East of Eden

Part One

• “But I think that because they trusted themselves and respected themselves as individuals, because they knew beyond doubt that they were valuable and potentially moral units—because of this they could give God their own courage and dignity and then receive it back. Such things have disappeared perhaps because men do not trust themselves any more, and when that happens there is nothing left except perhaps to find some strong sure man, even though he may be wrong, and to dangle from his coattails.”
• “They weren’t afraid of him any more, for he did not seduce their wives or lure them out of sweet mediocrity.”
• “It is the dull eventless times that have no duration whatever. A time splashed with interest, wounded with tragedy, crevassed with joy—that’s the time that seems long in the memory. And this is right when you think about it. Eventlessness has no posts to drape duration on. From nothing to nothing is no time at all.”
• “I think the difference between a lie and a story is that a story utilizes the trappings and appearance of truth for the interest of the listener as well as of the teller. A story has in it neither gain nor loss. But a lie is a device for profit or escape. I suppose if that definition is strictly held to, then a writer of stories is a liar—if he is financially fortunate.”
  • Does a story have in it neither gain nor loss? Or is it a matter of who gains or loses? The proximate lie profits a select few, the ultimate story profits a general whole?
• “What freedom men and women could have, were they not constantly tricked and trapped and enslaved and tortured by their sexuality! The only drawback in that freedom is that without it one would not be a human. One would be a monster.”
• “In all such local tragedies time works like a damp brush on water color. The sharp edges blur, the ache goes out of it, the colors melt together, and from the many separated lines a solid gray emerges.”
• “He felt the warmth for his brother you can feel only for one who is not perfect and therefore no target for your hatred.”
• “Her fingers were pink and soft, but the skin on the back of her hand seemed to have an underbloom like a pearl.”
• “There was change in everything. A flight of sparrows dropped into the dust and scrabbled for bits of food and then flew off like a gray scarf twisting in the light.”

Part Two

• “A man may have lived all his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, even the important ones, may have trooped faceless and pale. And then—the glory—so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished. And I guess a man’s importance in the world can be measured by the quality and number of his glories.”
• “But some men are friends with the whole world in their hearts, and there are others that hate themselves and spread their hatred around like butter on hot bread.”
• “Well, a man’s mind can’t stay in time the way his body does.”
• “He had an idea that even when beaten he could steal a little victory by laughing at defeat.”
• “Some people think it’s an insult to the glory of their sickness to get well.”
• “If a story is not about the heater he will not listen. And 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.”
  • Agree with the first bit. The strange and foreign, however, I don’t think can be discarded. The personal, known depends on the foreign, mysterious in ways we understand little.
• “I think this is the best known story in the world because it is everybody’s story. I think it is a symbol story of the human soul… The greatest terror a child can have is that he is not loved, and rejection is the hell he fears. I think everyone in the world to a large or small extent has felt rejection. And with rejection comes anger, and with anger some kind of crime in revenge for the rejection, and with the crime guilt—and there is the story of mankind.”

Part Three

• “Sometimes a man wants to be stupid if it lets him do a thing his cleverness forbids.”
• “‘Do you take pride in your hurt?’ Samuel asked. ‘Does it make you seem large and tragic?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Well, think about it. Maybe you’re playing a part on a great stage with only yourself as audience.’”
• “A man and a woman and a baby have a way of digging in, of pulling the earth where they are about them and scratching out a home. And then it takes all hell to root them out. But a crowd of men, nervous, lusting, restless, half-sick with loneliness for women—why, they’ll go anywhere, and particularly they will go home.”

Part Four

• “We have only one story. All novels, all poetry, are built on the never-ending contest in ourselves of good and evil. And it occurs to me that evil must constantly respawn, while good, while virtue, is immortal. Vice has always a new fresh young face, while virtue is venerable as nothing else in the world is.”
• “It is possible that if in the night the frog sound should have stopped, everyone in Salinas would have awakened, feeling that there was a great noise. In their millions the frog songs seemed to have a beat and a cadence, and perhaps it is the ears’ function to do this just as it is the eyes’ business to make stars twinkle.”
• “I know that sometimes a lie is used in kindness. I don’t believe it ever works kindly. The quick pain of truth can pass away, but the slow, eating agony of a lie is never lost. That’s a running sore.”
  • This comes from Lee. Interestingly, later in the chapter he lies about having pie when a fat man is over, and lies to Abra about Aron being home while Aron is ruminating in his room. Multitudes.
• “And once a boy has suffered rejection, he will find rejection even where it does not exist—or, worse, will draw it forth from people simply by expecting it.”

Cal spoke happily. “I’m going,” he said. “I’m going now. It’s right. What Lee said was true.” “What did Lee say?” Cal said, “I was afraid I had you in me.” “You have,” said Kate. “No, I haven’t. I’m my own. I don’t have to be you.” “How do you know that?” she demanded. “I just know. It just came to me whole. If I’m mean, it’s my own mean.” “This Chinaman has really fed you some pap. What are you look ing at me like that for?” Cal said, “I don’t think the light hurts your eyes. I think you’re afraid.” “Get out!” she cried. “Go on, get out!” “I’m going.” He had his hand on the doorknob. “I don’t hate you, he said. “But I’m glad you’re afraid.” She tried to shout “Joe!” but her voice thickened to a croak.

• Beautiful. Describes a healthy relationship to Eve. We have our being from her, but we need not be her. Recognizing she is afraid of the Light, and to not hate her for it, and to be grateful that she is afraid, that she covers up, for she hides from something Good and her hiding evidences that Good.

• “‘Do you think it’s funny to be so serious when I’m not even out of high school?’ she asked. ‘I don’t see how it could be any other way,’ said Lee. ‘Laughter comes later, like wisdom teeth, and laughter at yourself comes last of all in a mad race with death, and sometimes there isn’t time.’”
• “‘Maybe the knowledge is too great and maybe men are growing too small,’ said Lee. ‘Maybe, kneeling down to atoms, they’re becoming atom-sized in their souls. Maybe a specialist is only a coward, afraid to look out of his little cage. And think what any specialist misses—the whole world over his fence.’”
• “The medical profession is unconsciously irritated by lay knowledge.”
• “Can you think that whatever made us—would stop trying?”