Travels with Charley

I'm told my paternal grandfather, who passed when I was a mere six months old, didn't read much but this was his favorite book. It probably would not have been on my radar if it weren't for this, though I am a sucker for road and travel writing, and find myself opining for it even more in the current pandemic-world we live in.

I'm fully aware Travels with Charley is almost entirely if not all a fabrication. The piss-in-your-cornflakes types can't quite suck all of the enjoyment out of this book for me, partially because Steinbeck states in the book several times he may have embellished or changed facts, and because you can absolutely 100% tell just by reading through it that it's a very curated selection of motley characters and events that anyone who's done a few road trips would know isn't realistic. The true reality of road trips is that they are often full of junk food, long stretches of boring nothingness, and occasionally punctuated by magical scenery or an event here or there.

Even still, I found Steinbeck's cast of characters endearing, for the most part. His philosophical musings and asides to the reader were interesting and resonated with me, even if they weren't novel. I found myself wishing I were in Rocinante with Juanito and Charley, kicking back on the steps with a piping hot plastic cup of coffee, maybe watching a river roll on by us. It's exactly this type of romanticized old-America, that despite it's glaring hypocrisy and occasional cold disposition, exposes the soul of the nation, that at heart compassion and friendliness are the most American qualities, and serves as a hopeful and enjoyable salve for my chapped soul in these tough times.