimpse into his writing process.
Oh wonderful! I think the book I fell in love with at school was Hard Times, even though the teacher later admitted he hated it. I am now v intrigued about EoE because of Journal of a Novel – I really love that sort of behind-the-scenes writing thing.
I love John Steinbeck and have read exactly the books you have not. Probably time to tackle them. Thanks for the review.
Thanks Marianne!
Ha, I have this on my “Winter” stack to pick up over the next couple of months — he fooled me with that Shakespearean quote for a title! It sounds like a good one, though. And you must read East of Eden. It may well be the Great American Novel.
It really would have worked as well if he’d set it in Jan or Feb, so he is just being needlessly contrary! And I’ve now had East of Eden described as brilliant and the reverse, so… intrigued.
I hadn’t heard of this one but it’s on my list as I want to read (or at least try and read) everything he’s written. The Grapes of Wrath is one of the most brilliant books ever (in my humble opinion) and I’ve just read Cannery Row which I thoroughly enjoyed as well.
I will have to bite the buller and go for Grapes at some point! For some contrary reason I always want to go for the lesser-known ones. Maybe less risk of disappointment!
Interesting Simon – I’ve read some Steinbeck but hadn’t come across this particular title. I read Mice when my children were studying it, and it’s very good but incredibly sad. It didn’t put me off though and it was his non-fiction which drew me back to him. Very much recommend A Russian Journal and Travels with Charley if you’ve not read them!
I haven’t read his non-fiction, but I really should – Travels With Charley sounds particularly interesting.
I’m the only person who didn’t do Of Mice and Men at school, it seems! I wonder what we read that no one else did! I know a lot of other people who did Lord of the Flies, To Kill a Mockingbird and Pride and Prejudice …
Read it while still a teenager. Must read it again. Recommend the Rabbit series of books by John Updike.