Reading CANNERY ROW on the heels of TORTILLA FLAT, the reader quickly notices many parallels between the two novels, both of which spotlight the ironies of human existence, including its happiness, despair, success and failure, and how conventional wisdom often fails dismally in describing the realities of existence. Despite the many parallels and equivalencies between them, however, the two novels differ in tone and treatment, if not in theme, and are equally worthy of the reader's attention. In fact, the reader's grasp of Steinbeck's commentary on life will remain incomplete if only one of the novels is read. By all means, learn from both.
CANNERY ROW shows us many great ironies, not the least of which is the fact that "Mack and the boys," a group of down-and-out bums, seem to be more content and fulfilled with their lot in life than is "Doc," the professional man who operates the Western Biological Laboratory. Doc is alone in the world; he lacks that human attachment that brings comfort and connectedness to those who are otherwise adrift in an uncaring universe. He has lost his only lover some time before our story begins, and his stumbling across the corpse of a beautiful, drowned girl is a painful reminder of that loss. An even more poignant reminder of his alienation from humanity comes in the words of Frankie before he is isolated in an insane asylum. Frankie's simple answer of "I love you" sends Doc retreating to the seclusion of his laboratory.
Contrasted with the loneliness of Doc, we find a fulfilling camaraderie among Mack and his cohorts. Penniless bums living in a ramshackle warehouse that they have coerced from Lee Chong, the Chinese grocer, sitting in chairs painted red with stolen paint, drinking from the liquor jug filled with the leavings of bar customers' glasses, these men possess the connectedness and the feeling of belonging to the human race that Doc has lost. Despite the facts that their few possessions have been purloined, that they are employed only when necessity drives them to it for short periods, and that they would surely be classified as ne'er-do-wells by any member of polite society, the men are not only comfortable with one another but also reach out to others, wanting to "do something nice" for Doc simply because they like him, and lavishing ignorant but fully sincere love on Darling, doting upon her even as she eats their only shoes and makes puddles in their warehouse-home.
Other residents of Cannery Row also connect to the human community, sharing what they have and supporting one another when the fates bring misfortune upon their fellow men. When influenza strikes down both adults and children of the Row, Dora sends her professional girls, bearing thick, hot soup, to sit with the sick after their "work shifts" have ended for the day.
Misfortune, aided by copious drink, does sweep through the company. A party for Doc, who does not return from specimen gathering in time for it, gets well out of hand, and Doc's laboratory and personal belongings suffer greatly as a consequence. At other points, the reader encounters suicide, crime, the callousness of a "system" that cannot understand or tolerate unfortunates such as Frankie. Cannery Row is not Utopia. Yet, somehow in the midst of impoverished existence, life will go on. Connections will be made. Humanity will be preserved. Logic and reason may not always apply, for the most despised dregs of society may be those who discover the paths of camaraderie, of sharing, of giving and of loving. Yet, despite such ironies, the vibrant, growing, fighting, reproducing life of the tidal pools will find its counterpart on land as well.
And what of Doc, whom we have described as divorced from this community of humanity? There is perhaps some promise there, too. At another party thrown by the boys for his birthday (though it wasn't really his birthday), Doc truly enjoys himself-despite the broken glasses, windows, and door. Essentially, Doc remains alone, but now he-and we-know that bridges do exist across that gulf of loneliness and that connectedness, even though it may be temporary, is possible.
Steinbeck's CANNERY ROW paints a portrait of humanity set firmly in the naturalistic genre. It depicts all of the grime, the drunkenness, the self-incriminations, and the rationalizations of men mired in poverty and ignorance, yet it also depicts them as survivors, and being a survivor is essentially what life is all about. Steinbeck's novels should probably be "required reading," if there were such a thing, for every adult, but I am somewhat dismayed at the thought that there are high school teachers who use them in their classes. The dismay is not because of any Pollyanna-ish notion that students should be "protected" from scenes such as Steinbeck draws, but rather because having more experience with life and its diversity is really necessary for a greater appreciation of Steinbeck's observations. Here, of course, I write in generalities, for there are undoubtedly students of all ages and at all levels of life whose experiences will enable them to understand and, therefore, to appreciate Steinbeck's verbal portraits of the human condition, and to them I highly recommend him.
