"I figgered the devil was the enemy. But they's somepin worse'n the devil got hold a country, an it ain't gonna let go till it's chopped loose."
Grapes Of Wrath is the story of the desperate battle of migrant labourers with the rich, greedy, malevolent and the mean. When the Joads arrive in California from their native Oklahoma, their troubles and tribulations are rewarded not by bounty, but by even more hardship. What ensues is a timeless battle. It is waged by the spirit of the downtrodden on the one side, and by the mercenary mean muscle of the other. The story is primordial and resonates with any reader with a sense for perception.
The classic work of fiction describes a world where the rich, with their glitzy cars, ride alone and never mind hitting a man or a noble dog should one come in their way. Then there is the poor and oppressed who, despite their condition, extend a hand time and time again and never forget what is important on the great round dustbowl. The wheel in the sky seems to work against those who toil and possess a heart, but cruelty and oppression are exposed as mere facades that once removed reveal nothing more than a faceless corporate entity bereft of the right to exist.
It is in this setting that John Steinbeck writes in amazingly authentic and sanguine dialogue the flight of the strong-at-heart from, and again into, the belly of a system bent on browbeating compassion, kindness and veracity.