![]() “Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.” This book was that for me, and I loved the way it reflected life. There’s a sense of waiting in the air, an excitement bordering on anxiety. ![]() Those weeks of squeezing all your summer bucket list items in at the last minute, the feeling of sunshine and warmth and long daylight gradually slipping through your fingers. ![]() That month of transition when you’re itching for fall but reminding yourself to savor the summer. I read this book in August, a month that has always felt like the “hour of the pearl” for me, too. It’s a sort of liminal space where thoughts, hopes, and dreams can run wild and judgment dissipates, if only for a brief while. ![]() I’m obsessed with the atmosphere Steinbeck created in Cannery Row. “It is the hour of the pearl–the interval between day and night when time stops and examines itself.” ![]()
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