"... And the laughter of youngsters that have hungry and know that the soup awaits them, I'll be there."

What a long and arduous journey for this Joad family. And what a strong family, with incredible mother, the character of Man, true engine or planet around which all the family members, this character which I believe holds the entire novel in balance, a novel with such callous words hands and feet of farmers burning, oily as engines of these old bangers rolling along Route 66, as gnarled tree roots, and leaving no room for any time at any pathos ... Steinbeck's really strong and lightning in their purest day, more raw, complementary relationships between men and women of nature, the countryside, in the family setting. Unforgettable characters: Tom Joad course, and then Casy former pastor and his incessant questions about the purpose and roles of men here, Uncle John too, and then Man, Pa, Al, realistic dialogues and so well hacky, expressions in returning from, full of flavor, scenes of incredible courage and descriptions and moods - as always with Steinbeck - very alive, almost palpable, which often has the impression of feel at one with nature, the elements, and also food, food is everywhere in this novel, because hunger is pervasive. Steinbeck's writing always makes me so many effects, it is like a photographer familiar with good light, knowing always bring out properly the objects, nature, different times of the day, it is an extraordinary narrator describes so well the people, their faces, their gestures, their ways, their most beautiful or the ugliest expressions, always closer to the truth, including when it comes to get "into the shoes" of machinery - these machines which violate the earth, speaking of tractors:

"Behind harrows, seeders long ... twelve yards curved iron, erected at the foundry, orgasms triggered by levers, the methodical rape, rape without passion. The driver was sitting on his iron seat and was proud straight lines he had drawn out his will was intervened proud of the tractor he had neither loved, proud of this power that he could not control. And when that crop grew and was harvested, no man was crushed between his palms hot lumps and had let it flow the earth between his fingers. Nobody had touched the seed, nor fervently implored growth. They ate what they had not product, nothing bound them to their bread Earth gave birth with the irons and died slowly under the iron. because it was neither loved nor hated, it was neither the subject of prayers or curses. "

A harsh novel, but also sensitive and modest - the characters despite their miseries remain worthy and never feel sorry for their fate - and fortunately also leaves plenty of room for humor. All this accompanied by simple beings struggling to survive and leave us a message: never give up, and above all, rely on mutual aid, about each other, unity is strength. Unfortunately, Steinbeck also shows that for some bread crumbs, most men do not want or can not, come together to try to overthrow a system, or a trend, ending repression still prevail, but never reach really destroying the minds of some individuals, and the end seems clear move in this direction, the struggle for survival is perpetual, ongoing and should continue. This shows that this novel - especially through these species interludes in which Steinbeck sometimes gives his views on the situation and starts instead of emigrants driven from their land by the steamroller that represent industrialization and machine replacing the man, reflecting their doubts, their hopes - thus could not be more current and should serve to reflect, and Steinbeck, beyond the testimony of the human drama that caused the Great Depression and the great drought of 1935, that he staged to perfection, warns at the same time the rulers of this world, wealth grabbers, banks (some characters in the novel called the Monster) and other exploiters:

"One million hungry need fruit, golden mountains and watered oil.
And the smell of rot invaded the country.
We throw the potatoes in the river and station guards on the banks to prohibit fishing them unhappy. Bled pigs and are buried, and rot seeping into the ground.

There where a monstrous crime that is beyond comprehension.

There there such pain that it can not be symbolized by tears. There there a resounding bankruptcy if it annihilates all previous successes. Fertile soil, endless lines of trees with robust trunks and ripe fruit. And children suffering from pellagra must die because every orange should report a profit. And coroners fall on death findings: death due to undernutrition - and all because food rots, because you force it to rot.

People come armed with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards repel; they bring in their old bangers to try to pick up some oranges, but we watered the oil. So they remain planted there and watch the potatoes float aware of the wire; they listen to the screams of pigs that bleeds into a ditch and we covered with quicklime, watch the orange gradually turn into mountains of stinking slurry; and consternation reads in looks, and anger begins to shine in the eyes of the hungry.
In the soul of the people, the grapes of wrath swell and ripen, announcing the coming harvest. "

Really a great novel, I liked.