Steinbeck and Charley

I was dead set to start my book club book but  ….  Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley has finally come to call.  How have I missed reading it all these years?  Only 200 pages.  And with a dog, no less!?  And John Steinbeck.  Admittedly, I’ve dismissed this book all along for exactly those reasons:  too short a story about an indulgent writer and his traveling dog.  After epics like The Grapes of Wrath and East of Eden, and treasures like Cannery Row, I figured what else could possibly be that good?

Travels with Charley, that’s what.

I’ve only read the first few chapters, but Steinbeck’s voice is so charming, so self-deprecating, so inviting — and his prose so beautiful — that I can barely put the thing down.  I woke up early this morning just so I could get back to it.  Yes, it’s that good.

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