Travels with Charley

What a delightful surprise of a book — a surprise in that I found it on my parents' bookshelf, which I scavenged when I realized I forgot my kindle on a trip home. My parents have a full set of Steinbeck's, including East of Eden and Mice of Men, which I read years back, and Winters of Our Discontent, which didn't quite fit the mood I'm going for. So this book was the last remaining option. Having just gotten a dog myself, I felt drawn to Steinbeck's memoir of driving across America in a trailer with his poodle, Charley.

The book seems to have a serious question: what is America? Which spawns more serious questions about roots, race, politics, urbanization, etc. But the tone, save for a few moments of exquisitely beautiful writing, and a bit of painful experience, was one of lightness with a good helping of dry wit. I didn't expect to chuckle so much. Reading this book, I felt itchy to write in the way great writers make me itch, and also made a list of the states I have yet to visit with renewed vigor to do so. But most importantly, the book was so fun because it was like taking the trip with Steinbeck and his dog without having to travel at all.

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.

First read: I started this book with tremendous
expectations, I admit. But there is
something terribly disappointing about
reading a book by an author you admire
in which he laments the difficulties
of driving in heavy traffic and
complains about pollution. I
hoped for more intimacy between
Steinbeck and the American people,
I think.




Second read: Reading Blue Highways for the last two weeks somehow led me to pick up a copy of Travels with Charley.

It reads like a contemporary travelogue. Steinbeck laments the the pollution and human encroachment of wilderness that he finds wherever he travels. If I'd not been told this had been written by Steinbeck, I'd never have guessed it was his child.

I liked the book and I didn't like the book. He seems to run into the scruffiest of people, people who have run down to their last dollar, who are down on their luck and down on life.
No happy people, John? No cheery optimists?

Charley is a delight. Steinbeck is an eloquent witness. He doesn't quite escape being a product of his time, given some of the opinions related about ‘real men' (toxic masculinity) and romanticizing early ‘explorers and pioneers' (aka colonists), even as he proves quite prescient in concerns raised about growing cities, mass production, nuclear weapons, racism and the subsequent human and environmental costs of each. But in observing pockets of his nation and informally interviewing a handful of its people, he offers an honest snapshot of a moment in time. This is by no means a comprehensive account of a  cross-country journey or populus poll, but the unevenness of focus between what might be termed more significant observations and conversations and more banal discussions of common travel woes feels genuine to the memoir genre. I could quite happily have just read about the adventures Steinbeck got up to observing and conversing with Charley, but I don't think anything so relentlessly charming would truly be a work by Steinbeck. Disclaimer: I have never read anything else from this author. His most notable works seem largely to centre on a historical period I shy away from (Great Depression through WW2) as  works from this period often smack of the prescriptive ‘for your own good'.  I wonder at how much he's taught in schools, that this book so assiduously avoided giving lessons, instead providing one perspective and inviting the reader to make up their own mind. In the interest of experiencing this writing style again, the seemingly effortless balance of flowery descriptions leading to consuming ambience with forthright discussion that has a rustic flair and thoughtful mein, I will be trying this author again, probably one of his short stories or non-fiction selections, in an attempt to echo this experience.
⚠️Mentions of enslavement of black people, and  indigenous genocide that are part of American history, racism, outdated terms

I picked up this book reluctantly in a second-hand bookstore in Ojai, CA. I say reluctantly because I wasn't in the mood for a memoir or non-fiction. But I was on a Steinbeck bender.

I'm so glad I did pick it up. This has skyrocketed into my Top 10 list. I don't know if it's because I'm on a cross-America roadtrip of my own, or because I wished Charley was my travel buddy, or because Steinbeck just writes in a way that resonates so strongly, with humor and honest assessment.

I loved it. I already look forward to reading it again.