Travels With Charley (1962) by John Steinbeck

A mesmerizing travelog by one of America's greatest writers

In Travels With Charley John Steinbeck attempts to gaze into the heart and soul of American life. In his typical down-to-earth style he infuses his writing with philosophical depth and wit while keeping it accessible for a wide range of readers. 

After living on New York’s Long Island for 25 years and traveling around the world Steinbeck felt estranged from America’s quintessential nature. He writes, “I had not heard the speech of America, smelled the grass and trees and sewage, seen its hills and water…in short, I was writing of something I did not know about.” Growing up in fact Steinbeck had a keen awareness for his America. Far from the glitz and glam of New York City, he was born in the humble agricultural town of Salinas, California in 1902. His childhood was reminiscent of Tom Sawyer where as a boy he romped around Salinas Valley. He also spent much of his adolescence in the coastal town of Monterey where he eventually worked on Cannery Row with his best friend Ed Ricketts. 

At nearly 60 years old and in quite poor health, Steinbeck loaded up his truck for his three month journey. He had a custom-made camper shell installed on his pick-up. It was no 35 foot mobile home, but it held enough space for a bed, a small table, a typewriter, plenty of adult beverages, and too many books (Steinbeck’s words, not mine). He named it Rocinante after Don Quixote’s horse. Originally he had planned to go alone. One of his sons asked to accompany him, but Steinbeck wanted to prove to himself that he could do it alone–well almost alone. At the last minute with the convincing of his wife, Elaine, he decided to bring along his mature poodle Charley. Charley is given a robust personality which seems to keep Steinbeck grounded as they converse. On an epic odyssey like this one it was probably easier to dictate one’s pondering thoughts to a living creature instead of simply to an inanimate typewriter. 

They traveled counterclockwise roughly the total circumference of the continental U.S. He begins by giving a detailed account of Maine. In fact, the first quarter of the book takes place primarily in New England. It seems that the start of his journey provided him with the most energy for contemplation and detailed writing. Maybe more than any other 20th century American writer, Steinbeck is known for writing about working class people. He spent much of his early life hanging around with lowly migrant workers. In Maine he meets a family of migrant Canadian potato pickers. The family is close knit and they’re reminiscent of Steinbeck’s fictional characters in The Grapes of Wrath or Of Mice and Men. 

He and Charley continue into northern New York where he attempts to see Niagara Falls but loses a battle with Canadian border security and is redirected. He moves through the Midwest where he notes a distinct warmth in the people not felt in the more taciturn folks of New England. In Wisconsin he says he was unprepared for the beauty. He writes “[t]o awaken here might make one believe it a dream of some other planet,” and it has “the engraved record of a time when the world was much younger and much different.” I can second this perspective. I spent a week in central Wisconsin and was bathed in greenery. It’s as if the earth itself, unable to communicate verbally, compensates for this with an abundance of growth.   

Onto North Dakota where he–like Lewis and Clark 160 years earlier–feels a mix of awe and angst. Laying before him are the unending flat lands and upcoming Badlands which he states “are like the work of an evil child…a spite to Heaven, dry and sharp, desolate and dangerous.” Then in Montana, where he professes an infatuation with its soaring mountain peaks, fast rivers, and unpretentious people. He visits Yellowstone where the normally tame Charley furiously tries to attack a bear. Onto the pine mountain forests of Idaho where he tactfully comes between a father and son’s argument. Like many people Steinbeck encounters, the teenage son is desperate to travel anywhere away from home. 

Into Seattle and then down the Pacific Coast he describes the mighty coastal redwoods or “ambassadors from another time.” He enters Monterey, the town which probably molded his character more than any other. He visits a couple of old pals at a local bar where they try to persuade him to return permanently. Their tactics are futile as Steinbeck soon after recalls what he learned from Tom Wolfe (another famous American writer), “You can’t go home again because home has ceased to exist except in the mothballs of memory.” Throughout TWC Steinbeck explores many such themes, some with seemingly pessimistic undertones. He is a realist–never shying from the hard truths underlying labor rights, migration, intergenerational trauma, the inevitability of change, and mortality. Read any of his novels and this will soon be elucidated. But maybe what draws readers back to Steinbeck is the spark of imagination, ingenuity, and hope his characters embody. Their usual sad fates do not overshadow their endearing personas. 

After heading east out of California he and Charley travel through America’s desert territory and into Texas where he takes a second extended stop to spend time with his wife. They visit some wealthy ranching friends where he doesn’t ever seem to quite fit in. He seems most at ease when he’s eating with the kitchen staff (the humbler people compared to their bosses). He dedicates nearly 10 pages to an analysis of Texas and its precarious relationship with the rest of the country. 

The most unfamiliar territory for Steinbeck is the Deep South. He describes a naivety about the racial prejudice and violence that has plagued this territory for 300+ years. Growing up he recalls knowing only one Black family, the Coopers, who were hard working and well-respected by others in the community. He spends most of his Southern time in Louisiana where he specifically wanted to observe a reoccurring scene he had heard much about: the “Cheerleaders.” They were a group of women whom Steinbeck notes “wanted to be admired…These were crazy actors playing to a crazy audience.” They made national headlines by standing outside recently desegregated schools each morning flinging nauseating racial slurs at African-American children. Steinbeck leaves the South befuddled at the stupidity of these choices. 

Some Steinbeck critics out there (whoever you are) throw shade at TWC because it’s believed that he exaggerated or fictionalized some of his experiences. Even some Steinbeck fans like fellow book blogger Murray Ellison admit to this possibility. But Steinbeck himself made no objection to mixing in some fictionalized elements. He did the same thing in East of Eden in which he fused his own family’s history with fictional elements. It does little to diminish what I see as the most compelling aspect of TWC: Steinbeck’s beautifully crafted prose about the physical landscape coalescing seamlessly with his philosophical, historical, and sociological insights. The mountains, plains, and deserts are interconnected with the human story. Rich descriptions of setting put the land itself as a central character. Steinbeck is what I deem a professional “writers philosopher.” In TWC there’s much to be learned about ideas, but lovers of literature will recognize that his writing catalyzes his ideas to a level where science, history, and poetry synthesize gracefully leaving readers’ heads and hearts fulfilled.

TWC can be enjoyed without ever reading any of Steinbeck's other books. But because it’s one of the very last ones he ever wrote, readers familiar with his earlier works will undoubtedly see the mind behind Joseph Wayne, the Joad family, Danny, George Milton, Lennie Small, Adam Trask, and many others. 

Remembering that Steinbeck’s overarching goal of this voyage was to reconnect with and reveal some essence of America, it’s difficult for him to state with certainty whether or not he achieved this goal. In a few places his tone feels melancholy as he grasps for an answer, “I wish it were that easy. But what I carried in my head and deeper in my perceptions was a barrel of worms.” And later he states, “I felt helpless to assimilate what was fed through my eyes.” One challenge of all travelogs is that they can not be meticulously molded like a fictionalized plot or characters. Writers become characters in their own right and go “wherever the wind blows.” This was Steinbeck's mindset throughout his journey, recalling that he was never a fast writer or one who cared to report “just the facts.” He uses maps only when totally necessary, preferring instead to ask the locals for directions. He takes time to immerse himself and reflect on his experiences. Whether or not Steinbeck ultimately achieved his goal seems irrelevant since readers of TWC will be rewarded with a thoughtful and beautifully written travelog where the journey takes precedence over any final destination.