Thursday, June 14, 2012

Sweet Thursday

Sweet Thursday is of course the day following Lousy Wednesday. To better describe Lousy Wednesday, Steinbeck's own words do it best:

"Some days are born ugly. From the very first light they are no damn good whatever the weather, and everybody knows it. No one knows what causes this, but on such a day people resist getting out of bed and set their heels against the day. When they are finally forced out by hunger or job they find that the day is just as lousy as they knew it would be.
"On such a day it is impossible to make a good cup of coffee, shoestrings break, cups leap from the shelf by themselves and shatter on the floor, children ordinarily honest tell lies, and children ordinarily good unscrew the tap handles of the gas range and lose the screws and have to be spanked. This is the day the cat chooses to have kittens and housebroken dogs wet the parlor rug.
"Oh, it’s awful on such a day! The postman brings overdue bills. If it’s sunny it’s too damn sunny, and if it is dark who can stand it?" --John Steinbeck, Sweet Thursday

The novel Sweet Thursday, John Steinbeck's sequel to his great Cannery Row, has always held a place of special honor on my bookshelf because of the wonderful way Steinbeck weaves the relationships between friends, those wanting to help another yet having no clue as to how to best achieve a good result. I can't recall when I first read Sweet Thursday; perhaps in one of those high school English classes, but I'll defer to Clay on that one.

There are dozens of delightful exchanges, from which one can either laugh or, perhaps more often, scratch your head and say, "yeah, exactly!" Here's a perfect example:

"... "You know, Suzy, there ain't no way in the world to get in trouble by keeping your mouth shut. You look back at every mess you ever got in and you'll find your tongue started it."
"That's true," said Suzy. "But I can't seem to stop."
"You got to learn it like you learn anything else---just practice. The next thing is opinions. Hell Suzy, we ain't got no opinions! We just say stuff we heard or seen in the movies. We're scared we'll miss something, like running for a bus. That's the second rule: lay off opinions because you ain't really got any."
"You got 'em numbered, huh?" said Suzy.
"I could write a book," said Fauna. "'If She Could, I Could.' Now take number three. There don't nobody listen, and it's so easy! You don't have to do nothing when you listen. If you do listen it's pretty interesting. If a guy says something that pricks up your interest, why, don't hide it from him, kind of try to wonder what he's thinking instead of how you're going to answer him back."
"You're sure putting the finger on me," Suzy said softly.
"I only got a little more, but it's the hardest of all, and the easiest."
"What number?"
"I lost track. Don't pretend to be something you ain't, and don't make like you know something you don't, or sooner or later you'll sure fall on your ass. And there's one more part to this one, whatever number it is: they ain't nobody was ever insulted by a question. S'pose Doc says something and you don't know what it means. Ask him! The nicest thing in the world you can do for anybody is let them help you.""

The following passage, however, is The One that has always grabbed me, slapped me up side of my head and held fast:
Where does discontent start? You are warm enough, but you shiver. You are fed, yet hunger gnaws you. You have been loved, but your yearning wanders in new fields. And to prod all these there's time, the bastard Time. The end of life is now not so terribly far away--you can see it the way you see the finish line when you come into the stretch--and your mind says, "Have I worked enough? Have I eaten enough? Have I loved enough?" All of these, of course, are the foundation of man's greatest curse, and perhaps his greatest glory. "What has my life meant so far, and what can it mean in the time left to me?" And now we're coming to the wicked, poisoned dart: "What have I contributed to the Great Ledger? What am I worth?" And this isn't vanity or ambition. Men seem to be born with a debt they can never pay no matter how hard they try. It piles up ahead of them. Man owes something to man. If he ignores the debt it poisons him, and if he tries to make payments the debt only increases, and the quality of his gift is the measure of the man.
I encourage you to chew on that mouthful of wisdom for a while!


I just downloaded the Kindle version of Sweet Thursday to my iPad. I look forward to becoming reacquainted with that old friend and thought-provoking source of insight, as well as the interesting cast of characters contained within its pages.


No comments:

Post a Comment