Travels With Charley: In Search of America
In 1960, at age 58, John Steinbeck set out with his French poodle, Charley, to rediscover the country he had been writing about for so many years. Together they crossed America from the northernmost tip of Maine to California's Monterey peninsula, stopping to smell the grass, to see the lights,... show more
In 1960, at age 58, John Steinbeck set out with his French poodle, Charley, to rediscover the country he had been writing about for so many years. Together they crossed America from the northernmost tip of Maine to California's Monterey peninsula, stopping to smell the grass, to see the lights, and to hear the speech of the real America. Steinbeck dined with truckers, encountered bears at Yellowstone, and reflected on the American character, racial hostility, and the unexpected kindness of strangers. Lyrical, perceptive, and surprising, it's an indispensable portrait of our national identity.
Publish date: January 31st 1980
Pages no: 277
Edition language: English
In the fall and early winter of 1960, John Steinbeck packed up a camper-converted pickup truck and along with his dog went in search of America. Travels with Charley finds Steinbeck making a round trip around the United States with his dog, the titular Charley, looking to rediscover the voice, atti...
I picked up this book because I needed a road trip book to fill a participation requirement in a book challenge. I'm so glad that I did. The author took time off from everything to drive across the country with his dog. He met all different types of people and had good and bad experiences. Polit...
I haven't read many travelogues; off-hand I can only think of three prior to this one. Two of those were pleasant enough but unspectacular and the other was so dull I did not finish. But this is Steinbeck! Travelogue by a Nobel Prize winning writer - surely it's got to be good? After all I'm a big f...
Enjoyable and unsettling. The first half of the trip was a joy to travel along with Mr. Steinbeck. The last half a pain in the ass and disagreeable as he never skirted from the social issues shoved in his face in 1960. I have read some accounts that prove this book was fiction, but I don't care. I ...
Wonderful. I don't even care if half of it was fiction; it's the feeling a book can give you that counts and in this case, it made me want to snuggle up under my blankets, pretending I was going to sleep in Rocinante under a canopy of Sequioa's.