John Steinbeck

Character Analysis

Well, we have to say, our Mr. Steinbeck doesn't seem to be super-into talking about himself—which makes sense, of course, since his mission with this book is to chronicle other Americans and American life (not himself).

That said, in trying to model himself a little bit after his hero Joseph Addison (who thought authors should always tell readers a bit about themselves), Steinbeck does start out by giving the reader a few deets about himself, but those tidbits mainly pertain to his physical appearance, rather than the nitty gritty of what makes him tick as a person. We're pretty sure height and weight weren't exactly the kind of details Addison was recommending authors share with their readers, but okay...

Anyway, don't worry—despite Steinbeck's shyness about personal details, we definitely get a sense of who the author is via his inner monologuing and interactions with others. Here's what we figured out through our reading.

He's Manly and He Knows It

You can definitely tell that Steinbeck thinks of himself as a man's man, and he doesn't really like any behaviors or cultural trends that lead people (and particularly dudes) to soften up. For example, he scoffs at the idea that an older man should perhaps take life a little easier and maybe extend his life: "I've lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment. I did not want to surrender fierceness for a small gain in yardage. My wife married a man; I saw no reason why she should inherit a baby" (2.1.2).

Okay, so, he's not exactly Conan the Barbarian, but he's definitely thumping his chest a little bit here and declaring his masculinity and virility despite his advancing age. Also, he's thumbing his nose at a medical and health culture that values being careful, safe, and prudent over living large.

He Plays Fast and Loose with the Truth

So, we already kind of knew that, since he takes a lot of creative license in this book. As a result, this isn't exactly a faithful documentary account of everything he did and said while he was on the road.

But you also see that tendency—that kind of carefree attitude toward the truth—in his interactions while he's on the road. Take, for example, when he is having dinner with the proprietor of his hotel and the proprietor's son (Robbie). During the meal, Steinbeck goes into a long discourse about the crucial and highly valued place hairdressers have in the lives of their customers. In order to get the proprietor off Robbie's back for his interest in hairdressing, Steinbeck argues that the hairstylist becomes everything from a psychologist to a trusted political commentator to his/her clients. And it works: Steinbeck definitely ends up softening Papa Bear's attitude toward his son's interests by the end.

Nicely done, right? But we have to wonder: how much did Steinbeck actually believe his own argument? When Robbie basically gives him the whole "I don't know how much you actually believed that—but thanks!" speech, Steinbeck's response betrays that he may not have been super-earnest in his description of the hairstylist's importance: "You know, I think most of it might be true. If it is, that's a lot of responsibility, isn't it, Robbie?" (3.7.86). So, yeah, even he's not totally convinced what he just said was true—but hey, it was for a good cause, and he's not totally unconvinced, right?

He Tries to Stay Objective... Until He Doesn't

We get the sense that Steinbeck tries to keep his opinions to himself with others (at least while he's on this journey), since his job is to kind of take the temperature of the country and its people—not himself.

That journalistic intention aside, Steinbeck finds it hard to hold his tongue when he gives a ride to someone who praises the "Cheerleaders" in New Orleans. The hitchhiker lauds their commitment to the cause of yelling nastiness at the African American children who had recently enrolled in a city school. In the exchange between the men, Steinbeck is hardly super-specific about his own views, but he definitely makes it clear that he doesn't approve of his passenger's views: 

"I'm not just about to allow my kids to go to school with no n*****s. Yes, sir. I'll sell my life first but I aim to kill me a whole goddamn flock of n*****s before I go."

"How many children do you have?"

He swung around toward me. "I don't have any but I aim to have some and I promise you they won't go to school with no n*****s."

"Do you propose to sell your life before or after you have children?"

I had to watch the road so I only got a glimpse of his expression, and it wasn't pleasant. "You sound to me like a n*****-lover. I might of known it. Trouble-makers—come down here and tell us how to live. Well, you won't get away with it, mister. We got an eye on you Commie n*****-lovers."

"I just had a brave picture of you selling your life."

"By God, I was right. You are a n*****-lover."

"No, I'm not. And I'm not a white-lover either, if it includes those noble Cheerladies." (4.4.103-110)

As you can see from the exchange, Steinbeck mocks the idea that this guy would lay down his life for children he doesn't even have, and all for some ridiculous, crazy racist views that Steinbeck abhors. Sure, Steinbeck refuses to admit that he's the kind of "lover" that the other man accuses him of being, but he also denies loving people like the Cheerleaders—or, by extension, his barbarian of a passenger.

So, while he's hardly a passionate crusader for civil rights, Steinbeck stands up for what he believes in here and takes down a racist dude who approves of harassing little children on their way to school.

The bottom line, then, is that even if he wants to stay objective, we get a pretty decent sense of the kind of man we're dealing with in our narrator/author. He clearly thinks of himself as manly and principled and tries to project those qualities to the people around him. Oh, and he might be insane, since he has full conversations with a dog.