the story is about a por family kino and his wife juana and their son cyotito ; this family has found the big pearl in the world. Te pearl chang their. Editorial Reviews. From Library Journal. February 27 marks the great Steinbeck's th # in Children's Classic Literature; # in Children's Classics ( Books); # in Children's eBooks (Kindle Store). Would you like to tell us about a. The Pearl - Kindle edition by John Steinbeck. Download it once and read it on your Kindle device, PC, phones or tablets. Use features like bookmarks, note.
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The Pearl by John Steinbeck. "In the town they tell the story of the great pearl - how it was found and how it was lost again. They tell of Kino, the fisherman, and of. Read "The Pearl" by John Steinbeck available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. “There it lay, the great pearl, perfect as the. The Pearl by John Steinbeck. Read online, or download in secure EPUB format.
He was of German, English, and Irish descent. John's mother, Olive Hamilton, a former school teacher, shared Steinbeck's passion for reading and writing. There he became aware of the harsher aspects of migrant life and the darker side of human nature, which supplied him with material expressed in such works as Of Mice and Men. Steinbeck graduated from Salinas High School in and went from there to study English Literature at Stanford University in Palo Alto , leaving, without a degree, in He travelled to New York City where he took odd jobs while trying to write. When he failed to have his work published, he returned to California and worked in as a tour guide and caretaker  at Lake Tahoe , where he met Carol Henning, his first wife.
During this period of the Great Depression , Steinbeck bought a small boat, and later claimed that he was able to live on the fish and crab that he gathered from the sea, as well as fresh vegetables from his garden and local farms. When that didn't work, Steinbeck and his wife were not above getting welfare, or rarely even stealing bacon from the local produce market. Ricketts had taken a college class from Warder C.
Allee , a biologist and ecological theorist, who would go on to write a classic early textbook on ecology. Ricketts became a proponent of ecological thinking, in which man was only one part of a great chain of being, caught in a web of life too large for him to control or understand.
Between the years to , Steinbeck and Ricketts became close friends. Steinbeck's wife began working at the lab as secretary-bookkeeper. The Pastures of Heaven , published in , consists of twelve interconnected stories about a valley near Monterey, which was discovered by a Spanish corporal while chasing runaway Indian slaves.
In Steinbeck published The Red Pony , a page, four-chapter story weaving in memories of Steinbeck's childhood. Although he still had not achieved the status of a well-known writer, he never doubted that he would achieve greatness.
They are portrayed in ironic comparison to mythic knights on a quest and reject nearly all the standard mores of American society in enjoyment of a dissolute life centered around wine, lust, camaraderie and petty theft. It was all part. Sometimes it rose to an aching chord that caught the throat, saying this is safety, this is warmth, this is the Whole.
Across the brush fence were other brush houses, and the smoke came from them too, and the sound of breakfast, but those were other songs, their pigs were other pigs, their wives were not Juana. Kino was young and strong and his black hair hung over his brown forehead. His eyes were warm and fierce and bright and his mustache was thin and coarse. He lowered his blanket from his nose now, for the dark poisonous air was gone and the yellow sunlight fell on the house.
Near the brush fence two roosters bowed and feinted at each other with squared wings and neck feathers ruffed out. It would be a clumsy fight. They were not game chickens. Kino watched them for a moment, and then his eyes went up to a flight of wild doves twinkling inland to the hills. The world was awake now, and Kino arose and went into his brush house. As he came through the door Juana stood up from the glowing fire pit. She put Coyotito back in his hanging box and then she combed her black hair and braided it in two braids and tied the ends with thin green ribbon.
Kino squatted by the fire pit and rolled a hot corncake and dipped it in sauce and ate it. And he drank a little pulque and that was breakfast. That was the only breakfast he had ever known outside of feast days and one incredible fiesta on cookies that had nearly killed him.
When Kino had finished, Juana came back to the fire and ate her breakfast. They had spoken once, but there is not need for speech if it is only a habit anyway. Kino sighed with satisfaction- and that was conversation. The sun was warming the brush house, breaking through its crevices in long streaks.
