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So, I'm sad to say that I've never been much of a reader. I was always too busy thinking up my own stories as a kid and avoided books like the plague as a teenager. It's a damn shame. But now that I've buckled down and read Steinbeck's
East of Eden I can celebrate my victory over lazy neglect of at least one truly good thing. And I am better for it.
I could not put this book down for fear that I might miss something. Of course, it's a book...I wouldn't miss
anything, but it was so alive that I FELT like the beauty would go on without me like the painted sky at sunset growing more vibrant by the second and then quickly fading into grey. I didn't want to look away.
This story is everyone's story. It's an honest picture of what it means to be human.
The character's struggles are raw and ugly... revolting even. But they are REAL. And though they may take a different shape in our own lives, we hold the same darkness deep in the forgotten corners of our hearts. One might think that to be terribly depressing, but I have found great freedom in this. Both the mystery and important truths concerning our capability for evil and for good are woven tightly through all 600 pages of this powerful story.
We are not very different from one another. We want and also fear the same things: To be loved is the treasure that outshines all others. To be left unloved is a terrifying existence...the poorest existence even.
I don't really know how else to describe this book. I've been sitting here for a very long time editing this post and I just can't find the right words to say...I guess I'm still processing. BUT, what I will say is that this is one of the richest stories I've ever read and I encourage you to read it if you haven't already.