Seriously, that’s all I have to say. When I was a kid, my dad often told me that East of Eden was his favorite novel. I’ve always wanted to read it, and now I’m glad that I have.
On any list of the most important American novels ever, East of Eden is sure to appear.
Whatever poignant comments I could make, I won’t, for it’s a certainty that all of them, and plenty others, have already been made by various commentators and in assorted master’s theses and PhD dissertations.
Obviously, if you haven’t read it, and you consider yourself an even remotely serious student of literature, let alone American literature, read it promptly. My one regret here is that I waited so many years before finally tackling this classic.