East of Eden: Families, Forgiveness, and God

he Free Press: ‘East of Eden’ and the Families We Choose to Forgive, by Michele McAloon:

As Netflix brings John Steinbeck’s 1952 classic to a new generation, Free Press Book Club moderator Michele McAloon reflects on what ‘East of Eden’ teaches us about family, forgiveness, and free will.

The book, which follows the lives of the Trask and Hamilton families, is built around the famous biblical tale of Cain and Abel. For those who are not familiar with that story, here’s a quick refresher: Cain and Abel were brothers. Cain, the older, was a farmer, while Abel, the younger, was a shepherd. Both brought gifts of sacrifice to honor God—Abel, the firstborn animals of his flock, and Cain, the first fruits of the land. God preferred Abel’s offering over Cain’s, and, seeing that Cain was jealous, warned Cain that jealousy would master him unless he learned to master it. Cain didn’t listen and killed Abel, earning the notorious honor of having committed the first murder in history. He also has the distinction of being the first smart aleck. After the murder, when God asked Cain where Abel was, Cain said, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” God was not amused and threw Cain into exile in the land of Nod, located on the east of Eden.

This story resonates for a reason. Sibling relationships are some of the most important and complicated in our lives. …

In East of Eden, there are two generations of brothers—Charles and Adam and Cal and Aron—who mirror the spiritual lives of Cain and Abel. Steinbeck uses flawed and fallible fathers to bring out jealousy, love, and deception between the brothers. The backdrop of the whole story is the perennial question of whether a parent can actually love multiple children equally. For readers, deep in our infantile hearts, the question echoes.

Life is not fair, and maybe sibling relationships are the first way we learn that lesson. Parents are human. They have human faults. The perfections we wish them to have are as elusive as the perfections we wish we had ourselves. We are left, then, with the choice of how we respond to these imperfections. Do we choose love and forgiveness, or haughtiness and rejection?

One of the central themes in East of Eden, and the ultimate resolution of Cain and Abel’s story, is timshel, the Hebrew word for thou mayest. This is meaningfully distinct from thou shalt: It is a choice, rather than an order, to conquer sin and be good. This is the option God presents to Cain before his fateful choice. We all have the freedom to direct our actions toward love and forgiveness rather than malice and revenge. …

Some 45 years after I first read East of Eden, I am a wife, a mother, and a grandmother. Rereading the book is like meeting an old friend about whom I have fond memories. As the pages turn, I feel humility and an aching familiarity within my own life. Was I the best parent? I know I loved each of my three children, and I did so ferociously and individually. Was that enough? Did they understand this? Do they understand it now?

I don’t think these are unusual questions for a healthy, introspective parent to ask. And I ask similar ones as a daughter. Did I serve my parents well? Was I steadfast and loving toward each of my siblings? I am, at times, afraid of the answers. But I know a life lived well and long is about forgiveness not only of others but of your younger self. …

[W]e share the eternal questions of what our responsibility is to one another, and to our families. After all, we know, intuitively, that what makes our lives rich and meaningful is each other.

After Cain killed Abel, God banished him to the east of Eden in the land of Nod, a Hebrew word meaning to wander. Steinbeck’s great masterpiece, fittingly, reminds us that to wander alone is not to live at all.

New York Times, ‘You’re Going to Be Changed’: Reading ‘East of Eden’ for the First Time