I pulled into town and took a literary tour.
"It is very hard to raise boys to love and respect virtue and learning when the tools of success are chicanery, treachery, self-interest, laziness and cynicism..." so he wrote a friend upon returning to America from England in 1959. Somehow that stood out to me as the truth of many Americans still today. Our country founded on the pursuit of individual happiness... has a price.
I just finished reading (well, most of) John Steinbeck's Travels with Charley. It's his last book and autobiography about hitting the road in a van with his poodle Charlie. The original van was in the museum, opened up to see how he lived, the little typewriter on wood table. As well they had his acceptance speech for the 1940 Pulitzer Prize won for Grapes of Wrath... a book that showed the ugly underbelly of how immigrant farm workers from Oklahoma lived and were treated. There were photos of the cottage he built so he could look out on a garden.
Ironically, just before I discovered the center, I was thinking how much more prolific I feel when looking at on nature, surrounded by nature.
It was interesting to meander through Steinbeck's life, failures and successes and learn of how things unfolded for him.
Tortilla Flat was his first break as a novelist, having written and failed to find success many times prior. The Winter of our Discontent was serialized in McCalls before it's publication in 1960. Grapes of Wrath earned him a Pultizer and much controversy.
After an hour it was time to hit the road, and continue my jourey north on the 101.
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