yet to receive input from any one of the nine, this writer can but perch o'er aonian streams, pawing at dregs of genius as they pass her by. 

Westering Canon: John's Stained Backs

Westering Canon: John's Stained Backs

American literature has long been shot through with the violent depressions, dearths and famines of its birth nation. With a Quixotic inevitability, grandiose bubbles inflate around the United States only to pop; the vengeful force of displaced reality returns to bear upon the earth which disavowed her.[1] The Joads of Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath are a fulcrum around which this grand historical process whirls - a forced unit for whom native circumstances have forged an alternate destiny. Adopting the driving theme pervasive in such contemporary proletarian literature as Jack Conroy’s The Disinherited,[2] Grapes and its synonymous leading family are fielded by hunger: a hunger of such biting intensity that it functions as progressive force pushing the poor towards the agrarian collectivism Steinbeck relates to their solitary saviour. For the novel historicises, editorialises and conditions through its generalist interchapters; interludes often seen as artless and inimical, but that serve to compound the era-defying philosophy of poverty-surmountation that Steinbeck endorses through Casey. We are steered towards a more radical understanding of the social order than that available to the Joads, and through strong Biblical allusion we are pushed to a universalist reading of the text that broadens what could otherwise be misconstrued as a moment - the Dust Bowl - crystallised. Grapes is a large-scale indictment of American-capitalist global-capitalist insatiability and the violent impact it has on those unable to breathe air from above the breadline. As Sarah Shillinglaw says, ‘It’s really about poverty… about haves and have-nots… and that story is getting increasingly urgent… The Joads become the Syrians huddling near Turkish or Lebanese borders, or Mexicans reaching hands through fences at America’s border, or the hungry, the jobless, and the exiled everywhere.’[3] Floyd Knowles in his conversation with the sceptical Tom most tersely voices Steinbeck’s exhortation to his audience: ‘They’s stuff,’ he notes without a hint of mirth, ‘ya gotta learn.’

 Nothing but the sky, the wind in our hats and the Joad

Nothing but the sky, the wind in our hats and the Joad

In a land of ‘high winds and sun,’ intones the reedy narrator of Pare Lorentz’s 1936 documentary film The Plow That Broke the Plains took place ‘a story of land, soil…’. A westward march, we are told, brought cultivation stretching for millions of acres to bear upon the chalky topsoil of Midwestern America. Great lumbering tanks are shown carving through WW1’s charged landscape and intercut with fleets of tractors making the land their own, intimating the latter’s destructive capability.[4] This spectre of war-torn agrarianism was one among a brotherhood of decay which haunted a United States caught amidst its most stricken years since the Great Depression began. The NRPB reported that in 1936, 18.3 million families received less than $1.000 per year[5], while 6.7 million pocketed less than $500 in the same period. Unemployment had risen from 1.6 million in 1929 to 12.8 million in 1933 - 25% of the entire labour force.[6] The rate had dipped to 7.7 million by 1937, but had surged to 9.5 million, 17%, in 1939. The economy was a gasping sick-patient; limping more pathetically by far than in 1873, 1893 or 1920–21. Roosevelt’s statement in 1937 that ‘one third of the nation [was] ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished’[7] was, by any contemporary definition of poverty, an estimate exceedingly conservative: the percentage was closer to 40 or 50%. The staunch refutal of John Maynard Keynes’ appraisal and its call for change by contemporary economists throughout the 1930s is perhaps easier to scorn in hindsight than we would care to imagine. Amidst such endemic stagnation, few were prepared to extend their vision to include an affluent America stimulated by the correction of income maldistribution. The question of unemployment ate at the time and focus of policymakers, leaving little to spend on the longer-range structural problems of low income, farm tenancy and old poverty in general. ‘Even liberals,’ writes James T Patterson, ‘obsessed with the need for economic recovery, devoted little time to planning a more egalitarian society.’[8] The recognition that a pillar of American society had, at some point, to give was making a gradual spread through the wider consciousness: Harry Hopkins - as head of the New Deal’s FERA and later WPA - saw with piercing clarity the undercurrent of poverty which controlled the economic destiny of the country.[9] His solution presented a quasi-Keynesian understanding that blossoming purchasing power is the only path to recovery. Distress, he wrote, ‘cannot be settled in a day. We are on our way, but make no mistake about it, we are going to have unemployment on our hands for years to come.’[10] The Depression ‘uncovered for the public gaze a volume of chronic poverty unsuspected except by a few studies and by those who have always experienced it.’[11] Contemporaries such as Rubinow concurred with this theorising: he and many like-minded compatriots urged governmental stimulation of the economy such that purchasing power could swell, driving out the old Malthusian world order as it did so. Escaping poverty, he said, meant the ‘opportunity to enjoy life.’[12] His thought reflected long-held beliefs regarding the progression of material advances in western society and their equivalent impact upon the ‘poverty line’. The Americans cared little for any but their own expectations: forged in an era that had promised progress and prosperity, the 1930s Americans were stunned by the extremity of their sudden dearth. The WPA project These are Our Lives contains countless examples of the disconnected between expectation and reality. ‘You’re gonna have lace curtains some day, Sarah,’ coughs one man. ‘Just as shore as God spares my life for a little longer, you’re gonna have them lace curtains.’[13]

