John Steinbeck, "The Grapes of Wrath"

            John Steinbeck employs a unique stylistic device in structuring the text of “The Grapes of Wrath” in such a way that draws an overt political agenda into a sentimentalist view of the great depression. As the plot follows the trials of the Joad family in their migration to California, Steinbeck inserts brief expository chapters detailing description of the landscape, the people, and the animals to create a parallel from the lives of the Joads to the great exodus occurring for a group of people and the ultimate destruction of the land. These description sections follow two trajectories: the first, a lyrical narrative of the land and the animals, metaphorical for the migrant workers, in an endeavor to evoke emotion and understanding; the second, a polemic view of the culture shift and the capitalist forces disrupting an agrarian utopia. 

            In one of the first few scenes, Steinbeck gives a detailed account of the travels of a land turtle, allegorically parallel to the struggles of the Joads and the other farmers in a mass exodus across the nation. The poetic, lyrical voice is in service of fostering sympathy, first for the turtle, and then—by extension—for the farmers swept off their land. Over the grass and dirt, “a land turtle crawled, turning aside for nothing, dragging his high-domed shell over the grass” (14). Throughout the passage with the turtle, Steinbeck focuses on its persistence and perseverance, for he “stared straight ahead” and kept “his head held high” (14) as various obstacles appeared in his path: “clover burrs fell on him” (14) and an embankment proved a steep climb. Just as the migrant workers persist despite hardship—their experience, too, is endured while they “strain and slip” (15)—the turtle exhausts all his energy for one simple objective: survival. Steinbeck also introduces into this section the idea of a predatory cycle. As Ali remarked in her position paper, the trucks on the highway that “served to hit [the turtle]” (15) show how men made machinery but cannot control it. Likewise, as the truck driver’s “front wheel struck the edge of the shell… and rolled it off the highway” (15), the predator is able to prey on weaker beings from a lack of compassion. The land turtle then serves to demonstrate the perseverance, the hardships, the predatory nature of survival in the lives of the migrant workers.

            Steinbeck also employs the expository sections to distance the reader from the specific narrative of the Joad family and underline the vast effects of the capitalist economy. In one description chapter, Steinbeck traces the travel along highway 66, a “path of people in flight, from the thunder of tractors and shrinking ownership, from the desert’s slow northward invasion… from the floods that bring no richness to the land and steal what little richness is there” (118). Using the towns and cities along the highway, he adopts the mentality of the migrants to illustrate the pure terror of unanticipated obstacles that mean, literally, life and death. Steinbeck questions: “But how can such courage be, and such faith in their own species?” (122) while the brief glimpses of families on the road provide a microcosm of the greater issue at large, the ability to trust that one human being will not exploit another for the sake of his own survival. And yet, through these chapters in which Steinbeck chooses to observe the exodus at a distance, he offers some understanding: “The people in flight from the terror behind—strange things happen to them, some bitterly cruel and some so beautiful that the faith is refired forever” (122).

            In a letter written in 1938, John Steinbeck expressed his objective in writing the novel: “My whole work drive has been aimed at making people understand each other.” Through the expository chapters in which he parallels the natural world to the predatory cycle of survival in the lives of the migrant workers and furthers a political agenda of explaining the economic forces that drive human beings against each other, Steinbeck is able to guide the reader away from the single thread of the Joad family to a comprehensive view of America during the great depression.

John Steinbeck, "The Grapes of Wrath"

            As John Steinbeck’s novel “The Grapes of Wrath” traces the ultimate desolation and poverty during the Great Depression, we are exposed to the skeletal form of human nature when in extreme despair. From this, two themes emerge: the predatory quality of survival and solidarity as a defense against ruin. As people starve and fall into deep poverty, they become easy victims of exploitation for those who have both money and power. However, the masses also pose a threat to the few; throughout the novel, there is an underlying thread of the possibility that together, the masses are greater than the powerful few.

            In the opening few scenes, there is much evidence of predatory qualities to life and to survival. As the Joads attempt to keep their home and land, the tractors run through it, destroying their home and numerous others. In one of the first expository chapters, Steinbeck introduces the concept of greater forces at play. As a tenant man pleads with the man on a tractor, the response he receives is simply, “We’re sorry. It’s not us. It’s the monster. The bank isn’t like a man” (33). This “monster” becomes the highest factor in a predatory cycle, preying on the farmers and their land. Likewise, the tractor driver must prey on the tenant man, using the farmer’s despair to make money in order to survive. He tries to explain this to the tenant owner, saying “‘Times are changed, don’t you know? …Get your three dollars a day, feed your kids. You got no call to worry about anybody’s kids but your own’” (37). When poverty strikes, Steinbeck observes, it becomes a dog-eat-dog world, where predators will victimize others and earn money at the cost of another’s wellbeing as a means to survive.

