East of Eden

“When a child first catches adults out—when it first walks into his grave little head that adults do not have divine intelligence, that their judgments are not always wise, their thinking true, their sentences just—his world falls into panic desolation.” 

Here, Steinbeck foreshadows potential conflict between parents and children, while alluding to the love that informs faith. Adam later discovers just how flawed his father really is. After this initial revelation about his father, Adam realizes that he must largely fend for himself in the world—that his father can’t save him from everything.

“Charles had one great quality. He was never sorry—ever. He never mentioned the beating, apparently never thought of it again. But Adam made very sure that he didn’t win again…He had always felt the danger in his brother, but now he understood that he must never win unless he was prepared to kill Charles. Charles was not sorry. He had very simply fulfilled himself.”

This passage solidifies Charles’s character as inherently violent. Steinbeck wants to convey the possibility that Charles’s personality is unchangeable and natural—that he can’t help his outbursts of violence and that they help him deal with his world.

“[N]early all men are afraid, and they don’t even know what causes their fear—shadows, perplexities, dangers without names or numbers, fear of a faceless death. But if you can bring yourself to face not shadows but real death, described and recognizable, by bullet or saber, arrow or lance, then you need never be afraid again, at least not in the same way you were before. Then you will be a man set apart from other men, safe where other men may cry in terror.”

This passage is significant in its characterization of the hypermasculinity that informs much of the novel’s rugged nature. Although it enforces the idea of men as pillars of strength in a brutally difficult world, something about the passage is spiritual too, as it conveys the vulnerability inherent in fear.

“Monsters are variations from the accepted normal to a greater or a less degree. As a child may be born without an arm, so one may be born without kindness or the potential of conscience […] to a monster the norm must seem monstrous, since everyone is normal to himself. To the inner monster it must be even more obscure, since he has no visible thing to compare with others.”

This characterization of monsters—specifically Cathy Ames—indicates the author’s questions about the immutability of good versus evil. Although the dichotomy between Adam and Charles first introduces the distinction between good and evil, Cathy Ames is inherently far more bad than Charles. In this passage, Steinbeck shows that Cathy lacks self-awareness of her guilt or consciousness. This view of “monsters” complicates the understanding of Cathy because it invites acceptance of Cathy’s evil as immutable, uncontrollable, and almost not her fault.

“[S]he could control him [Adam]—she knew that. She did not want to be married, but for the time being it was a refuge. Only one thing bothered her. Adam had a warmth toward her which she did not understand since she had none toward him, nor had ever experienced it toward anyone. […] She smiled to herself when she thought what Charles would say. She felt a kinship to Charles. She didn’t mind his suspicion of her.”

This passage characterizes Charles and Cathy as somehow kindred spirits. Although Charles is not nearly as evil as Cathy, she senses that he can understand her. Cathy never feels an alliance with others or even basic sympathy toward them. Here, Steinbeck implies that Cathy may have met her match.

“Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but the group never invents anything. The preciousness lies in the lonely mind of a man. And now the forces marshaled around the concept of the group have declared a war of extermination on that preciousness, the mind of man.”

Steinbeck’s narrator emphasizes the importance of the individual over the collective. Many consider this novel an icon of American literature in that its ideals connote something unique to the American psyche. Steinbeck’s narrator (and by extension, Steinbeck himself) sees the new technology of mass production as a threat to individual creativity. America has long grappled with this difficult balance of self versus community. Here, Steinbeck chooses a side: The individual mind is the source of creativity and progress. This is an important social code to note as Steinbeck reflects on this dilemma through his characters.

“It would be absurd if we did not understand both angels and devils, since we invented them.”

This statement connotes the push-and-pull nature of religion as a central element in questioning human nature. Although many of the characters directly allude to the Bible, they’re also warped versions of the biblical figures, which calls into question the immutability of human nature and explores the multiple layers of personality and self. Additionally, although the narrator characterizes Cathy Ames as inherently evil, this passage might imply a criticism of society’s labeling people as angels or demons.