 Hopkins, Early and Bohlen pictured here at a FEMA camp retreat.

Hopkins, Early and Bohlen pictured here at a FEMA camp retreat.

At the same time, a wider sense of social injustice was spreading into the national consciousness as liberal troubadours went forth to spill the evils of Californian agriculture from its omnipresent cans onto the hard ground of public opinion. The industry’s enormity had made a travesty of the Jeffersonian 160-acre ideal - agrarian dominions had come to encompass territories a thousand times or more that size by the late nineteenth century. ‘We no longer raise wheat here,’ remarked one grower. ‘We manufacture it.’[14] The caste system attendant to such agribusiness had flourished into strictly demarcated existence, with wealth distribution grossly unrepresentative. Chinese in the 1870s, Japanese two decades later, Hindustanis early in the new century and Mexicans and Filipinos during and after World War I[15] all found themselves locked in a quagmire of almost inconceivable poverty, to be joined by Armenians and Portuguese, Italians and Swiss - a great whirling mass of low-price ethnicity. The gross farmers tended to the opinion that their hands - ‘beasts of the field’[16] according to the 1888 Kern County Californian - were nothing but tools; to be thrust into the soil or knocked against rock until twisted and in no state fit to work. Neither conditions nor attitudes had improved a great deal in the intervening half-century, and with the entry of white Anglo-Saxon Okies and Arkies now into this deep poverty, fingers began to search for an appropriate target at which to point: California’s agricultural elite posed the most ready option. It is from this strickened society that Grapes springs: hunger, poverty and scarcity pervade both its narrative and didactic chapters. Not merely the Joads, but the citizenry at large are afflicted by an inability to even subsist - a ‘ragged man’ in chapter 17 relates the starvation of his children: ‘I can’t tell ya about them little fellas layin’ in the tent with their bellies puffed out an’ jus’ skin on their bones… an’ me runnin’ around’ tryin’ to get work - not for money, not for wages!… jus’ for a cup of flour an’ a spoon of lard.’ Chapter 15 concerns the poor’s debasement as a father pleads with a waitress to allow him the purchase of a loaf. ‘Whyn’t you buy a san’widge?’ she asks. ‘We’d sure admire to do that, ma’am. But we can’t. We got to make a dime do all of us… We ain’t got but little.’ In the following lines he is reduced to begging for five cents to be removed so the bread can be purchased. The final scene, embattled in the popular conscience as it is, presents yet another example of Steinbeck’s America and the impossibility of life there. Ma Joad places a comforter around Rose of Sharon, who beneath the modesty it provides feeds a starving man the breastmilk her recently stillborn child will never taste. The veracity of popular “Okie” portrayal has, however, drawn significant controversy in the intervening years. In the 30s there flared an almost vicarious popular interest in rural poverty - the kind of elegiac hymn typically assigned to idealised visions of bucolic nobility perceived as ‘lost’ by those from within urbanised society. Caldwell and Bourke-White in the 30s captured a shot of a man plowing a hillside, scoring it with the observation that ‘plowing the land and harvesting crops gives a man something that satisfies him as long as he lives.’[17] The Farm Security Administration’s Lewis Hine fanned out to capture America’s “folk” and, along with writers such as Steinbeck, succeeded in immortalising ideals of family life, private property and the land wielded by Godfearing, hard-working folk - the sort that had “made America great”.[18] James Gregory contends that such ‘well-meaning’ blindsided works must shoulder responsibility for making ‘the term Okie a permanent part of the American vocabulary.’ Grapes, he claims, ‘crafted a portrait that many former Dust Bowl migrants have long regarded as demeaning.’[19] The Joads, though ennobled by their fatalistic perseverance, are cast uneducated dirt farmers wholly lacking in the moral or social graces with which their stage-partners are supposedly endowed. Littered with demeaning vignettes, the book highlights the people’s graphic sexuality, crude living habits and illiterate-sounding speech while idealising their struggles. ‘I think the stigatism of Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath with always be with us,’[20] said one migrant in Zogt’s Modern Homesteaders, adding that she has ‘spent a lot of years hating him.’ The political idealism of the proletarian novel in combination with its belittling attitude to the poor’s mental capacity has given rise to a collective invention: the “Okie” is an amalgamation of assembled sources. The symbols from whence the invention is sourced tends to represent Americanism: plain-folk Americana, where a supposed personal dignity and individualism is said to reside. Shared traumas from the Depression era, from ancestral legend, from popular media, from Steinbeck, Lange and Haggard coalesce and enter that most hallowed of impregnable vessels: American mythos.

