“The Salinas Valley is in Northern California. It is a long narrow swale between two ranges of mountains, and the Salinas River winds and twists up the center until it falls at last into Monterey Bay.” Thus begins John Steinbeck’s sprawling epic, East of Eden, the work that he referred to as “the book” that defined his career and legacy. I was prodded to read this book by a friend of mine when I asked him to suggest a piece of literature that could rival Brothers Karamazov in depth of philosophical inquiry. While Brothers still stands apart in my mind, East of Eden is a masterpiece, and it is as entertaining as it is challenging from beginning to end. On a personal note, this was the first novel I have ever read where a protagonist and myself share the same name. You can imagine that helped me to see things from the character’s point of view.
The book chronicles the story of two intertwined families, the Trasks and the Hamiltons over three generations in the California Salinas River Valley at the turn of the twentieth century. Unabashedly drawing from the Biblical story of Cain and Abel, Steinbeck explores extensively the relationship between father and son, brothers, and nuptial love. Two sets of brothers over two generations, Charles and Adam Trask, Cal and Aron Trask, both retell the story of Cain and Abel through their lives. However, each of these brother pairs is not destined to play out identically to the proverbial fratricide. Instead, Steinbeck introduces a reinterpretation of Genesis 4:7 that frames the entire book.
The genius of Steinbeck shines through with his cast of unforgettable characters who are at once realistic and yet entirely fantastic. The primary antagonist of the story is Cathy Ames, a woman who defies all our notions of the potential for human evil. In framing her character, Steinbeck states “I believe there are monsters born in the world to human parents… the face and body may be perfect, but if a twisted gene or a malformed egg can produce physical monsters, may not the same process produce a malformed soul?” The evil of Cathy Ames is enough to outshine that of a modern-day villainess such as Cersei Lannister. Such a character captivates the reader’s mind with notions of the potential for human depravity.
If Cathy served to chill the reader’s bones, Samuel Hamilton is a character Steinbeck designed to warm the reader’s heart. In all my reading, I have never encountered a character that has brought more joy to my soul than this jolly Irish immigrant. The only character that comes close in my estimation is Tolkien’s Tom Tombadil, only Samuel Hamilton is so much more believable. He has an air of magic about him, an insatiable intellectual curiosity, a burning desire to invent, and a child-like naivety that prevents him from ever turning his inventions into profit. Samuel sires a huge family with a dour, nagging Presbyterian wife on the only dry, fruitless piece of land in the entire valley. Nevertheless, his booming humor and gregarious affect lead all those around him to admiration of him and a magnetic desire to be the company of the Hamilton family. In my estimation, the entire book is worth reading solely for the character Samuel Hamilton.
The story reaches its central point in the dead middle of the book, when Samuel Hamilton joins Adam Trask and his Chinese servant Lee (another character who deserves a sketch in his own right) to name Adam’s twin boys. As they peruse the Bible for nominal inspiration, they dissect at length the passage from Genesis 4:7 in reference to the banishment of Cain from the land of Eden after he murdered his brother Abel. “If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must rule over it.” The words “you must” come from the Hebrew verb timshel, and the true meaning of this verb becomes the narrative of the second half of the book. “But the Hebrew word, the word timshel – ‘Thou mayest’ – that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’ – it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.”
Without spoiling the story, the best I can offer is a cryptic treatment of the true meaning of timshel. To understand fully what Steinbeck means by this word, I encourage any lover of literature to embark on a journey to the Salinas Valley. Along the way, you will encounter vibrant individuals, horrific sins, and a slight glimpse into the soul of humanity itself. “But I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed – because ‘Thou mayest.”
Written by Cal Wilkerson