            A second theme in “The Grapes of Wrath” is the concept of solidarity. Throughout the novel, the migrants glimpse ideas of bonding together, of becoming stronger in numbers and resistance. However, it remains merely an undertone to the novel. Ma Joad first touches upon the topic in a conversation with Tom when he arrives home, explaining, “‘Tommy, I got to thinkin’ an’ dreamin’ an’ wonderin’. They say there’s a hundred thousand of us shoved out. If we was all mad the same way, Tommy—they wouldn’t hunt nobody down—‘” (77). As they experience utter despair and poverty and become subjected to maltreatment and injustice, this thought of oneness, of solidarity, looms above. Steinbeck reinforces this speculation later in the novel during an expository chapter: “And the great owners, who must lose their land in an upheaval, the great owners with access to history, with eyes to read history and to know the great fact: when property accumulates in too few hands it is taken away. And that companion fact: when a majority of the people are hungry and cold they will take by force what they need” (238). While the land owners in California benefit from the rush of migrant workers—lowering their wages and receiving the hungry and starving to work at almost no cost to the employer—the potential cohesion of the migrants would be strong enough to overtake the exploiters, to disrupt the status quo. Those in power, those with land, echo this sentiment as they say, “We got to keep these here people down or they’ll take the country. They’ll take the country” (236). Steinbeck’s novel holds this concept of solidarity above the plot, above the barrenness of poverty, above the struggles of the Joads, as a distant wish, an esteemed hope, and a possible aspiration.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Great Gatsby"

            In “The Great Gatsby,” the character of Myrtle Wilson presents a social commentary on the distinctions between the rich and the poor, parallel to the findings of Thorstein Veblen in “The Theory of the Leisure Class.” Myrtle acts as a liminal figure, able to flow in and out of wealth by the means of Tom. In effect, she leads two lives intrinsically tied to two differing social classes; with George in the Valley of Ashes, she suffers from poverty and acts according to the norms characteristic of the working class, but with Tom in New York, Myrtle dons a façade to feign a place within the culture of the upper-class.

            Veblen’s ideas of leisure and conspicuous consumption are particularly evident through Myrtle’s actions and her sense of what one must do to live like the wealthy. In relief to her situation at the garage, Myrtle’s behavior in New York provides a stark contrast and highlights the features of affluent lifestyles.

            When the reader is first introduced to Myrtle, in the setting of George Wilson’s garage, she is described as a “thickish figure” (25). Her appearance is plain and dull, containing “no facet or gleam of beauty” (25). Her second appearance, the beginning of her shift into the social class to which Tom belongs, is marked by a specific change: clothing. Appearance, here, is the first signal of social class and, in an effort to perform the role of the wealthy, Myrtle has altered her dress.

            In New York, Myrtle begins buying certain items, preparing for her new place within the social strata. At the news-stand Myrtle “bought a copy of Town Tattle and a moving-picture magazine” (27), which is indicative of high social status because of their unproductive nature and suggestion of leisure. Gossip and magazines do not contribute to any sort of labor or productivity, and are simply intended for the comfort and entertainment of the reader. At the drug-store, Myrtle bought “cold cream and a small flask of perfume” (27), again demonstrating the importance of appearance, of projecting certain values and tastes.

            Myrtle also partakes in the leisure class behavior of conspicuous consumption when she decides to buy a dog. As she speaks to Tom in the taxi, her justification for getting the dog is simply, “’I want to get one for the apartment. They’re nice to have—a dog’” (27). The pet serves no intended purpose other than display, for Tom must pour money into keeping it. When George later finds the “small, expensive dog-leash, made of leather and braided silver… apparently new” (158), the use of the dog to exhibit and flaunt wealth is apparent.

            The character of Myrtle Wilson underlines the behavioral aspects of the leisure class as she attempts to assimilate to upper-class culture. With her low class position, she feels pressure to assimilate and respond to the demand of performing wealth. This liminality between lower- and upper-class positions allows the reader a critical view of the distinguishing factors in behavior, appearance, productivity, and façades of both. 

F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Great Gatsby"

Our first introduction to distinctions between social class appears in the description of West Egg and East Egg. The New York scene, as contrasted to Nick Carraway’s mid-west background, is a setting of economic promise. The Eggs illustrate the subcategories of the wealthy, presenting the dichotomy of new money versus old money. The two land masses are “identical in contour and separated only by a courtesy bay” (5). Fitzgerald, in describing the land, creates a social commentary on the apparent similarity of the forms of wealth, but also asserts “their dissimilarity in every particular except shape and size” (5).