 This Land is Tour Land: the throaty wail of dispossessed white America chugs from its beaten exhaust pipe.

This Land is Tour Land: the throaty wail of dispossessed white America chugs from its beaten exhaust pipe.

Simultaneously, Grapes finds its “racism-by-exemption” a broadside open to criticism. While an exemplary radicalised analysis of the exploitation of agricultural workers, its focus on white Americans as victims is rather flagrant. The Mexican and Filipino migrant workers - whose presence in the Californian fields was overwhelmingly dominant in the 30s[21] - feature as little more than passing concerns in either narrative or interchapter sections of the book. In this, Steinbeck’s literary lens appears at confluence with the wider journalistic one; mythologising the Okies as quintessentially American pioneers in the traditions of both Jeffersonian agrarianism and Manifest Destiny. Michael Denning has lately remarked upon Grapes’ implicit racism in his The Cultural Front: The Labouring of American Culture in the Twentieth Century. For Denning, the book is imbued with ‘racial populism’.[22] - an element lost on contemporary leftist critics whose nascent awareness of racial essentialism had as yet failed to blossom. Is it, then, possible to descry in Grapes a lack of universalism? A perfidious obfuscation of truthful portrayal and a failure to place the Dust Bowl migration crisis within its wider historical context? One need look no further, perhaps, than the storm of outrage which its publication brewed among the conservative, landed elites who were the primary beneficiaries of agribusiness’ growing encroachment. Writing in the biweekly farming periodical Pacific Rural Press, editor John E. Pickett excoriates ‘Termites Steinbeck and McWilliams’ as ‘scavenger[s] of filth’ and ‘dealer[s] in literary scandal.’[23] Nor did this particular industrialist apologist think much of those who enjoyed reading the book: ‘How they eat it up, those emotion-hunters, intelligentsia, pinks, reds and cocktail-cuddlers.’[24] ‘Part of the shock,’ writes Shillinglaw, ‘was resistance to believing that there was that kind of poverty in America… He [Steinbeck] saw dispossession as a theme and as a story much larger than […] the California story… so I think he always knew what he was about in terms of the mythic parallels.’[25] Certainly its impact was felt in the highest echelons of American society; Eleanor Roosevelt termed her reading of the book ‘an unforgettable experience.’[26] The president himself over the coming months made the polis aware of its vitality: finding himself wishing ‘them big farmers wouldn’ plague us so.’ ‘There are 500,000 Americans… that live in the covers of that book.’[27] To the good samaritans and social reformers it attained a scriptural authority, requiring an invocation on occasions so frequent that the work itself felt almost cheapened. ‘Grapes of Wrath’ parties were held, the UCAPAWA recruited five young Broadway actors as the ‘Grapes of Wrath Players’ to tour the country and promote their reforming message. Pundits and socially earnest essayists of all leftist creeds insisted on deferring to their unofficial bible in every possible instance: ‘Meet the Joad Family,’ ‘The Joad Family in Kern Country,’ ‘What’s being done about the Joads?’ ‘The Joads on Strike?’ read the headlines.[28] Clearly the book’s tendrils passed some societal threshold, tapping into a broader consciousness of the sickness in American society: the book is ‘a vivid 50-year-old parallel to the American homeless story: a story of people at the bottom of the world, bereft and drifting [as] outcasts in a hostile society.’[29]

