Why Book Clubs Matter: Reflections on The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck

Today I attended another wonderful book club meeting organized by iCarte, iParte here in Bucharest, where we discussed The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. The discussion stayed with me long after it ended — not only because of the novel itself, but because it reminded me once again why book clubs matter so much.

My love for reading started when I was a teenager. I still remember my subscription card at the city library and the feeling of entering that quiet building full of shelves and possibilities. Summers were especially magical: long hot afternoons followed by evenings spent reading until very late at night, completely immersed in stories. I read everything I could get my hands on — classics, adventures, dramas, contemporary literature — and books slowly became one of the most important constants in my life.

Years later, after moving to Bucharest, I discovered another beautiful dimension of reading: book clubs. For a while, I used to attend a monthly book club organized by Editura Litera, and I loved the experience of discussing literature with other passionate readers. Then the Covid pandemic came and changed so many aspects of social life, including these gatherings. Afterwards, I tried to find other book clubs, but many of them took place during weekdays, and because I usually work until rather late in the evening, I rarely managed to attend.

Then, around two years ago, I discovered the book club organized by iCarte, iParte — and it felt like rediscovering a small community I had missed for years. Their meetings take place on Saturdays, which makes participation much easier for me. Although I still cannot attend every month, I go whenever I can, and every meeting reminds me why these spaces are so valuable. Beyond the books themselves, there is something deeply meaningful about the networking, the exchange of perspectives, the chance to meet contemporary authors, and the joy of debating literature with people who genuinely love reading.

This month’s book was The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck — one of the most powerful novels I have ever read.

Published in 1939, the novel follows the journey of the Joad family during the Great Depression in the United States, particularly during the Dust Bowl years, when severe drought and economic collapse forced hundreds of thousands of farming families to leave their homes and migrate westward in search of work and survival. Steinbeck wrote the novel almost in real time, inspired by actual migrant camps and the stories of displaced workers he encountered in California.

At its core, the book is both deeply personal and profoundly social. Through the story of one family, Steinbeck portrays the suffering of millions.

The Joad family itself almost functions as a map of society in crisis. Ma Joad becomes the emotional and moral center of the novel — resilient, practical, and endlessly determined to keep her family together even as everything collapses around them. Tom Joad undergoes one of the most important transformations in the book: from a man focused mainly on his own survival to someone who begins to understand solidarity and collective struggle. Rose of Sharon evolves from fragility and dependence toward one of the most powerful symbolic gestures in modern literature. Jim Casy, the former preacher, abandons traditional religion and becomes a voice for human solidarity and social justice. Even the children play an essential role, showing how poverty and migration reshape innocence itself.

The symbolism of the novel is incredibly rich. Even the title, The Grapes of Wrath, carries enormous meaning: the “grapes” symbolize both abundance and the growing anger of exploited people — a fury slowly ripening beneath suffering and injustice. The road westward becomes a symbol of both hope and illusion, a promise of a better future that often turns into disappointment. The turtle crossing the road early in the novel symbolizes perseverance and survival against overwhelming odds. The tractors destroying farms represent the impersonal machinery of capitalism and economic systems that erase human lives without empathy.

One of the things I admired most was the way Steinbeck structures the novel. He alternates between chapters following the Joad family directly and broader, almost documentary-like chapters describing the social reality of the Great Depression. This narration style constantly reminds the reader that the Joads are not an isolated case — they are one family among millions enduring the same tragedy.

The book contains many unforgettable moments. The deaths of the elderly family members shortly after the migration begins feel symbolic: the old world, rooted in land and tradition, cannot survive this violent transformation. There is the heartbreaking scene where Ma cooks while starving children from nearby camps silently stare at the food. There are scenes showing children learning how to use toilets in government camps, small moments that reveal both dignity and humiliation at once. There is the endless and exhausting search for work, where thousands compete for a few miserable jobs. And there is the devastating reunion between Tom and Casy, ending with Casy’s death — a moment that transforms Tom forever.

The camps themselves become important symbols in the novel. The improvised camps represent chaos, poverty, and exclusion, while the government camps briefly offer something rare: dignity, order, and humanity. Through them, Steinbeck asks whether society is capable of treating vulnerable people with compassion rather than fear.

The ending of the novel remains one of the most powerful and controversial endings I have ever encountered. It refuses to offer easy comfort or closure. Instead, it leaves the reader with a difficult but profoundly human message about sacrifice, solidarity, and survival.

When the book was published, it generated enormous controversy. Some praised it as a masterpiece and an essential social document; others accused Steinbeck of exaggeration or political radicalism. The novel won the Pulitzer Prize, and Steinbeck himself later received the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1962. Beyond The Grapes of Wrath, he is also known for masterpieces such as Of Mice and Men and East of Eden.

For me personally, this has become one of my favorite books. I loved Steinbeck’s writing style — simple yet deeply emotional, realistic yet symbolic at the same time. Few novels manage to combine social history, philosophical reflection, and human emotion so naturally.

And perhaps that is exactly why book clubs matter so much: because they transform reading from a solitary act into a shared experience. A book continues to live through conversation, interpretation, disagreement, memory, and emotion.

I would love to hear: what books stayed with you long after you finished reading them?