Giant by Mikael

Reviewed by Jeanne

Set in 1930s New York, Giant is an impressive graphic novel about the workers (mostly immigrants) who were constructing the now iconic buildings of the city.  The story centers on “Giant,” a huge Irishman who speaks little but who harbors secrets.  One of them is that he failed to send Ryan Murphy’s death notification to Ryan’s family in Ireland.  Instead, he typed a note as Ryan and sent it along with some money.  Then he receives a reply. . . .

This was a new book which caught my eye when it came in.  I picked it up on a whim and found a much richer, deeper story than I had anticipated.  The action centers on what life was like at that time for a whole class of people.  Most are laborers who work hard and play hard in squalid conditions; they dream of those left behind while they re-invent themselves and sometimes try to leave their past far behind. It’s gritty, moving, sometimes violent, hopeful, and very human.

The art features sepia and olive tones, giving an historical feel while showing the emotional lives of the people. There’s the sweep of the city from the dizzying heights down to the tenements; bits of newspaper give the headlines of the day, while Walter Winchell’s commentary is in the background.  There’s a woman photographer trying to make a name for herself; a writer who can’t write who lets Giant use his typewriter; the new kid trying to learn the ropes; and Mary Murphy, Ryan’s wife who doesn’t yet know she’s a widow, sending news of the family and the Troubles.

Then there’s Giant.  Taciturn to a fault, he gives away nothing of his background. He’s a solitary man who doesn’t talk about his past or speculate on his future. Who is he?

In the brief foreword, it’s explained that part of the genesis of the book was an old photograph of several men sitting on a beam high above the city.  No one knows for sure who took the photo; except for two of the men, no one knows who the names of the rest much less what became of them.  This was the inspiration for the book, to give a life and story to some of those nameless people who created some of the landmarks we take for granted.

I recommend this to anyone who likes a bit of American history as seen through the eyes of the working

The Path Was Steep: A Memoir of Appalachian Coal Camps During the Great Depression by Suzanne Pickett

Reviewed by Kristin

One side of my family is deeply rooted in the coal towns of eastern Kentucky. Even though my grandparents and great-grandparents left their familiar hills and hollows for the larger cities of Cincinnati and Marion, Ohio, I still grew up hearing some of the tales of how different, and often how difficult, life was in Appalachia. One thing that has stuck with me is my grandma saying that sure they (as children during the Depression) didn’t realize they were poor, because everyone around them was poor.

Suzanne Pickett’s book appealed to me because I wanted to read a firsthand account of living through the Depression in the kind of place my ancestors would have recognized. Born in Alabama in 1908, Pickett was intimately familiar with coal mining life as the daughter and wife of miners. Her husband David was an ambitious man who was always looking for a better job, whether it was near their families in Alabama or way up north in West Virginia. The family travelled back and forth in a 1926 Studebaker, quickly dubbed “Thunderbolt” as its engine operated at an ever increasing roar.

Two daughters, Sharon and Davene, rounded out Suzanne and David’s family. Amid all the homemaking, Suzanne managed to create a career for herself as a newspaper columnist. She wrote of nature, family, and faith. She was devoted to her extended family as well as homesick for her native Alabama and longed to visit as often as they could. Travel in the 1930s presented much more of a challenge before the advent of interstate highways. As I paged through the book, I was almost holding my breath as the family careened around mountainous curves in “Thunderbolt.”

Suzanne’s storytelling makes this Appalachian history comes to life. Reading this helped me to understand more about life, or I should probably say survival, during the Great Depression. The housing conditions, the transportation options, the scarcity and abundance of food in varying seasons—these are all things that my grandparents and great-grandparents would have experienced.

Suzanne must have had a natural knack for words, as she was not highly educated, but has told her story beautifully in this memoir. From love of family to striking coal miners, Suzanne writes vividly in this tale that portrays a unique place and time in our nation’s history.

The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

Reviewed by Ambrea

Simply put, The Grapes of Wrath tells the story of the Joad family and their desperate flight to California in the midst of the Dust Bowl.  After being forced off their land by the owner, who sold his land to the bank, who in turn sold it to a corporation—and so on and so forth—the Joads are making their way to the west coast in the hopes of a better life.

Although the novel is primarily concerned with the Joad family and their flight across the country, several chapters—I have heard them called “bridge chapters”—describe the overall experience of the families forced to flee their homes after the Great Depression began.  These “bridge chapters” not only connect the Joad family to the larger, collective experiences of these migrant people, they also introduce the reader to a more intimate portrait of suffering, terror, and desperation these people felt and experienced.

When I began reading The Grapes of Wrath, it captured my attention for one simple reason:  it kept me on the edge of my seat.  I was constantly wondering if the family would make it to California, if they would endure—if they would ever survive the journey.  On some level, this book made me wonder if happily-ever-after even exists.  It depicts some of the worst human behavior, some of the worst human suffering as people try to survive and make a better life for themselves.

Honestly, Steinbeck’s novel broke my heart—and then it came back to stomp it in the dirt.  As Steinbeck once wrote in a letter to his publisher, “I am not writing a satisfying story.  I’ve done my damndest to rip a reader’s nerves to rags, I don’t want him satisfied.  And still one more thing—I’ve tried to write this book the way lives are lived not the way books are written.”

And Steinbeck succeeds brilliantly.

The story of the Joad family occurs during a particularly chaotic time in American history.  It’s a decade when stock markets plunged and banks went under; when dust choked nearly half the country; when war—or an eviction notice—constantly loomed on the horizon, like the dust storms of Oklahoma and Arkansas; when economic hardship became the norm and exploitation of the poor, weak, and desperate happened regularly.

In The Grapes of Wrath, people suffer.  They’re treated as less than human—and may even become less than human through the fear and loathing of others, through their own tired desperation—and they die.  In short, Steinbeck succeeded in writing a book that will “rip a reader’s nerves to rags,” but he also succeeded in creating a hallmark piece of American literature that’s sure to rattle readers and make us think.