My net of gratitude must be cast wide in the Steinbeck world. Without the steady and generous support of Robert DeMott and Jackson Benson for more than two decades, I would have stood in a dinghy, so to speak, without a line—both personally and professionally. My dissertation advisor, John Seelye, has been a model and a mentor for twenty-five years. For nearly that long, editor Michael Millman has supported my work on Steinbeck, as has Eugene Winick and as did kindly Evva Pryor, both of McIntosh & Otis. Elaine Steinbeck’s warmth, high spirits, and love of her husband’s writing sustained many projects—as did the gift of her friendship. My thanks also to Thom and Gail Steinbeck and to Kim Greer and Colleen Bailey of the National Steinbeck Center for camaraderie and professional guidance. And the scholarship and good cheer of many other Steinbeck scholars have been invaluable—particularly Louis Owens, John Ditsky, Warren French, Robert Morsberger, Brian Railsback, Mimi Gladstein, Donald Coers, David Wyatt, and Tetsumaro Hayashi.
My thinking about Steinbeck has been greatly enriched by scholars and writers who helped me plan conferences and forums over the years: Susan Beegel and Wes Tiffney on Steinbeck and the environment; Steve Webster and Barry Lopez on writing about place; Michael Kowalewski on regionalism; and Ruth Prigozy, Jackson Bryer, and Harold Augenbraum on Steinbeck as an “engaged artist,” the theme of the 2002 Steinbeck Centennial. The notion for this book was hatched in the early 1990s when I prepared lectures for Stanford University’s Knight Fellows—my thanks to Jim Risser, Jim Bettinger, and Dawn Garcia for a decade of invitations to speak at Asilomar, that lovely seaside spot, on “Steinbeck and place.”
Inspiration also came from my students. At San Jose State, discussions and ideas generated during twenty-two years of teaching Steinbeck classes have never failed to challenge my thinking. The scholarship of one former student, Katie Rodger—editor of Ed Ricketts’s letters and essays—informed my own chapter on Steinbeck and Ricketts. Since 2004, I have team-taught a course in biological holism every other year at Stanford’s Hopkins Marine Station, and my fellow teachers Bill Gilly, Chuck Baxter, John Walton, John and Vicki Pearse, and Nancy Burnett have offered as much insight as have the students. This would not be the book it is without that holistic experience.
Any author fishing around in archives must be in equal measure delighted by resources snagged and by the ever-cheerful assistance of librarians and volunteers. None of Melville’s sub-subs here. Many, many thanks for the guidance and invaluable resources provided by Maggie Kimball, Stanford University archivist; Dennis Copeland, director of the California Collection at the Monterey Public Library; Jim Conway, formerly Monterey’s beloved cultural historian and cultural attaché; Mary Thiele Fobian, volunteer at the Pacific Grove Heritage Society; Joe Wible, head librarian at Hopkins Marine Station’s Miller Library; Neal Hotelling at the Pebble Beach archives; and Pat Hathaway, whose photographic collection of the Monterey Peninsula is a local treasure. In Los Gatos, Peggy Conaway assisted with locating and scanning photos. Sstoz Tes, administrative assistant at the Center for Steinbeck Studies at San Jose State University provided rare photographs and materials from the center’s superb collection, and Bob Bain of Photographic Services has long been indispensable. In Salinas, Herb Behrens, volunteer archivist at the National Steinbeck Center, and Charles Willis, Salinas resident and collector of photographs, provided photos of early Salinas as well as substantial assistance. And Dick Hayman’s enormous Steinbeck collection (which I moved from Salinas to San José State box by box in 2004, for Bob Harmon to catalogue with his own steady dedication) helped my research in ways that he can hardly know.
Warm thanks to friends and associates who helped with some of the fine images in this book. Jim Johnson, bookseller, and Art Ring readily lent materials. Sharon Brown Bacon gave permission to use her stepmother’s (Carol Steinbeck Brown’s) photographs. David Heyler allowed us to photograph the inside of the 11th Street cottage, a rare afternoon of feeling Steinbeck’s spirit hovering over. David Ligare, Salinas artist, graciously offered one of his stunning Salinas Valley paintings for the cover of this book. And Nancy Burnett spent long and unforgettable days photographing Steinbeck country. Other support has been invaluable: the time to write, critical eyes to improve that writing, friends and family as ballast. Former provosts of San José State University, Marshall Goodman and Carmen Sigler gave me course releases to pursue research—warm thanks to both. Over the years the support of former Dean of Humanities Jack Crane has been significant. Others read drafts and made invaluable suggestions: Barbara Marinacci spent hours proofing; Carol Robles happily checked Salinas chapters; and ever-willing Jack Benson and Robert DeMott read portions of the book, as did Jim Conway, Herb Behrens, Ed Ricketts Jr., and Maggie Kimball. Without Bill Gilly’s fine-tuned editorial sensibilities—and love—this book never would have seen print.
To friends who helped enhance factual accuracy for the second edition many thanks: Mary-Jean Gamble, Neal Hotelling, Carol Robles, John Sanders, Michael Hemp. Friendship, as Steinbeck knew, is a fine vintage.
Finally, I thank those who listened and fully participated (Steinbeck’s word) in my frantic year writing the first edition and my more leisurely months implementing changes for the second. Colleagues Arlene Okerlund, Don Keesey, David Mesher, Marianina Olcott, and Chris Fink knew what I was up against, deadlines and all. Los Gatos friends eased tensions with lattes, fine wines, and inventive meals served up at Betsy and Whizzer White’s house of wonders. Distant friends and relatives cheered me on. My children—Ian and Nora—have lived with John Steinbeck all their lives and have forgiven my motherly lapses.
From all of this, it should be clear that this was, indeed, a holistic venture. Beginning this book with the blithe notion that I could quickly write up years of slide presentations, nudged gently by publishers Deirdre Greene and Nigel Quinney throughout the year of writing the first edition and the months correcting the second, I am left with a profound sense of how research is a joint venture, calling on two decades of associations with Steinbeck scholars and readers. To those I mentioned and to those I didn’t (with apologies for any daft omissions) much gratitude is extended for this book and for a career spent walking with delight in Steinbeck’s long shadow.