Grapes of Wrath: An Exploration of Themes

Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath parallels Biblical plotlines during many occasions, especially during its epic and finely crafted ending. Whether or not Steinbeck intentionally created all of the Biblical similarities in his book is entirely up to debate. The Bible is a huge book, and it employs many elements of good story telling along with powerful, universal themes. Naturally, Steinbeck does the same, in his own creation of a dramatic, emotionally exciting novel. Three main Biblical comparisons are usually drawn from the book. The first is a comparison between Casy and Jesus himself. The second stems from the similarity between Uncle John's disposal of the dead baby and the story of Moses. The third and final is that between the flood occurring near the end of the novel, and the story of Noah and The Flood. Each of these instances demonstrates powerful emotional themes, symbols, and elements for the creation of a steadfastly interesting story. The question of Steinbeck's original intent will probably always remain open, but what can be elaborated upon is the source of the power of these symbols. From their constant recurrence, it should appear obvious to us that they must hold a position central to the universal human experience.

Casy, while obviously imperfect, unlike Jesus, eventually demonstrates quite Christ like altruism and finally self sacrifice. He also has the same initials…Casy views the poor as his people, a group bound to his protection, much like Jesus viewed his own “flock”. Casy's calm acceptance of his own sacrifice is another powerful quality, once again utilized as well by the Good Book. In fact, much like Jesus Himself, Casy understands and even accepts outright betrayal by those he sacrifices his life to protect: “An' know what? Them folks he been tryin' to help tossed him out. Jus' as natural as rain.” (525)

In the same vein, Casy wins the ultimate victory by forgiving his killers for their sin: “You fellas don' know what you're doin'”(527). Jesus does the same, asking: "Father forgive them; they know not what they do." This unconditional forgiveness and wisdom in the face of murder entails a purity and clarity of mind many of us would love to possess. Such a powerful act is not fascinating simply because of its appearance in the Bible; rather, it fascinates people because it is a rare and powerful expression of pure goodness. While Casy's actual actions pale somewhat in comparison to those of Christ, we could certainly imagine the story of Casy emerging thousands of years later, raised to the same level by centuries of retelling. Regardless of the truth of the exact comparison, Steinbeck explores the same themes with Casy as the Bible relies on with Jesus.

Unfortunately, nearly every work of fiction has a character that can plausibly be declared a “Jesus”. This comparison is somewhat stale, though many are fascinated by the concepts of true altruism and moral purity. However, the scene with Uncle John and the baby is more complex and arguably more unique. Still, the parallels with the story of Baby Moses in the Bullrushes should ring a bell in the heads of any American over the age of....eight or so. Like Moses, the baby released by John journeys as a desperate hope for an entire people: “Go down an' tell em'. Go down in the street an' rot an' tell em' that way. That's the way you can talk.”(609) Desperation obviously exists in any situation where a newborn is left to the mercy of the water and charged with the future of an entire people. Yet, if we examine this metaphor directly, we may also imply that this sacrifice will pay off, that “They'll know then” (609). Just as Moses ultimately returned to the Hebrews and led them to freedom, so to might we imply that the lot of the migrants will eventually improve, that they might be delivered from eternal slavery. Still, there is no possibility of a stillborn baby returning and literally leading a people to freedom. In all probability, Steinbeck never intended the comparison to be interpreted literally, if at all.

Arguably, Steinbeck could have hardly ended the book more expertly than with the potent atmospheric backdrop of the flood. Any major flood, like the great Biblical Flood, provides a clear separation of time. There is the time before, and the time after. The flood brings a new beginning. Its way is destructive, but the ultimate result is a cleansing, a purification like the one that God took to an extreme in the Bible. After the flood, everything, to a degree, starts anew. Thus, by ending the book with a flood, Steinbeck gifts us with a surprising sense of hope, mysterious in its origins, possibly sensed by Rose of Sharon when “her lips came together and she smiled mysteriously.” Floods also add an interesting new dimension to human interaction. Every action is more desperate, but, at the same time, more pure, free from the usual underhanded, implied meanings of conversation and relationships in everyday life. It is through this time of clarity that Ma's control over the family is finally realized and understood: “Were a- getting outa here”, she said savagely, “getting to higher groun. An you're comin or you aint comin but im takin Rosasharn an the little fellas outa here” (613). Ma's rise to power is implied throughout the novel, but the flood provides the desperate backdrop against which her dominance springs into permanence. While the flood hardly exhibits the qualities of the Great Flood with any degree of accuracy, its connotations and its hold on our psyche are certainly related.

Steinbeck probably never crafted his writing merely in order to invoke comparisons with Biblical text. Instead, he, like many other storytellers, realized that the Bible has some good ideas for when it comes time to gain a hold on readers' emotions and thoughts. Authors tend towards these themes because they are things people have been thinking about for a very long time. Probably even before the Bible was written.