The Winter of Our Discontent: Ethan Allen Hawley has lost the acquisitive spirit of his wealthy and enterprising forebears, a long line of proud New England sea captains and Pilgrims. Scarred by failure, Ethan works as a grocery clerk in a store his family once owned. But his wife is restless and his teenage children troubled and hungry for the material comforts he cannot provide. Then a series of unusual events reignites Ethan’s ambition, and he is pitched on to a bold course where all scruples are put aside. … Steinbeck’s searing examination of the evil influences of money, immorality, greed and ambition on American drew acclaim from the Nobel Committee who hailed him as an “independent expounder of the truth.”
Before The Winter of Our Discontent, the only John Steinbeck book I have read is Of Mice and Men – which I enjoyed. Steinbeck seems to be one of those quintessentially American authors, it seems he is frequently used as a high school text. When I was in high school – a moderately sized suburban school in a lower middle-class area, not prestigious in any way – we studied mainly contemporary Australian literature, or young adult fiction that was smack-you-over-the-head heavy on themes. The only opportunity to study anything that was considered a “classic” was in Literature, I studied Sylvia Plath and Tennessee Williams, but this was stuff I was reading in my own time anyway. I wish that my school curriculum had been more diverse, more challenging. Maybe then I would have read more Steinbeck by now. (Coincidentally enough, after I’d been thinking about this for a while, Abebooks posted this article about required reading worldwide. Australia isn’t on their lists, but I’d be curious to know the differences.)
The Winter of Our Discontent follows a few short months in the life of grocery clerk Ethan Allen Hawley. His family was once wealthy and respected, but managed to lose much of their fortune. Though Hawley has little ambition or greed, the needs and desires of his family drive him to change his perspective. One thing that I loved about Of Mice and Men was Steinbeck’s use of dialogue. It flowed, he wrote as people spoke. His dialogue in The Winter of Our Discontent is supreme, whole chapters mostly of dialogue that manages to drive the narrative forward. Characters are introduced and established mainly through their conversation with Ethan.
Steinbeck paints a vivid portrait of small town America, and has a keen eye for the details of routine. The time that Ethan spends manning the grocery is filled with accurate insight into the dredge of retail work. The intimate knowledge of customers, the ability to predict the ebb and flow of business, the rapport that grows between seller and customer slowly over time.
No man really knows about other human beings. The best he can do is to suppose that they are like himself.
Ethan Allen Hawley is a curious character. He is clearly educated – he mentions having spent a lot of time at college but none of that knowledge is useful to him in his work – and in the beginning he is level-headed, charming (some of the dialogue and scenes between Ethan and his wife Mary are just adorable), somewhat stoic and not at all concerned with possessions or social positions or any of the things which seem to bother his fellow townspeople. The story traces his transformation into a creature that is swayed by greed and ambition – however small and seemingly simple the greed and ambition is. I’m just not sure where this lust for money and social wealth comes from? Is it purely out of necessity for the growing needs of his wife and two teenage children? Is he trying to return to the respect that his forefathers inspired? Is it a subtle revolt against the system which has kept him working as a lowly grocery clerk? This corruption takes place in most of the characters, but we see it through Ethan’s eyes, and it his desperation that has the most effect.
A man who tells secrets or stories must think of who is hearing or reading, for a story has as many versions as it has readers. Everyone takes what he wants or can from it and thus changes it to his measure. Some pick out parts and reject the rest, some strain the story through their mesh of prejudice, some paint it with their own delight. A story must have some points of contact with the reader to make him feel at home in it. Only then can he accept wonders.
The Winter of Our Discontent is a morality tale that forces us to ask ourselves: is the corruption of ambition worth whatever rewards it may reap?
I’m definitely going to read more Steinbeck, I’ve put East of Eden and The Grapes of Wrath on hold at the library.