 Mexican labourers brace(ro) for their agricultural-labour futures

Mexican labourers brace(ro) for their agricultural-labour futures

It is pertinent to note that Steinbeck had made himself part of the grander labour myth. In his youth, he worked as a bench chemist alongside Mexican labourers, worked on a dredging crew near Castroville and joined a construction crew building Highway 1, among others. The youngster had grown a sympathy for ‘those who were shunned, those on the lower rungs who worked with their hands. Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, and Mexican field-workers…’[30] With a mother in the Eastern Star and father active member of the stonemasons, social activity can hardly have been far from the young Steinbeck’s consciousness. Nor are all of Grapes’ Okies denied intelligent wits. Al Joad, to be certain, is drawn buzzing with modernity and a real sense of his weight in the world. Television broadcasts were a newly forged concept - the 1939 Golden Gate International Exposition in San Francisco featured the revolutionary devices - and Al perceives the market’s potential growth, besides his mechanic’s autodidacticism. Casy is direct mouthpiece for authorial philosophy and Tom retains the pragmatic, anti-hysterical position of reason which he possesses upon entering proceedings. It is clear the wider American experience as a subject also fascinated Steinbeck throughout his career. Columbia’s mythos takes centre stage not only in such obvious studies of the nation as America and Americans or Travels with Charley, but also throughout the novels. In The Short Reign of Pippin IV, Steinbeck takes a youthful ‘ideal’ America to France in order to compare the public and private moralities of the two nations. In The Winter of Our Discontent, a dark eye is cast upon the American public conscience through Ethan Allen Hawley, who lives at home with ‘Adam’ decorations and flatly refuses to recognise the flaws in humanity while East of Eden creates a manifest American Adam in his lead Adam Trask, who with self-destructive naivete embarks upon a devolution of American idealism. That Steinbeck should hold the bible in a background-foreground stasis throughout the novel is a conclusion foregone: his subject is the America of his observation, conception and feeling - a country itself founded upon a biblical consciousness unlike any other. And while there is a vital urgency to the Dust Bowl diaspora - certainly the novel bows beneath the weight of the ‘30s detail which adorns it - we are urged by Steinbeck into the grandiose, timeless and mythic from the biblical cadence of its opening chapter. The Joads themselves would not have perceived their flight from Oklahoman topsoil to be an Exodus, Casy would not have drawn himself Christ, nor Tom himself Joe Hill, but Steinbeck does.

For the American founders, the country was New Canaan or new Jerusalem; the colonists were the chosen people - Israelites in all but appearance and culture - who were given to comparing themselves to ‘Moyses and the Isralits when they went out of Egipte.’[31] They had fled persecution and religious bondage in England and Europe for the fresh, dew-laden patina of an awaiting America. From this acute biblical pattern arose what has become known as the American myth, a national consciousness which arrested Steinbeck’s inquisitivity throughout his life. For the Joads, California is the new Eden: theirs has been sucked dry. ‘“Jesus Christ! Look!” he said. The vineyards, the orchards, the great flat valley, green and beautiful, the trees set in rows, and the farm houses. And Pa said, “God Almighty!” the distant cities, the little towns in the orchard land, and the morning sun, golden on the valley…’ When a rattlesnake crawls across the road and Tom drives over it, crushing the creature as the family starts down into the valley, the way has been cleared for an entrance to the Garden; the serpent has at long last been removed.

 Lots of Plenty: Genesis' companions part amidst Semitic fecundity.

Lots of Plenty: Genesis' companions part amidst Semitic fecundity.

