Cannery Row

I don't believe anyone would claim that Steinbeck can't write. It's not a matter of that at all.

Cannery Row is written in short little chapters that flip and flop from the main story to other microcosms of life in this neighborhood. I spent the first few chapters reading before bed and falling asleep after a couple chapters, and then picking it up again the next day having forgotten who some of the characters are, or their place in the narrative (if there was a place for them at all). Later on I started reading it in bigger chunks and that helped with comprehension at least, but ... I never totally got a feel as to why I should care what happened to these characters. Mack was kind of endearing at first, but the more he tried to swindle people he sees literally every day, and the more he tries to do nice things for Doc (to ill-effect), the less I liked him. To my mind, the other guys he lived with were mostly interchangeable.

It's like how people always think their drinking stories are the best time, and they are a good time ... unless you're the one who's sober. I felt like the sober one at this beer- and whiskey-soaked nightmare of a party.

It was just okay.