52 Books, Week 1: Cannery Row

Brought in 2006 right in Sin City (thanks homies), and there's a lot I feel like I have to catch up on. My resolution to eat no read meat (nor pork), has started off well, and I haven't gone into a pepperoni pizza fit yet. Unfortunately, I must admit, when I went to Ruby Tuesday's and got a turkey burger there was more than a strong inkling to get some delicious bacon on top.

As you may know from desperately reading this blog, I'm reading a book a week this year. After finishing James Weldon Johnson's Autiobiography of an Ex-Colored Man in the last days of the pre-season, I was ready to go into the big leagues. I thought I'd start with something that would be relatively easy and capture my attention since I started 2 days late. 3 days later, the first of 52 was slain before me.

Cannery Row is usually described as one of John Steinbeck's best books. Hmmm, not so much to the kid. Composed of disparate parts, and no real coherent theme (other than existentialist loneliness, and there are a lot of folks who do existentialist loneliness better than Steinbeck) it seemed to be lacking that something special. My disappointment was probably due to the fact that I couldn't really relate to the characters, and thus didn't find the plot gripping in any significant way. They were poor and happy, I get that. I really liked Grapes of Wrath, and I really really liked Of Mice and Men. Oh well, there's always next week.