Deep within the American psyche, Steinbeck recognised the nestle of a need to believe in the possibility of ‘fresh starts’ - of beginning anew what has spoiled in maturity. As the original English colonists saw the great landmass as a new Eden, so the Americans took this wan ideal and have translated the dream of recovering Eden into the American dream. For Walt Whitman this meant an outright denial of original sin: the self-proclamation of a prelapsarian state, to become the new, American Adam newly born into innocence. In East of Eden, Trask disavows the existence of evil within either himself or his wife; doomed by his self-willed innocence. The process of fulfilling the American ideal became one of despoiling the Garden in the search for the Garden until, at last, the land’s inhabitants stood at the edge of the Pacific with a slaughtered, torn land behind them, its original inhabitants and any other claimants driven from view and riven into nothing. Whitman’s poem Facing West from California’s Shores summates the deflating experience of “attaining Eden”: ‘But where is what I started for so long ago? / And why is it yet unfound?’.[32] Whitman’s deflated whimper is the backbone of Grapes’ semiotic drive. Grampa exclaims, ‘Gonna get me a whole big bunch of grapes off a bush, or whatever, an’ I’m gonna squash ‘em on my face an’ let ‘em run offen my chin,’ while the nameless, faceless representatives of big business urge the sharecroppers to ‘go on west to California… There’s work there, and it never gets cold. Why, you can reach out anywhere and pick an orange.’ California is Canaan, and the Okies must strive for it.

 The police are trotted out once again, Bloodying Thursday

The police are trotted out once again, Bloodying Thursday

Steinbeck pushes the construct a further damning step beyond its biblical provenance, however. The migrants are fixed in a larger American pattern - a double destruction. The tenant warns the owners, ‘you’ll kill the land with cotton.’ ‘We know,’ they reply. ‘We’ve got to take cotton quick before the land dies. Then we’ll sell the land. Lots of families in the East would like to own a piece of land.’ It is the westering pattern of American history and myth laid bare: the original colonists arrive on the Atlantic seaboard to a bountiful land of extreme fecundity, but rocky, dangerous and teeming with natives filled with aggressive resentment for the “discoverers” of their land. Eden must lie to the west, over the mountain, across the plain, except over there is only the Pacific ocean and it must receive an incensed shaking of the fist for breaking the pattern of displacement. As long as there remains a belief in the Garden to the West, the despoiling and abandonment of the current Garden remains justifiable, no matter the consequences. The croppers belong to this pattern as do the tenants: their fathers had to ‘kill the Indians and drive them away’: while ‘Grampa killed Indians, Pa killed snakes for the land.’ Before them, their Christian forebears killed the serpent Satan and his Indian servants, opening New Canaan. Steinbeck, a decade after the publication of Grapes, wrote in his Journal of a Novel ‘people dominate the land, gradually. They strip it and rob it. Then they are forced to try to replace what they have taken out.’[33] American poverty is, then, a self-sustained causal nexus that is precipitated by American wealth. The novel points to a single holistic truth in its quest for the resolution of this loop: individuals belong to families, blood families are bound to other family units, and all humans are connected in spirit. This it intimates in its structure - from the confidential narrative of the Joads to its expansive interchapters that both inflate and buffet their suffering. Small gestures and cataclysmic events hold the same value in the rough-tumble of crisis. The Joads represent a larger migrant exodus from the Southwest to California, but that itself sits within the generalised context of migrant woe both national and international: dispossession, power and its lack, the interconnections of humanity with itself and with other species and with the suffering of the many for whom the projection of their story is impossible. A final question over the novel’s political providence remains pertinent: the ambiguity in which we are left regarding the future direction of the ‘Okie’ struggle. Arguably, Steinbeck intimates that the elimination of national capitalism is necessary for a just, democratic and non-exploitative society. Yet, Grapes encompasses none of the violence which the eradication of capitalism would require. ‘Maybe we won’t live to see her,’ Pa mumbles, ‘But she’s a comin’. They’s a restless feeling’. In the context of the interchapters, what might be presumed to be a-comin’ is the end of private ownership, the redistribution of the land, and perhaps more. It is not, however, clear from the novel’s exemplar revolutionary action - the rubber strikes in Akron - where the end might be. Would the struggle be brought to a close by the winning of a better wage or would it tremble and rage until the relations of production - capital - themselves change? The novel’s ambiguity does not affect its radicalism. Grapes of Wrath is a brazen indictment of the American delusion and a decrial of the poverty self-incited as a result. Its middle-class readers are told not to pity the Joads, but to move beyond sympathy and form solidarity based on experiences within the same system. In a stricken country within a stricken world, Steinbeck argues for the necessity of communal, rather than familial, welfare.


