The White Quail

by John Steinbeck

Genres: Short Stories

Unknown Binding

About the author

John Ernst Steinbeck was an American writer. He won the 1962 Nobel Prize in Literature "for his realistic and imaginative writings, combining as they do sympathetic humor and keen social perception". He has been called "a giant of American letters."
During his writing career, he authored 33 books, with one book coauthored alongside Edward F. Ricketts, including 16 novels, six non-fiction books, and two collections of short stories. He is widely known for the comic novels Tortilla Flat (1935) and Cannery Row (1945), the multi-generation epic East of Eden (1952), and the novellas The Red Pony (1933) and Of Mice and Men (1937). The Pulitzer Prize–winning The Grapes of Wrath (1939) is considered Steinbeck's masterpiece and part of the American literary canon. By the 75th anniversary of its publishing date, it had sold 14 million copies.
Most of Steinbeck's work is set in central California, particularly in the Salinas Valley and the California Coast Ranges region. His works frequently explored the themes of fate and injustice, especially as applied to downtrodden or everyman protagonists.

Reviews

[Jared Standefer]

Apparently people consider this his most misogynistic story. Which I get, this character is pretty unbearable. But honestly I kind of love her. I think she represents what it’s like to accomplish your purpose, and what happens to the self after your original purpose is completed. You go a little crazy. There’s some shit about relationships somewhere in here, but I don’t care enough to dissect. Don’t date crazy.

[Ben Nordstrom]

I especially liked the part about crushing the snails. And where both characters a little messed up. It’s like the author is saying that everyone’s selfish, confused, incapable of sharing their own feelings truly, and definitely lonely. Or at least he probably is.

[ｓｉｍ ✪]

"Ti amo tanto, ma ho anche un po' paura di te"

[S D]

Gripping, beautiful. Mary Teller has the mind of a creative, Harry Teller has the mind of a worker.

Mary is also nutty than a fruitcake. She revels in control—be it her garden or the little ways she controls her husband.

Harry longs for a bit of control—his desire to get a dog, to understand his wife—and thus shoots the quail—his wife—subconciously, purposely, before burying it along with his feelings. Because that is what is expected.

[Liam James]

This was flat out depressing, and I'm not saying it wasn't good, it was, it was just, well depressing. They both are at fault in my view. Harry is obsessed with how pretty Mary is—for why else would he put up with so much—and Mary, where to begin, well, for one, she's in love with herself. Deeply. She literally believes she's flawless—the white quail is she—and unable to be wrong. I was intrigued when she was looking back upon her past and it referenced the death of her father; fantastic writing. Steinbeck really respects his readers to pick up on that brief three, four word utterance. Anyway, she shuts him out emotionally and literally out of her bedroom at night and he never complains. She sees that quail and sees herself and orders Harry to kill what she sees as a threatening cat. I won't tell you what he does, or what he tells himself he meant to do, but I'll say it's damn sad, and you'll know what I mean when I say depressing.

[Jennifer]

Well that was a messed up story. The quail is me so he shoots the quail. Shorty story about what happens when two people spend all their time working towards their own goals not together. Of course, Henry was lonely. They didn’t build their life together. Story had biblical overtones with the perfect garden and the stray cat coming into the garden unwanted.

Psalm 105:40
"They asked, and he brought them quail; he satisfied them with the bread of heaven"

[Sophie]

- 3 stars
- ebook

[helen blake]

3.5, i think steinbeck is a beautiful writer

[Hayden Hayes]

Again not my favorite. The descriptions of the garden were great though. Ready to finish this short story run already.

[Greg]

Painful really, and probably indicative of most relationships. Isn't there always a part of someone else upon which we want to stomp? Just a tad? Is it just me?