AUTHOR: John Ernest Steinbeck was one of the most successful of the regionalist in the 1930s.
He was
born in Salinas in 1902. He is an articulate and a socially conscious artist. He perfectly understands
human feelings. Tortilla Flat (1935), Of Mice and Men (1937) and the grapes of worth (1939) are his best
known novels. BREAKFAST is one such short story in which purity of living is described.
Summary: The story is about poor family who is willing to work happily for better livings. In this story,
writer has a sunken (deep) memory which he is recalling again and again and this memory gives him
curious warm pleasure.
It was early in the morning. The eastern mountains were dark blue, but behind them the light stood up
faintly colored at the mountains rims (edge border of mountain) with washed red, growing colder, grayer
and darker as it went up, at a place near west, it merged with pure night. It was cold, not painfully but
cold enough so that I can rub my hands and shoved them in pocket. Down in the valley where I was, the
earth was that lavender grasp (fragrant European plant of mint family) of dawn. I walked along the
country road and there I saw a tent. Beside the tent there was a flash of orange fire seeping out of the
cracks of an old, rusty iron stove. There I saw a young woman besides the stove. She was dressed in a
faded cotton skirt and waist. She has carried a baby in a crooked arm and the baby was nursing. The
mother moved about, poking the fire, opening the door and all the time the baby is nursing, but that didn’t
interfere with the mother work. There was something very precise and practiced in her movements. The
orange fire flicked out of the cracks in the stove and threw dancing reflections on the tent. I was close to
the tent and I could smell frying bacons and baking bread having pleasantest odors. From the east light
grew swiftly. I came near the stove and stretched my hands out to get warm. After that, a young and old
man came out of the tent. They were dressed in blue dungarees (work overall). They were sharp faced
men and look much alike. The younger man had a dark beard and older had gray beard. Their hands and
faces were wet. First they quietly saw at lightening east then they turned and saw me. Then they said me
good morning. Their face was neither friendly nor unfriendly. After that the girl kept to her work, her face
averted and eyes on what she was doing. She set tin cups on a big packing box, set tin plates and knives
too. Then she scooped fried bacons out of deep grease and laid it on big tin platter to fry them. After that
she opened the rusty oven and took out a square pan full of high big biscuits. The old man asked me about
the breakfast and I said yes. The young man said: we had twelve days work so far. The girl spoke from
stove that they even got new clothes. The two men began to smile while listening to the girl. We filled our
plates, poured bacon gravy over our biscuits and sugared our coffee. The older man filled his mouth full
and chewed and swallows. Then he thanked to God. We all ate quickly, frantically and refilled our plates.
The hot, bitter coffee scalded (burnt with hot liquid) our throats. After that the two men faced the east and
their faces were lighted by the dawn. I looked up for a moment and saw the image of mountain and light
coming over it and reflected in the older man eyes. Then the two men threw the cups on ground and stood
up. Younger man asked me: do you want to pick cotton with us. But I denied and said thank you for the
breakfast. The old man waved his hand in negative and said good bye to me. The air was blazing with
light at eastern skyline and I walked away to country road. That’s all I know and of course some of the
reasons why it was pleasant. But there was some element of great beauty there that makes the rush of
warmth when I think of it.