  1. See: The National Bureau of Economic Research, www.nber.org/cycles/cyclesmain.html.  ↩

  2. Conroy, Jack. The Disinherited. . (Intr.: Daniel Aaron). Seven Seas Publ, 1965.  ↩

  3. Shillinglaw, Susan. On Reading The Grapes of Wrath. Penguin Books, 2014. Preface  ↩

  4. See: PublicResourceOrg. “The Plow That Broke the Plains, Ca. 1937.” YouTube, YouTube, Mar. 2009, www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQCwhjWNcH8.  ↩

  5. Cashman, Sean Dennis. America Ascendant: from Theodore Roosevelt to FDR in the Century of American Power, 1901–1945. New York University Press, 1998. P. 319  ↩

  6. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Historical Statistics of the United States, Colonial Times to 1970 (Washington, D.C., 1975). These retrospectively constructed estimates are not consistent with data from the decennial censuses.  ↩

  7. Cohen, Robert, and Eleanor Roosevelt. Dear Mrs. Roosevelt: Letters from Children of the Great Depression. Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2005. Chapter 1.  ↩

  8. Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America’s Struggle against Poverty, 1900–1994. Harvard University Press, 1994. P.43  ↩

  9. O’Sullivan, Christopher D. Harry Hopkins: FDR’s Envoy to Churchill and Stalin. Rowman Et Littlefield, 2015. P.29  ↩

  10. Quoted in Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America’s Struggle against Poverty, 1900–1994. Harvard University Press, 1994. P.43  ↩

  11. Ibid, P.43  ↩

  12. Braeman, John, et al. Change and Continuity in Twentieth-Century America. Ohio State University Press, 1968. P.263  ↩

  13. These Are Our Lives: as Told by the People and Written by Members of the Federal Writers’ Project of the Works Progress Administration in North Carolina, Tennessee, And Georgia. Arno Press Et The New York Times, 1969. P.17  ↩

  14. Crowson, Robert, et al. The Politics of Education and the New Institutionalism: Reinventing the American School: the 1995 Yearbook of the Politics of Education Association. RoutledgeFalmer, 1996. P.137  ↩

  15. Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “’Grapes Of Wrath’ And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.  ↩

  16. Street, Richard Steven. Beasts of the Field: a Narrative History of California Farmworkers, 1769–1913. Stanford University Press, 2004. P.371  ↩

  17. Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America’s Struggle against Poverty, 1900–1994. Harvard University Press, 1994. P.47  ↩

  18. Wilensky, Harold L., and Charles N. Lebeaux. Industrial Society and Social Welfare: the Impact of Industrialization on the Supply and Organization of Social Welfare Services in the United States. 1978.  ↩

  19. Gregory, James N. American Exodus: the Dust Bowl Migration and Okie Culture in California. Oxford University Press, 1991. P.111  ↩

  20. Swensen, James R. Picturing Migrants: The Grapes of Wrath and New Deal Documentary Photography. Univ. of Oklahoma Press, 2015. P.56  ↩

  21. P., Guevarra Jr. Rudy. Becoming Mexipino. ; Multiethnic Identities and Communities in San Diego. Rutgers University Press, 2012. P.35  ↩

  22. Denning, Michael. The Cultural Front: the Laboring of American Culture in the Twentieth Century. Verso, 2010. P.267  ↩

  23. John E. Pickett “Termites Steinbeck and McWilliams” Pacific Rural Press, July 29, 1939.  ↩

  24. Ibid  ↩

  25. Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “’Grapes Of Wrath’ And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.  ↩

  26. Quoted from: Ferrell, Keith. John Steinbeck: the Voice of the Land. M Evans & Co Inc, 2014. P.112  ↩

  27. Quoted in: Asen, Robert. Visions of Poverty Welfare Policy and Political Imagination. Michigan State University Press, 2012.  ↩

  28. Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “’Grapes Of Wrath’ And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.  ↩

  29. William Kennedy “The Grapes of Wrath” New York Review of Books, September, 1989  ↩

  30. Shillinglaw, Susan. On Reading The Grapes of Wrath. Penguin Books, 2014.  ↩

  31. Quoted from: Kennedy, J. Gerald., and Leland S. Person. The American Novel to 1870. Oxford University Press, 2014. P.27  ↩

  32. See: Levy, Beth E. Frontier Figures: American Music and the Mythology of the American West. University of California Press, 2012. Introduction  ↩

  33. Steinbeck, John. Journal of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters. Pan Books, 1977. March 27, Tue  ↩


Works Cited:


The National Bureau of Economic Research, www.nber.org/cycles/cyclesmain.html.