West Egg, indicative of new money, is “the less fashionable of the two” (5). The village has mansions reminiscent of European castles, a “factual imitation” (5) of the countries from which the wealth derives. These houses are, however, merely “spanking new under a thin beard of raw ivy” (5), quickly thrusting their way into society and replacing the inherited wealth. The productive labor of self-made men, allowed by the rise of the industrial revolution, is less prestigious than old money. Nick also notes the “consoling proximity of millionaires” (5), the feeling of solidarity of those with the same values, mannerisms, characteristics, and backgrounds. Within the “new money” strata, there is a sense of uniformity and mobility of class position.

East Egg shows a well-established facet of American life, “old money.” The “white palaces of fashionable East Egg glittered along the water” (5), flaunting their generational wealth and distinguishing themselves—both figuratively and by the Long Island Sound—from the “new money.” Tom and Daisy Buchanan’s house, a microcosm of the “old money” society at large, is defined as elaborate. The mansion, and arguably the lifestyle of the wealthy, is characterized by constant movement: “the lawn started at the beach and ran toward the front door for a quart of a mile, jumping over sun-dials and brick walls and burning gardens—finally when it reached the house drifting up the side in bright vines as though from the momentum of its run” (6). Inherited wealth has a deep and strong hold in American culture, the freedom of leisure and luxury of the most elite class position.

In contrasting West Egg and East Egg—and therefore, new money and old money—Fitzgerald narrates and predicts the shifting stratification of class in America. As the vines of “new money” grow raw, imitative, and less fashionable, those of “old money” are in constant motion at the top of the class hierarchy, and distinguishing themselves from those who must forge their way into a high class position through labor.

Thorstein Veblen, "The Theory of the Leisure Class"

            Thorstein Veblen presents wealth as a hierarchical system of human relation, illustrating how the possession of wealth and the performance of wealth create a stratification of class in society. Each of the different levels of stratification approaches labor. Veblen also explores the ways in which the attributes of the “leisure class,” the superior pecuniary class, reflect their attempts to distinguish themselves from those in lower social class positions. The behaviors characteristic of the leisure class are such that those employed in low-class labor cannot partake.

            Veblen begins by defining the leisure class and its traits, which centers around “the requirement of abstention from productive work.” Labor, through the eyes of the wealthy, is demonstrative of weakness; it is “a mark of inferiority, and therefore comes to be accounted unworthy of man in his best estate.” Veblen continues to justify appearance of wealth—performative wealth—by explaining that “the wealth and power must be put in evidence, for esteem is awarded only on evidence.” Thus, his two ideas of conspicuous leisure and conspicuous consumption are in response to this need for esteem.

            Leisure is a luxury exclusive to the wealthy, and respected for its association with intelligence. As Veblen points out, “vulgarly productive occupations are unhesitatingly condemned and avoided... they are incompatible with life on a satisfactory spiritual plane, with ‘high thinking.’” Leisure, because it is not available to those who must work to earn enough money to live, is the “most conclusive evidence of pecuniary strength.” Withdrawal from labor is a conventional signal of social standing, hence the term of the idle rich. Along with leisure, performance is significant in displaying wealth. Manners can demonstrate dominance as they are “an expression of the relation of status—a symbolic pantomime of mastery.” Manners and lifestyle adequately demonstrate wealth, for their continuance requires generational inheritance, the passing down of tastes and behaviors; “good breeding requires time, application, and expense, and can therefore not be compassed by those whose time and energy are taken up with work.”

            The second expression of wealth that Veblen addresses is conspicuous consumption. Such consumption is applicable to a broad variety of products: food, clothing, housing, and furniture, to name a few. Consuming goods that are unproductive—in essence, unnecessary—is a mark of “prowess and human dignity.” Likewise, the consumption of luxuries, as Veblen remarks, has no other purpose than for the comfort of the consumer and, therefore, distinguishes the wealthy as “masters.” As the class structure becomes more complex, the leisure class also stratifies into separate layers. With these new sub-classes the differentiation between inheritance of wealth and inheritance of behavior is divided and the leisure class is subsequently more difficult to distinguish.

