Travels with Charley

Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck (1962) I guess I kind of dismissed this book because it was so popular, and later-career, and about a poodle—so I’m thinking Lite Beer and Chuck Berry’s “My Ding-a-Ling” and the last season of M*A*S*H. But since I was working on a story about a cross-the-country drive, I thought I’d check it out and, also, interesting to me, he wrote it right around when I was born—and he was about the age I am now. And halfway in between, I did my driving around the country—so how is it going to hold up? I can’t speak for 2024, but my younger adventure relates. Depressingly, one thing that’s way too close to our present day is his observations of and indictments of racism. But it isn’t all grim. I was immediately charmed by his overall attitude and tone, relating to that really quite a lot—and of course he’s a good writer, and it’s funny. And very insightful, just for the feeling you get on a long trip—especially if you make a point of talking to people. For a while I thought it was going to be one episode after another of loosening people up by “sweetening” their coffee with a little applejack or bourbon. Hopefully he didn’t start anyone on a path to destruction. Overall, I got some good insight for my book. Also, I see there have been criticisms about the book due to how much of the story he exaggerated and manipulated or just plain made up. But for me, I don’t care—what’s on the page is what’s important to me—not so called “reality.” After all, all “fiction” is based on reality and all “memoir” is so much enhanced and made up—I think the categories are just a little silly.

10.29.24