“[P]eople are interested only in themselves. If a story is not about the hearer he will not listen. And I here I make a rule—a great and lasting story is about everyone or it will not last. The strange and foreign is not interesting—only the deeply personal and familiar.”

Here, Lee identifies an essence of storytelling that highlights Steinbeck’s approach to literature. Steinbeck seeks to hold up a mirror and show people different versions of themselves through the characters and their various personalities, pathways, and struggles. Through the narrator, Steinbeck parallels Lee’s thoughts on the self—that stories endure because people look for themselves in those stories.

“But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—’Thou mayest’—that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.’ Don’t you see?”

This is among the novel’s most important passages. Lee distills one of Steinbeck main focuses (free will) in one word: timshel. The idea that Cain didn’t have to sin, that every person is in control of themselves and has a choice in how their life unfolds, is crucial to the novel. The concept of free will is an element of the American ethos but contradicts the traditional notion that God has a plan we can’t avoid. Both subversive and classic Americana, this passage highlights Steinbeck’s theme that all people have free will and should therefore be responsible for themselves.

“It was not laziness if he was a rich man. Only the poor were lazy. Just as only the poor were ignorant. A rich man who didn’t know anything was spoiled or independent.”

With the money he inherited from his father, Adam can afford a life that he doesn’t need to work for. This situation—and this quote—highlights the issue of classism in American culture. Although Adam is clearly lazy, being rich affords him a respect he never earns. This starkly contrasts with the situation of Samuel Hamilton, who is poor but works hard and spreads kindness and generosity. In addition, it juxtaposes Lee, who is intelligent and hard-working on Adam’s behalf but whose life doesn’t afford him respect from his society. Although the story characterizes Adam as good, his laziness and ineptitude is a flaw.

“He knew she preferred his brother, but that was nothing new to him. Nearly everyone preferred Aron with his golden hair and the openness that allowed his affection to plunge like a puppy. Cal’s emotions hid deep in him and peered out, ready to retreat or attack. He was starting to punish Abra for liking his brother, and this was nothing new either. He had done it since he first discovered he could. And secret punishment had grown to be almost a creative thing with him.”

Like his mother, Cathy, Cal knows how to manipulate and hurt people by targeting their weaknesses. That his ability to hurt others has become “almost a creative thing” reveals how smart and cunning Cal is. Notably, Cal’s badness derives from his pain: the pain of rejection, of being loved less than Aron for no reason other than Aron’s lightness, and of being lonely and motherless. If Cal’s badness comes from pain, Steinbeck poses the possibility that Cal’s misbehavior is a reaction to trauma rather than necessarily a genetic trait passed on from his biological parents.

“A pain pierced Cal’s heart. His planning suddenly seemed mean and dirty to him. He knew that his brother had found him out. And he felt a longing for Aron to love him. He felt lost and hungry and he didn’t know what to do.”

This passage demonstrates Cal’s ability to feel guilt—regret about his misdeeds—that Cathy is incapable of feeling. It implies that Cal, while mean at times, isn’t evil like his mother. Cal’s craving for Aron’s love emphasizes Cal’s loneliness and his human need to be accepted. This shows that Cal is mean because he feels the pain of unwarranted rejection. Additionally, Cal is forced to realize that he’s not as secretive about his manipulation as he previously thought. His brother has known the whole time that Cal uses emotional weapons to hurt others. Also, although Cal feels bad about his sneakiness, he nonetheless suppressed that guilt to listen in on the conversation between Lee and Adam.

“I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one, that has frightened and inspired us, so that we live in a Pearl White serial of continuing thought and wonder. Humans are caught—in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too—in a net of good and evil. I think this is the only story we have and it occurs on all levels of feeling and intelligence. […] There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well—or ill?”

