I love books. Some more than others.
I remember reading John Steinbeck’s “East of Eden” and not being able to put it down once I got past the the first chapter or two.
It was supposedly based on his family’s history.
Loosely or not, I do not know.
But it was a fascinating story. Started on the East Coast. Ended on the West Coast.
There were so many times when I thought, “Oh, this person will marry that person.”
Or, “This is likely to happen.”
No, it didn’t work that way.
Maybe because it was based on a family history. And if we look at our own family history it’s not always all nicely tied up with a bow.
Life just happens.
I suppose that is one of the reasons I liked the book.
It gave me a snapshot of American history. A family. Immigration. Westward migration.
Also a reality check.
When it comes to families nothing comes neatly packaged.
The girl from the neighboring farm does not always marry the boy from next door.
Lots of times, yes.
But not always.
Life is not predictable.
Sometimes it can be.
Other times it is not.
I loved that Steinbeck kept me guessing and always wanting more with each chapter.
If you haven’t read it I suggest you do. Makes you really think.
Just Being Mary 