Down to a Soundless Sea
Read Down to a Soundless Sea Online
Authors: Thomas Steinbeck
Down to a Soundless Sea
“These are inspiring stories about hardy individuals who confront hardship, loss, and the potent power of nature with remarkable fortitude and grace. A notable addition to the Steinbeck legacy, this collection is enthusiastically recommended.”
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Library Journal
“Reading Steinbeck is like drifting back in time … The stories in
Down to a Soundless Sea
float effortlessly across the decades and conjure up images of N.C. Wyeth paintings come to life.”
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Pages
“Steinbeck writes about a bygone era with a passion for language, the lost land, and the unfathomable sea.”
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The Oregonian
“Thomas Steinbeck’s collection … proves that here the apple does not fall far from the tree.”
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Dallas Morning News
“Steinbeck’s naturalism and his accomplished voice make it clear that the family’s literary legacy is in very good hands.”
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Publisher’s Weekly
“Drawing on Monterey County’s rich history and culture, Thomas Steinbeck’s collection of short stories … evokes the storytelling skills that made his father, John Steinbeck, one of America’s most lauded authors.”
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Monterey Herald
“Thomas Steinbeck has found his own voice, and his own words … if
Down to a Soundless
Sea was written by John Smith, it would be worth picking up, and reading.”
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Bookreporter
“The stories … have a rhythm and tone apart from most contemporary writing. Steinbeck’s writing has a plain, simple but specific voice.”
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Pittsburgh Tribune
“A first collection … [that] proves [Steinbeck] a worthy literary heir to dad John. [The stories] are solid narrative feasts.”
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Fort Worth Morning Star-Telegram
“In … an intriguing debut collection of short stories, Thomas Steinbeck walks the same ground covered by his famous father. Drawing on local folklore and stories he heard while growing up, the author celebrates the offbeat characters of Big Sur and the sumptuous landscape of early Monterey County, its fishing villages and rolling hills.”
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San Jose Mercury News
“[This book] is like reading a delightful history … Once you’re in, you’re hooked, eager to discover what happens next. [These] are simply stories about simple people, told in that wonderful storytelling type of way.”
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Arts & Entertainment
“[These stories] are entertaining, and, yet, tell us more of the character and experience of the people who lived [on the Monterery coast] than any history book could.”
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The Historical Novels Review
“Superb writing … [Steinbeck’s] phrasing and imagery are truly distinguished and distinctive. This is storytelling at its best. This is true literature.”
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Carmel Pine Cone
“[These] six short stories and one novella are as rich as any minstrel’s art… [They] are richly detailed.”
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Seaside Coast Weekly
“Steinbeck gathers together history, folklore, and old-fashioned yarns and weaves them into heartwarming portraits of humble people bravely battling a rough environment, hardships, and losses.”
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Orange Coast
Down to a Soundless Sea
is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A Ballantine Book Published by The Random House
Publishing Group
Copyright © 2002 by Thomas Steinbeck
Readers Guide copyright © 2003 by Thomas Steinbeck and the Random
House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright
Conventions. Published in the United States by The Random House Publishing
Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
Ballantine and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc. Ballantine Reader’s Circle and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available from the publisher upon request.
eISBN: 978-0-345-45867-4
v3.1
The deepest roots sustain the greatest trees.
—J. E. S.
ONTENTS
AUTHOR’S
N
OTE
When I was young I discovered, as all children must, that certain venerable traditions connected to family life required total participation. Most families maintain these fabled customs one way or another and, for the most part, they are obscure in origin. If one is fortunate, these rituals have, at their core, a modicum of wit and entertainment.
My brother and I were particularly blessed with a family convention that involved storytelling. We sprang like noisy chicks from a gaggle of writers, composers, and entertaining raconteurs. My father, the ancient gander of our flock, was particularly fond of a ripping good yarn cleverly and deftly told. Even his taste in friends and acquaintances ran to the tall-tale-spinners and those whose recollections included great and elusive fish.
In our particular rite anyone could play, family or not, but
it was understood that the participants had to share in my father’s passion for skill. For it wasn’t just the story itself that would come under close scrutiny, but also the ability of the storyteller, which often commanded the critical balance in the final reckoning.
Storytelling efforts were usually called forward at the dinner table, though almost any impromptu gathering might inspire an eruption of, “Did your Mom ever tell you the one about cousin Fanny and the King of Tonga?” Family and guests would be cajoled into imparting “that yarn about Grandma Olive and the mountain lion” or “the one about Ernie Pyle and the North African bedbug that won the Purple Heart.” It made little difference what the story entailed or whether we had heard it before. The joy of the game always revolved about the mastery of the teller, and of that we never tired.
Like most youngsters, my brother and I always called for stories of far-off ranches, rugged shores, and the inspired exploits of our ancestors. Of course, we loved the funny stories, but there were others that would send us to our beds with chills of foreboding. Like most children, we secretly relished the mysterious, eerie, and hair-raising chronicles best.
I was drawn to stories of my father’s youth and the history of the period, anything that depicted the backdrop of his narratives. It became an effortless practice to immerse myself in the details of life in Monterey County from the turn of the century through the 1930s. It appeared to me as a singular time to have lived, and I envied every kaleidoscopic recollection of my father’s youthful adventures.
As children we had often visited relatives in Salinas, Monterey, and Watsonville, and in my youth, these places held great charm.
Every craggy mountain, rolling pasture, and rock-bound
cove came alive because of the stories I had heard from native relatives. I discovered in later years that I had accidentally assimilated more knowledge about the Monterey coast and its history than 90 percent of the people who actually lived there. The bulk of this incidental information was metabolized in the form of oral histories that were, for me, pure entertainment.