Grapes of Wrath

Sometimes one needs to link back to history to understand some of today's phenomena. History books, often skewed and distorted, are far from being the only reference for people seeking answers to complex issues. One might fare better by taking a fresh look at the body of literary works whose authors may have purposely crafted to circumvent the political correctness and the pressures of their times.

Here's a leaf from Steinbeck's "Grapes of Wrath"-- a novel that defies the dust of time and goes straight to the heart of yesterday/today's miseries of the common man:

If a bank or a finance company owned the land, the owner man said, The Bank—or the Company—needs—wants—insists—must have—as though the Bank or the Company were a monster, with thought and feeling, which had ensnared them. (…)

The squatting tenant men nodded and wondered and drew figures in the dust, and yes, they knew, God knows. (…) The owner men went on leading to their point: "You know the land is getting poorer. You know what cotton does to the land; robs it, sucks all the blood out of it." The squatters nodded—they knew, God knew. If they could only rotate the crops they might pump blood back into the land. Well, it's too late. And the owner men explained the workings and the thinkings of the monster that was stronger than they were. "A man can hold land if he can just eat and pay taxes; he can do that." "Yes, he can do that until his crops fail one day and he has to borrow money from the bank.”

“But—you see, a bank or a company can't do that, because those creatures don't breathe air, they breathe profits; they eat the interest on money. If they don't get it, they die the way you die without air, without side-meat. It is a sad thing, but it is so. It is just so."

The squatting men raised their eyes to understand. "Can't we just hang on? Maybe the next year will be a good year. God knows how much cotton next year. And with all the wars—God knows what price cotton will bring. Don't they make explosives out of cotton? And uniforms? Get enough wars and cotton’ll hit the ceiling. Next year, maybe."

They looked up questioningly. "We can't depend on it. The bank—the monster has to have profits all the time. It can't wait. It'll die. No, taxes go on. When the monster stops growing, it dies. It can't stay one size."

No further comment is needed to explain the relevance of such a sober look at the ills and the inadequacies of our system and the awkwardness of those attempting to enforce it.