Steinbeck: A Life in Letters

Edited by Elaine Steinbeck and Robert Wallsten

Paperback, 928 pages

Published April 1, 1989 by Penguin Books

 

John Steinbeck was an important writer and an interesting character. As noted on Amazon, he hated the telephone. So for him, “letter-writing was a preparation for work and a natural way for him to communicate his thoughts on people he liked and hated; on marriage, women, and children; on the condition of the world; and on his progress in learning his craft.”

 

I’ve been reading this collection of his letters, prompted by a review in “Brainpickings,” and I’m enjoying it. It opens with letters written during his early years in California, and closes with a 1968 note written in Sag Harbor, NY.

 

Here’s an excerpt from the book (selected by “Brainpickings”) on the topic of human nature:

 

“Speaking of the happy new year, I wonder if any year ever had less chance of being happy. It’s as though the whole race were indulging in a kind of species introversion – as though we looked inward on our neuroses. And the thing we see isn’t very pretty…. So we go into this happy new year, knowing that our species has learned nothing, can, as a race, learn nothing – that the experience of ten thousand years has made no impression on the instincts of the million years that preceded.”

 

Another excerpt:

 

“Not that I have lost any hope. All the goodness and the heroisms will rise up again, then be cut down again and rise up. It isn’t that the evil thing wins – it never will – but that it doesn’t die. I don’t know why we should expect it to. It seems fairly obvious that two sides of a mirror are required before one has a mirror, that two forces are necessary in man before he is man. I asked [the influential microbiologist] Paul de Kruif once if he would like to cure all disease and he said yes. Then I suggested that the man he loved and wanted to cure was a product of all his filth and disease and meanness, his hunger and cruelty. Cure those and you would have not man but an entirely new species you wouldn’t recognize and probably wouldn’t like.”

 

From The New York Times: “Surely his most interesting, plausibly his most memorable, and… arguably his best book.”

 

From Los Angeles Herald-Examiner: “The reader will discover as much about the making of a writer and the creative process as he will about Steinbeck. And that’s a lot.”

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Fargo (1996)

Written and directed by Joel Coen and Ethan Coen

Starring William H. Macy, Steve Buscemi, Harve Presnell, and Frances McDormand

 

On an impulse last week, I watched Fargo again – the 1996 movie, not the TV series. It was as good as I remembered.

Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out why I felt it was so good. Was it the plot? The acting? The direction? The photography?

 

All of that was great, but it was held together by the characterization.

 

The protagonist, the person that solves the crime, is played by the always superb Frances McDormand. Her character, Marge Gunderson, is a hugely pregnant local cop called to investigate three roadside murders in the snow. She’s a very ordinary woman, whose only superhero ability is an average intelligence (which sets her apart from her male colleagues) and a sort of “Gee-honey” personality that makes you wonder how she ever became a police officer. At night, safe at home with her balding, chubby husband Norm, she prefers to talk about her husband’s excruciatingly mundane hobby of painting Mallards than her own dangerous and challenging job.

 

The antagonist, Jerry, is an ingenuous car salesman and family man that desperately hopes to solve his financial problems by having his wife kidnapped and ransomed. Unintentionally, he is the true the precipitator of all the mayhem that follows. He is played brilliantly by William H Macy.

 

The kidnappers – two intensely comical criminal morons played by Steve Buscemi and Peter Stomare – provide both the comedy and the grizzle that make this film so unique.

 

And last but not least, there are two things that make everything else deliciously surreal: the “Minnesota nice” accent” enunciated wonderfully by McDormand and Macy, and Fargo itself – a snow-covered, small-town wilderness that provides the perfectly ironic background for this gruesome and increasingly horrifying game of dominoes. (I had forgotten, but the movie was written and directed by the Coen brothers, who gave us the equally great, genre-defying comical caper Raising Arizona.)

 

Interesting Fact: Not surprisingly, Fargo won numerous prestigious awards and was named by the American Film Institute as one of the 100 best American films in history. What is surprising is that it cost only $9 million to make. That’s actually hard to believe. It grossed over $60 million at the box office and has probably generated another $40 million in residuals and rights. Not bad.

 

From Entertainment Weekly: “An illuminating amalgam of emotion and thought.”

 

From Rotten Tomatoes: “Violent, quirky, and darkly funny, Fargo delivers an original crime story and a wonderful performance by McDormand.”

 

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