Of Mice and Men, a 100-page piece by John Steinbeck

Of Mice and Men, a 107-page piece by John Steinbeck, has in stock in the beginning dynamic, steady beat of the descriptions of natural happenings; lots of verbs. Lennie and George are travel-mates, wandering around before arriving to farm work in California. The impatient George is apparently a bit tired from both the job and Lennie, a big, strong child of a man apt to get into trouble. George confides a little childishly to Lennie with hopeful premonition about money they are going to gather from farmwork.

 

George is neat and Lennie adores and does whatever he says. They share dreams of having a 1-acre ranch raising rabbits. The narrative comes to a point of settlement, stopping to provide minute description of everyday things stuck in personal boxes that are there at the bedstead of each working man. The author Steinbeck is objective in his descriptions and is not racist or sexist, drawing from honest description from men about a woman (she is regarded as a nuisance by the workers) The girl who is a better-off Curley's wife is introduced in this way.

Throughout the story, the setting inhales the reader inspiring naked conversation. Little by little the necessary natural background becomes detailed and clear. The working men, with childlike and sonorous nature, obviously prefer nature than their bunkhouse in the valley. The old dog's friend Candy plays a busybody role discussing what a farm to buy with his money among them. What an imagination from George! He puts his heart and mind into the imaginings of their future farm. Lennie is to give alfalfa to the rabbits, but not kill them like he unknowingly did in the novel's beginning to mice in his pocket. Their 1-acre paradise made me smile for once at these innocent, boyish men, who live fragile life.

On page 67 is the most beautiful description of a black person I ever read. Go, Crooks the stable buck!

"He kept his distance and demanded that other people keep theirs. His body was bent over to the left by his crooked spine, and his eyes lay deep in his head, and because of their depth seemed to glitter with intensity. His lean face was lined with deep black wrinkles, and he had thin, pain-tightened lips which were lighter than his face." Now on page 79, another racism-free observation! p. 79 "Crooks had retired into the terrible protective dignity of the negro"

I had to postpone a day of reading because of up-and-coming sadness, but the ending got me. I thought I had dug deep into the narrative itself when suddenly the fatal finals came. Curley's wife, who was really a suffering delicate girl, unknowingly provoked Lennie and... the motive-free ambiguous accident had to happen. George and Candy stood for him afterwards, but I hide from you the painful, 'polite' ending. At the end, Lennie has virtual dialogue with people in his life who speak in his voice. Then p. 103, "I done another bad thing." Lennie says. "It doesn't make no difference" George says preparing the gun. You come in contact with the million thoughts that went on in his heart/mind. And the dream of the farm is shattered. 

After finishing the book, I felt the sense of the awful, tearful mess that Lennie (and George) had made and had to make a path through. One thing, now I can't wait to have to watch the movie version with John Malkovich as Lennie. Really?