Travels With Charley: In Search of America by John Steinbeck

In the fall of 1960, with his french poodle, Charley, John Steinbeck set out on a journey across America. His reason: "In America I live in New York, or dip into Chicago or San Francisco. But New York is no more America than Paris is France or London is England. Thus I discovered that I did not know my own country. I, an American writer, writing about America, was working from memory...In short, I was writing of something I did not know about, and it seems to me that in a so-called writer this is criminal."

Thus, Travels With Charley came to be. The trip was made in a three-quarter-ton pick-up truck that had been rigged with a well-equipped camper top on the back. Steinbeck named the large contraption "Rocinante" after Don Quixote's horse in the classic Cervantes novel. (Side note: Rocinante now resides at the Steinbeck Center in Salinas, CA). Starting from his home in Long Island, New York, Steinbeck first headed for Deer Isle, Maine, where he visited with some friends for a few days, before cranking that great beast of a vehicle west. Across upstate New York, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Minnesota, Wisconsin, North Dakota, Montana, Washington, he drove, becoming something of a sponge as he soaked up the country's details and slowly digested them.

Perhaps the most thoughtful account of the country I have yet encountered, Steinbeck's memoir is not the light read I was expecting. His observations were at times hilarious, at times depressing, at times heartwarming, but always so acute, so careful and complete. With startling depth and magnetic prose, Steinbeck managed to leave me feeling altogether bizarre every time I set the book down. I was uplifted, yet I was melancholy; the world appeared beautiful to me, and it also appeared sad.

And don't we all have some half-born idea of carrying out a feat such as this? To leave our own lives behind and see our country, I mean really see it? To experience the changing landscapes, to hear the thoughts of our people, their visionary ideas and clashing dreams? This book is a window into what that would be like. It is not presumptuous or self-important; it knows, humbly, that it is only one man's journey. Had it been anyone else's, well, it would have been entirely different. So read with pleasure, read with care, for this book is worth your undivided attention.