Edith Wharton, "The House of Mirth"

“It was no longer, however, from the vision of material poverty that she turned with the greatest shrinking. She had a sense of deeper empoverishment—of an inner destitution compared to which outward conditions dwindled into insignificance. It was indeed miserable to be poor—to look forward to a shabby, anxious middle-age, leading by dreary degrees of economy and self-denial to gradual absorption in the dingy communal existence of the boarding-house. But there was something more miserable still—it was the clutch of solitude at her heart, the sense of being swept like a stray uprooted growth down the heedless current of the years.” (310)

            Lily Bart fears poverty for greater reasons than mere economic weakness; throughout the course of the novel, she continually points to two additional worries that accompany poverty: unhappiness and loneliness. Near the conclusion of the novel, Lily reflects on her reluctance to surrender the luxuries of wealth and finds that it is not her fear of monetary powerlessness, but her hesitance to lose the sense of solidarity and comradeship with her social set. As she realizes, “she had learned by experience that she had neither the aptitude nor the moral constancy to remake her life on new lines; to become a worker among workers, and let the world of luxury and pleasure sweep by her unregarded” (293).

            Unhappiness is a driving force in Lily’s attempts to hold onto her accustomed lifestyle of the rich. In expressing her frustration to Gerty, Lily articulates her belief that poverty is a miserable state of being: “’Well, poverty, for one—and I don’t know any that’s more dreadful’” (259). From the images of poverty ingrained in her by her mother’s perception to a vision of Gerty—the epitome of the independent woman—as homely and plain, Lily correlates poverty, or financial independence, with unhappiness. Without the material wealth and bountiful luxury of her former life, Lily believes see cannot attain happiness.

            Loneliness also proves a motive for Lily to feign her place within the social sphere of the Dorsets. With material wealth, Lily could create a seat for herself among the elite, could engage in a sense of oneness with those on the same class strata as herself. Although one could argue that Miss Bart never actually belonged to such a class of people, her performance kept her among them. When she is presented with the possibility of poverty, Lily is desperate to maintain her connection to the exclusive class of the affluent. Gerty is conscious of Lily’s predicament: “Miss Farish could see no hope for her friend but in a life completely reorganized and detached from its old associations; whereas all Lily’s energies were centered in the determined effort to hold fast to those associations, to keep herself visibly identified with them, as long as the illusion could be maintained” (261). In renouncing these “associations,” in accepting poverty and finding hope in a reorganized life, Lily would be alone. It is partly her fear of isolation and alienation from her old associations, the aspects of life with which she readily identifies herself, that keeps her from succumbing to her fate of poverty. 

Edith Wharton, "The House of Mirth"

            Lily Bart, in her complicated situation of lacking financial resources yet maintaining a place among the social elite, is constantly engaged in an interior struggle. She has an escapist mentality—an aversion to the constructions and guises of wealth—as well as an imprisoned one, desiring to exist outside of social limitations and the performative self.

            One of the major factors hindering Lily’s ability to distance herself from the constructions of wealth is her upbringing. Mrs. Bart was preoccupied with material display and exhibitions of wealth, these values in turn were internalized in her daughter. Though not with abundant monetary resources, for Lily’s childhood was “tugged at by the overflow of a perpetual need—the need of more money” (31), Mrs. Bart was renowned for living with the appearance of being richer than the family actually was. Concepts verbalized by her mother, such as those not flaunting wealth as “living like pigs,” echo within Lily as the plot continues and her own financial state becomes an object for speculation. She continually refers to “her old incurable dread of discomfort and poverty… the fear of that mounting tide of dinginess against which her mother had so passionately warned her” (288).

In addition, the value and promise of physical beauty leaves Lily to hinge on her chances to remain in among the rich. Without other means, the heroine seeks opportunity to objectify her own beauty as a commodity to reap wealth and fortune. Such traits imprison Lily Bart, perpetuating her cycle within the social strata of the upperclass and her desire to remain there. The importance of wealth, display, and appearance have been ingrained in her social values and serve as a barrier, preventing her from breaking from the guised world of wealth.

            Lily recognizes that “she had learned by experience that she had neither the aptitude nor the moral constancy to remake her life on new lines; to become a worker among workers, and let the world of luxury and pleasure sweep by her unregarded” (293). Despite her yearning to reconcile her desires to be both among and apart from the rich, Lily is able to trace the opposition of her dual mentality. Her escapist convictions are reinforced by her indebtedness to Tenor and the limited legacy given by her aunt, but the forces of her upbringing and accustomed comforts burden her pursuit of financial independence.

            Lily Bart’s interior conflict—the escapist versus the imprisoned mentality—links the search for financial agency, and subsequently, personal freedom, with the pressures of identifying with the powerful affluent and their performative exhibitions of wealth. The struggle of mentalities for Lily becomes a microcosm of the individual conflict in the world of social class.