Asen, Robert. Visions of Poverty Welfare Policy and Political Imagination. Michigan State University Press, 2012.

Braeman, John, et al. Change and Continuity in Twentieth-Century America. Ohio State University Press, 1968.

Cashman, Sean Dennis. America Ascendant: from Theodore Roosevelt to FDR in the Century of American Power, 1901-1945. New York University Press, 1998.

Cohen, Robert, and Eleanor Roosevelt. Dear Mrs. Roosevelt: Letters from Children of the Great Depression. Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2005.

Conroy, Jack. The Disinherited. . (Intr.: Daniel Aaron). Seven Seas Publ, 1965.

Crowson, Robert, et al. The Politics of Education and the New Institutionalism: Reinventing the American School: the 1995 Yearbook of the Politics of Education Association. RoutledgeFalmer, 1996.

Denning, Michael. The Cultural Front: the Laboring of American Culture in the Twentieth Century. Verso, 2010.

Ferrell, Keith. John Steinbeck: the Voice of the Land. M Evans & Co Inc, 2014.

Gregory, James N. American Exodus: the Dust Bowl Migration and Okie Culture in California. Oxford University Press, 1991.

Kennedy, J. Gerald., and Leland S. Person. The American Novel to 1870. Oxford University Press, 2014.

Levy, Beth E. Frontier Figures: American Music and the Mythology of the American West. University of California Press, 2012.

Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “'Grapes Of Wrath' And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.

O'Sullivan, Christopher D. Harry Hopkins: FDR's Envoy to Churchill and Stalin. Rowman Et Littlefield, 2015.

P., Guevarra Jr. Rudy. Becoming Mexipino. ; Multiethnic Identities and Communities in San Diego. Rutgers University Press, 2012.

Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America's Struggle against Poverty, 1900-1994. Harvard University Press, 1994.

Pickett, John. E “Termites Steinbeck and McWilliams” Pacific Rural Press, July 29, 1939.

PublicResourceOrg. “The Plow That Broke the Plains, Ca. 1937.” YouTube, YouTube, Mar. 2009, www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQCwhjWNcH8.

Shillinglaw, Susan. On Reading The Grapes of Wrath. Penguin Books, 2014.

Steinbeck, John. Journal of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters. Pan Books, 1977.

Street, Richard Steven. Beasts of the Field: a Narrative History of California Farmworkers, 1769-1913. Stanford University Press, 2004.

Swensen, James R. Picturing Migrants: The Grapes of Wrath and New Deal Documentary Photography. Univ. of Oklahoma Press, 2015.

These Are Our Lives: as Told by the People and Written by Members of the Federal Writers' Project of the Works Progress Administration in North Carolina, Tennessee, And Georgia. Arno Press Et The New York Times, 1969.

U.S. Bureau of the Census. Historical Statistics of the United States, Colonial Times to 1970 (Washington, D.C., 1975). These retrospectively constructed estimates are not consistent with data from the decennial censuses

Wilensky, Harold L., and Charles N. Lebeaux. Industrial Society and Social Welfare: the Impact of Industrialization on the Supply and Organization of Social Welfare Services in the United States. 1978.

