John Steinbeck is one of the most celebrated authors of the 20th century. Winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1962, the works of his that first spring to the minds of most would be Of Mice & Men and the devastatingly brilliant The Grapes of Wrath. After becoming a mainstay of school syllabuses across the world, thousands have fallen in love with his quintessentially simple writing style, and his ability to weave out the lives of real working people cast in the shadow of The Great Depression. With a stunning eye for small details within nature and people, few have been able to depict the downfall of The American Dream in a way which is as equally touching as it is disturbing. We tend to remember him for his tragic endings - George being forced to kill his only friend, or Rose of Sharon breastfeeding a starving man in a barn – but little is said about Tortilla Flat, the novel with preceded Of Mice & Men and one of the most understated and completely joyous masterpieces of literary history.
Written in 1935, Tortilla Flat is Steinbeck’s fourth novel, but first to gain any kind of mainstream attention. Set in Monterey, California, the book tells the story of a group of out-of-luck and out-of-work ‘paisanos’ – men of mixed Mexican-Native-American-Caucasian descent – settling back into the swing of everyday life after World War I. The lead character, Danny, suddenly inherits two houses up in the part of town known as Tortilla Flat and, in a parody of the story of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, he invites his various outcast friends one by one to come and stay with him. They spend their days sleeping in the sun and their nights sleeping on the floor, getting into the odd scrape or shenanigan in between. What they have, they share, and what they have tends to be wine. In fact, 90% of their escapades are just long-winded explanations for how they once again ended up spending all their money on wine instead of the rent they each owe Danny. But taken together, the collection of stories is a testament to taking life easy and making a lot with a little.
And this is, really, the essence of what Steinbeck’s writing is about – making a lot with a little. This is the case with both the actual content of his books, usually revolving around poor folks travelling light and living off beans, as well as his actual writing style. With each sentence, Steinbeck has always managed to create the most enchanting and encompassing atmospheres and landscapes with the most incredibly succinct language. Every line throughout his bibliography feels expertly crafted, and Tortilla Flat is no different. The preface’s opening sentence immediately and rhythmically states its claim – ‘This is a story of Danny and of Danny’s friends and of Danny’s house.’ – and we are instantly captured by the clarity, the starkness of Steinbeck’s world. From here, we drift effortlessly through the novel and open ourselves up for some truly breath-taking writing that champions a simple life, free from material possessions:
‘The fire died down; the stove cricked as it cooled. The candle tipped over and expired in its own grease, with little blue, protesting flares. The house was dark and quiet and peaceful.’
However, what separates Tortilla Flat from the rest of Steinbeck’s catalogue is how surprisingly funny it is. I struggle to think of a book which has made me laugh out loud so many times. Set in a time just before The Great Depression hit hard across America, Tortilla Flat carries with it a breezy and light-hearted optimism. There’s a real goofishness to the stories on display here and their characters, as the novel descends into an exercise in how to feed one’s alcoholism in the most entertaining and elaborate way possible. In this sense, Tortilla Flat actually holds an edge over Steinbeck’s other works because we genuinely love these characters for their ridiculousness, rather than because we pity their struggle. Pilon could be plotting to steal a lady’s vacuum cleaner, or in a more tender moment the gang could be offering support to a wayward Corporal who has lost his family, but whichever way the novel blows there is a charm and a wit executed more effectively and more tastefully than in many other bodies of classic literature.
This pocket-sized book contains all the beauty and tranquillity that we would expect of John Steinbeck, but packaged in a totally unique way that brings a constant smile to the face of the reader. Even when there are troubled times, when even the best laid plans go astray, what remains is a spellbinding story of comradery, of found family, and a reminder that when times are tough and money is short, there is nothing more priceless than a cheap bottle of wine and five good friends to share it with.
And this is, really, the essence of what Steinbeck’s writing is about – making a lot with a little. This is the case with both the actual content of his books, usually revolving around poor folks travelling light and living off beans, as well as his actual writing style. With each sentence, Steinbeck has always managed to create the most enchanting and encompassing atmospheres and landscapes with the most incredibly succinct language. Every line throughout his bibliography feels expertly crafted, and Tortilla Flat is no different. The preface’s opening sentence immediately and rhythmically states its claim – ‘This is a story of Danny and of Danny’s friends and of Danny’s house.’ – and we are instantly captured by the clarity, the starkness of Steinbeck’s world. From here, we drift effortlessly through the novel and open ourselves up for some truly breath-taking writing that champions a simple life, free from material possessions:
‘The fire died down; the stove cricked as it cooled. The candle tipped over and expired in its own grease, with little blue, protesting flares. The house was dark and quiet and peaceful.’
However, what separates Tortilla Flat from the rest of Steinbeck’s catalogue is how surprisingly funny it is. I struggle to think of a book which has made me laugh out loud so many times. Set in a time just before The Great Depression hit hard across America, Tortilla Flat carries with it a breezy and light-hearted optimism. There’s a real goofishness to the stories on display here and their characters, as the novel descends into an exercise in how to feed one’s alcoholism in the most entertaining and elaborate way possible. In this sense, Tortilla Flat actually holds an edge over Steinbeck’s other works because we genuinely love these characters for their ridiculousness, rather than because we pity their struggle. Pilon could be plotting to steal a lady’s vacuum cleaner, or in a more tender moment the gang could be offering support to a wayward Corporal who has lost his family, but whichever way the novel blows there is a charm and a wit executed more effectively and more tastefully than in many other bodies of classic literature.
This pocket-sized book contains all the beauty and tranquillity that we would expect of John Steinbeck, but packaged in a totally unique way that brings a constant smile to the face of the reader. Even when there are troubled times, when even the best laid plans go astray, what remains is a spellbinding story of comradery, of found family, and a reminder that when times are tough and money is short, there is nothing more priceless than a cheap bottle of wine and five good friends to share it with.
John Steinbeck (1902-1968)
review written by Alex George
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