Here, in beginning Part 4, Steinbeck allows himself a moment of metacognitive reflection. A storyteller, writing through a storyteller’s voice, tells a story about telling important stories. Steinbeck acknowledges the form of the novel as he advocates for the power of storytelling in keeping people thoughtful and connected through generations. Furthermore, the assertion that men think about their good or bad deeds to deal with their morality provides another interesting connection to the novel’s religious parallels. Heaven and Hell are all about good and evil; people get into Heaven if they’re good or are sent to Hell if they’re bad.

“From his first memory Cal had craved warmth and affection, just as everyone does. If he had been an only child or if Aron had been a different kind of boy, Cal might have achieved his relationship normally and easily. But from the very first people were won instantly to Aron by his beauty and his simplicity. Cal very naturally competed for attention and affection in the only way he knew—by trying to imitate Aron. And what was charming in the blond ingenuousness of Aron became suspicious and unpleasant in the dark-faced, slit-eyed Cal. […] Where Aron was received, Cal was rebuffed for doing or saying exactly the same thing.”

Cal struggles with not only rejection but also identity. This passage emphasizes an important distinction between Cal and Aron. Cal isn’t unlikeable, but next to Aron he’s unlikeable. If they weren’t twins, if Cal was on his own, then Cal could receive and give the love he so desires. However, with Aron in his world, Cal will forever be secondary. Additionally, this passage emphasizes that Cal faces rejection even when he tries to be good. Cal can’t form an authentic identity because he’s not as bad as he seems to others, but in trying to emulate Aron to win love, he pushes people further away.

“I think your father has in him, magnified, the things his wife lacks. I think in him kindness and conscience are so large that they are almost faults. They trip him up and hinder him.”

Lee’s characterization of Adam is crucial to understanding the flaws of goodness. Like Adam, Aron’s innocence and kindness are obstacles to living a fully happy life. Consequently, rather than being good or bad, finding the middle ground may be the key. To be wholly bad is evil, but to be wholly good is foolish.

“As her hands and her mind grew more crooked, Kate began to rely more and more on Joe Valery as her assistant in chief, as her go-between, and as her executioner. She had a basic fear of the girls in the house—not that they were more untrustworthy than Joe but that the hysteria which lay very close to the surface might at any time crack through their caution and shatter their self-preservation and tear down not only themselves but their surroundings.” 

Cathy (Kate), once so independent and strong, begins to weaken. Notably, she has started to rely on another person to help in her dirty work. For most of her life, Cathy’s survival tactic was to not trust anybody else. However, she’s discovering her own barriers. This is Cathy’s punishment for living in sin; other sinners constantly surround her, and she must always sleep with one eye open, so to speak. Cathy’s reliance on Joe foreshadows her defeat.

“Cal’s mind careened in anger at himself and in pity for himself, then a new voice came into it, saying coolly and with contempt, ‘If you’re being honest—why not say you are enjoying this beating you’re giving yourself? That would be the truth. Why not be just what you are and do just what you do?’ Cal sat in shock from this thought. Enjoying?—of course. By whipping himself he protected himself against whipping by someone else. His mind tightened up. Give the money, but give it lightly. Don’t depend on anything. Don’t foresee anything. Just give it and forget it. And forget it now. Give—give. Give the day to Aron. Why not?”

Cal tries to practice timshel. He reminds himself that he feels jealousy toward Aron but that he needn’t let that or anything else be an obstacle. Cal realizes that in internalizing other people’s rejection of him, he has turned on himself. Instead of allowing himself to destroy his life, he wants to live free. This passage foreshadows Cal’s humiliation when Adam rejects his money. Although Cal’s trying hard to be a better person, he’ll end up giving in to the anger he tries so hard to control.

“‘No. I won’t want it ever. I would have been so happy if you could have given me—well, what your brother has—pride in the thing he’s doing, gladness in his progress. Money, even clean money, doesn’t stack up with that.’ His eyes widened a little and he said, ‘Have I made you angry, son? Don’t be angry. If you want to give me a present—give me a good life. That would be something I could value.’”