William Kennedy “The Grapes of Wrath” New York Review of Books, September, 1989

 


  1. See: The National Bureau of Economic Research, www.nber.org/cycles/cyclesmain.html.  ↩

  2. Conroy, Jack. The Disinherited. . (Intr.: Daniel Aaron). Seven Seas Publ, 1965.  ↩

  3. Shillinglaw, Susan. On Reading The Grapes of Wrath. Penguin Books, 2014. Preface  ↩

  4. See: PublicResourceOrg. “The Plow That Broke the Plains, Ca. 1937.” YouTube, YouTube, Mar. 2009, www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQCwhjWNcH8.  ↩

  5. Cashman, Sean Dennis. America Ascendant: from Theodore Roosevelt to FDR in the Century of American Power, 1901–1945. New York University Press, 1998. P. 319  ↩

  6. U.S. Bureau of the Census, Historical Statistics of the United States, Colonial Times to 1970 (Washington, D.C., 1975). These retrospectively constructed estimates are not consistent with data from the decennial censuses.  ↩

  7. Cohen, Robert, and Eleanor Roosevelt. Dear Mrs. Roosevelt: Letters from Children of the Great Depression. Univ. of North Carolina Press, 2005. Chapter 1.  ↩

  8. Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America’s Struggle against Poverty, 1900–1994. Harvard University Press, 1994. P.43  ↩

  9. O’Sullivan, Christopher D. Harry Hopkins: FDR’s Envoy to Churchill and Stalin. Rowman Et Littlefield, 2015. P.29  ↩

  10. Quoted in Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America’s Struggle against Poverty, 1900–1994. Harvard University Press, 1994. P.43  ↩

  11. Ibid, P.43  ↩

  12. Braeman, John, et al. Change and Continuity in Twentieth-Century America. Ohio State University Press, 1968. P.263  ↩

  13. These Are Our Lives: as Told by the People and Written by Members of the Federal Writers’ Project of the Works Progress Administration in North Carolina, Tennessee, And Georgia. Arno Press Et The New York Times, 1969. P.17  ↩

  14. Crowson, Robert, et al. The Politics of Education and the New Institutionalism: Reinventing the American School: the 1995 Yearbook of the Politics of Education Association. RoutledgeFalmer, 1996. P.137  ↩

  15. Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “’Grapes Of Wrath’ And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.  ↩

  16. Street, Richard Steven. Beasts of the Field: a Narrative History of California Farmworkers, 1769–1913. Stanford University Press, 2004. P.371  ↩

  17. Patterson, James T., and James T. Patterson. America’s Struggle against Poverty, 1900–1994. Harvard University Press, 1994. P.47  ↩

  18. Wilensky, Harold L., and Charles N. Lebeaux. Industrial Society and Social Welfare: the Impact of Industrialization on the Supply and Organization of Social Welfare Services in the United States. 1978.  ↩

  19. Gregory, James N. American Exodus: the Dust Bowl Migration and Okie Culture in California. Oxford University Press, 1991. P.111  ↩

  20. Swensen, James R. Picturing Migrants: The Grapes of Wrath and New Deal Documentary Photography. Univ. of Oklahoma Press, 2015. P.56  ↩

  21. P., Guevarra Jr. Rudy. Becoming Mexipino. ; Multiethnic Identities and Communities in San Diego. Rutgers University Press, 2012. P.35  ↩

  22. Denning, Michael. The Cultural Front: the Laboring of American Culture in the Twentieth Century. Verso, 2010. P.267  ↩

  23. John E. Pickett “Termites Steinbeck and McWilliams” Pacific Rural Press, July 29, 1939.  ↩

  24. Ibid  ↩

  25. Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “’Grapes Of Wrath’ And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.  ↩

  26. Quoted from: Ferrell, Keith. John Steinbeck: the Voice of the Land. M Evans & Co Inc, 2014. P.112  ↩

  27. Quoted in: Asen, Robert. Visions of Poverty Welfare Policy and Political Imagination. Michigan State University Press, 2012.  ↩

  28. Neary, Lynn, and Rick Wartzman. “’Grapes Of Wrath’ And The Politics of Book Burning.” NPR, NPR, 2008, www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=95190615.  ↩

  29. William Kennedy “The Grapes of Wrath” New York Review of Books, September, 1989  ↩

  30. Shillinglaw, Susan. On Reading The Grapes of Wrath. Penguin Books, 2014.  ↩

  31. Quoted from: Kennedy, J. Gerald., and Leland S. Person. The American Novel to 1870. Oxford University Press, 2014. P.27  ↩

  32. See: Levy, Beth E. Frontier Figures: American Music and the Mythology of the American West. University of California Press, 2012. Introduction  ↩

  33. Steinbeck, John. Journal of a Novel: The East of Eden Letters. Pan Books, 1977. March 27, Tue  ↩

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