Doesn’t matter if you know the ending. There’s a whole book in front of it, and it’s awesome, and devastating. But most of you probably already knew that.
If we’d read this in high school, I might have actually enjoyed it even then. Alas, ’twas not to be, for the book discusses both sex and Communism in rather frank detail, thereby promoting both.
I heart John Steinbeck now, and that makes me feel smart(er)(ish)(esque). How in god’s name did I ever get an MFA? Pathetic.