This passage represents a climax in Adam and Cal’s relationship. The cruel irony of what Adam is expressing here has multiple layers. Cal and Aron both know what Adam doesn’t: that Aron is not glad about his progress and plans to leave the university. In addition, Adam is doing to Cal what God did to Cain and what Cyrus did to Charles—arbitrarily rejecting a genuine, heartfelt gift. Cal is smart, hard-working, and has put much effort into becoming a better person. Therefore, what Adam wants from him is unclear. Adam’s assertion that even clean money is of little value shows his privilege. In a time when poverty is rampant, Adam’s distaste for money shows how sheltered, naive, and spoiled he has always been.

“They had something she lacked, and she didn’t know what it was. Once she knew this, she was ready; and once ready, she knew she had been ready for a long time—perhaps all of her life.”

Meeting Aron prompts Cathy’s death by suicide. She has finally been bested—but by what, she’s unsure. She’d always found herself to be smarter, abler, and better than everybody else around her. Her feelings of superiority meant that she couldn’t value other people. However, her twins are disconcerting. When she realizes that the twins have some force that she can’t master, she knows that she has finally met her match. If Cathy can’t win at everything in her world, she has no reason to continue living. This shows that Cathy isn’t just evil for survival. Rather, she has lived to impose her superiority on other people—that has been her main motivation.

“He knew that he had to tell his guilt to his father and beg his forgiveness. And he had to humble himself to Aron, not only now but always. He could not live without that. And yet, when he was called out and stood in the room with Sheriff Quinn and his father, he was as raw and angry as a surly dog and his hatred of himself turned outward toward everyone—a vicious cur he was, unloved, unloving.”

This passage exemplifies the struggle between good and evil. Although Cal knows what is good and right, he gives in to his bad side. He thinks that this makes him a “vicious cur”—but it manifests all our feelings when we have guilt. Cal internalizes his guilt as evidence that he’ll forever be unloved and unloving.

“He said softly, ‘We’re a violent people, Cal. Does it seem strange to you that I include myself? Maybe it’s true that we are all descended from the restless, the nervous, the criminals, the arguers and brawlers, but also the brave and independent and generous. If our ancestors had not been that, they would have stayed in their home plots in the other world and starved over the squeezed-out soil.’”

Intervening in Cal’s breakdown, Lee reminds Cal that his journey and his emotions aren’t unique. Lee asserts that good and bad exist in everyone—and Cal is no better or worse than any other person. Lee may even be alluding to the story of Cain and Abel—and their parents, Adam and Eve: The original human beings did and felt what Lee and Cal do, inviting the question of what could be more human than Cal’s inner struggle and outward explosions.

“When you’re a child you’re the center of everything. Everything happens for you. Other people? They’re only ghosts furnished for you to talk to. But when you grow up you take your place and you’re your own size and shape. Things go out of you to others and come in from other people. It’s worse, but it’s better too.”

Abra’s assessment of Aron’s flaw is important in understanding the downside of being “good” as well as the structure of the novel as a bildungsroman. Abra asserts that growing up is good and necessary, but it’s a process that Cal embraces and Aron rejects. Therefore, Cal is the protagonist. Furthermore, although Aron is good, he doesn’t grow out of this childish desire to see the world through only his dreams and immediate desires. He may be good, but he is also naive and foolish.

“Suppose it were true—Adam, the most rigidly honest man it was possible to find, living all his life on stolen money. Lee laughed to himself—now this second will, and Aron, whose purity was a little on the self-indulgent side, living all his life on the profits from a whorehouse. Was this some kind of joke or did things balance so that if one went too far in one direction an automatic slide moved on the scale and the balance was re-established?”

This quote highlights the absurdity and senselessness of a good-people/bad-people dichotomy. Although Adam and Aron are both good, they’re benefactors of a lineage of bad. Striving to be wholly good is challenging when their privileges stem from the bad things people have done on their behalf. Their financial situation and inheritance present an irony that emphasizes the arbitrariness of assigning good and bad as fixed labels. As Lee wonders here, that balance can shift and re-establish itself.