How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #1
They should have known Charley for a French national by his manners. (2.3.34)
Steinbeck makes friends with some French Canadians when he's up in Maine, and he implies that these French-speaking folks should have known Charley as one of their own (in a way) by his excellent manners. Sure...
Quote #2
Joe and I flew home to America in the same plane, and on the way he told me about Prague, and his Prague had no relation to the city I had seen and heard. It just wasn't the same place, and yet each of us was honest, neither one a liar, both pretty good observers by any standard, and we brought home two cities, two truths. For this reason I cannot commend this account as an America that you will find. So much there is to see, but our morning eyes describe a different world than do our afternoon eyes, and surely our wearied evening eyes can report only a weary evening world. (2.3.62)
Steinbeck reflects on how different two visitors' perspectives on a place can be. Of course, it's not just about being foreign—really, it's just about everyone being kind of different and foreign to each other, which means you're always coming at "reality" from different places. And that means that reality kind of shifts as a concept. (Deep thoughts, Shmoopers.)
Quote #3
Can I then say that the America I saw has put cleanliness first, at the expense of taste? And—since all our perceptive nerve trunks including that of taste are not only perfectible but also capable of trauma—that the sense of taste tends to disappear and that strong, pungent, or exotic flavors arouse suspicion and dislike and so are eliminated? (3.3.21)
Steinbeck observes that Americans have gotten pretty interested in sterile cleanliness, to the point where (he thinks) it's become more important than, say, taste. And that means that "exotic" things prompt "suspicion." We know he's just talking about food, but really, don't those word choices imply that this tendency is bigger than just food?
Quote #4
"Oh, sure! Hardly a day goes by somebody doesn't take a belt at the Russians." For some reason he was getting a little easier, even permitted himself a chuckle that could have turned to throat-clearing if he saw a bad reaction from me.
I asked, "Anybody know any Russians around here?"
And now he went all out and laughed. "Course not. That's why they're valuable. Nobody can find fault with you if you take out after the Russians." (3.3.28-30)
Ah, nothing bonds a community like identifying a common enemy to rally against, right? That seems to be what's happening in the town where the local shopkeeper avoids politics and strong opinions to avoid division, but everyone can agree on disliking the Russians.
Quote #5
"Maybe everybody needs Russians. I'll bet even in Russia they need Russians. Maybe they call it Americans." (3.3.35)
Steinbeck comments that the community-building power of a common enemy is not just visible in America. It might just be a human trait, and so the Russians probably bond over hating Americans, he muses.
Quote #6
"But aren't people scared of gypsies, vagabonds, and actors?" (3.3.83)
Steinbeck is surprised that people are so welcoming of an actor he meets while traveling about; he seems to think that the thespian would be too foreign and transient to be accepted. The actor admits that people are a little skittish at first, but he warms them up—plus, he doesn't charge that much.
Quote #7
To the sequoias everyone is a stranger, a barbarian. (3.10.4)
In a book that's pretty preoccupied with xenophobia and race-based fear and loathing, Steinbeck pauses for a sec and reminds basically everyone that, as far as the ancient trees in California are concerned, we're all interlopers (and "barbarians" too, for that matter). It kind of puts all this huffing and puffing about politics, civil rights, and what's "mine" and "yours" in a new light, huh?
Quote #8
A Texan outside of Texas is a foreigner. My wife refers to herself as the Texan that got away, but that is only partly true. She has virtually no accent until she talks to a Texan, when she instantly reverts. (4.1.3)
Although Steinbeck sees evidence of insularity throughout his trip, Texas is the only place where he outright states that a visitor is a foreigner. Hmm, it seems that people aren't kidding when they say Texas is like another country, huh?
Quote #9
In Europe it is a popular sport to describe what the Americans are like. Everyone seems to know. And we are equally happy in this game. How many times have I not heard one of my fellow countrymen, after a three-week tour of Europe, describe with certainty the nature of the French, the British, the Italians, the Germans, and above all the Russians? Traveling about, I early learned the difference between an American and the Americans. (4.2.2)
Steinbeck makes a really interesting point here: when we talk about other countries in the big picture, we talk about their people like they can all pretty much be summed up the same way. However, if you're doing this in front of a person from the country you're describing, you tend to say, "Oh, except for you." Ever have that experience? Or been on the other side of it, with people trying to generalize Americans and exempting you from the general wisdom about the U.S.? Well, it's pretty common, actually, as Steinbeck observes. It seems that human beings as groups kind of act and are similar (at least when viewed from afar), but they have a lot of particularity when, you know, you actually get to know them. There's a lesson in here somewhere about not generalizing about groups...
Quote #10
Beyond my failings as a racist, I knew I was not wanted in the South. When people are engaged in something they are not proud of, they do not want witnesses. In fact, they come to believe the witness causes the trouble. (4.2.13)
Steinbeck encounters a fair amount of suspicion in the South, since he's not from there (and, worse, he's a Yankee from New York). These are his observations on that score.