And one of the streaks fell on the hanging box where Coyotito lay, and on the ropes that held it. It was a tiny movement that drew their eyes to the hanging box. Kino and Juana froze in their positions. Down the rope that hung the baby's box from the roof support a scorpion moved slowly. His stinging tail was straight out behind him, but he could whip it up in a flash of time.
Kino's breath whistled in his nostrils and he opened his mouth to stop it. And then the startled look was gone from him and the rigidity from his body. In his mind a new song had come, the Song of Evil, the music of the enemy, of any foe of the family, a savage, secret, dangerous melody, and underneath, the Song of the Family cried plaintively.
The scorpion moved delicately down the rope toward the box. Under her breath Juana repeated an ancient magic to guard against such evil, and on top of that she muttered a Hail Mary between clenched teeth. But Kino was in motion.
His body glided quietly across the room, noiselessly and smoothly. His hands were in front of him, palms down, and his eyes were on the scorpion. Beneath it in the hanging box Coyotito laughed and reached up his hand toward it.
It sensed danger when Kino was almost within reach of it. It stopped, and its tail rose up over its back in little jerks and the curved thorn on the tail's end glistened. Kino stood perfectly still. He could hear Juana whispering the old magic again, and he could hear the evil music of the enemy. He could not move until the scorpion moved, and it felt for the source of the death that was coming to it.
Kino's hand went forward very slowly, very smoothly.
The thorned tail jerked upright. And at that moment the laughing Coyotito shook the rope and the scorpion fell.
Kino's hand leaped to catch it, but it fell past his fingers, fell on the baby's shoulder, landed and struck. Then, snarling, Kino had it, had it in his fingers, rubbing it to a paste in his hands.
He threw it down and beat it into the earth floor with his fist, and Coyotito screamed with pain in his box. But Kino beat and stamped the enemy until it was only a fragment and a moist place in the dirt. His teeth were bared and fury flared in his eyes and the Song of the Enemy roared in his ears. But Juana had the baby in her arms now. She found the puncture with redness starting from it already. She put her lips down over the puncture and sucked hard and spat and sucked again while Coyotito screamed.
Kino hovered; he was helpless, he was in the way. The screams of the baby brought the neighbors.
Out of their brush houses they poured- Kino's brother Juan Tomas and his fat wife Apolonia and their four children crowded in the door and blocked the entrance, while behind them others tried to look in, and one small boy crawled among legs to have a look.
And those in front passed the word back to those behind- "Scorpion. The baby has been stung. The little hole was slightly enlarged and its edges whitened from the sucking, but the red swelling extended farther around it in a hard lymphatic mound. And all of these people knew about the scorpion. An adult might be very ill from the sting, but a baby could easily die from the poison.
First, they knew, would come swelling and fever and tightened throat, and then cramps in the stomach, and then Coyotito might die if enough of the poison had gone in. But the stinging pain of the bite was going away. Coyotito's screams turned to moans. Kino had wondered often at the iron in his patient, fragile wife. She, who was obedient and respectful and cheerful and patient, she could arch her back in child pain with hardly a cry. She could stand fatigue and hunger almost better than Kino himself.
In the canoe she was like a strong man. And now she did a most surprising thing. And they repeated among themselves, "Juana wants the doctor. To get him would be a remarkable thing. The doctor never came to the cluster of brush houses. Why should he, when he had more than he could do to take care of the rich people who lived in the stone and plaster houses of the town.
She looked up at him, her eyes as cold as the eyes of a lioness. This was Juana's first baby- this was nearly everything there was in Juana's world. And Kino saw her determination and the music of the family sounded in his head with a steely tone. The people in the door pushed against those behind to let her through. Kino followed her. They went out of the gate to the rutted path and the neighbors followed them.
The thing had become a neighborhood affair. They made a quick soft- footed procession into the center of the town, first Juana and Kino, and behind them Juan Tomas and Apolonia, her big stomach jiggling with the strenuous pace, then all the neighbors with the children trotting on the flanks. And the yellow sun threw their black shadows ahead of them so that they walked on their own shadows.
They came to the place where the brush houses stopped and the city of stone and plaster began, the city of harsh outer walls and inner cool gardens where a little water played and the bougainvillaea crusted the walls with purple and brick-red and white. They heard from the secret gardens the singing of caged birds and heard the splash of cooling water on hot flagstones.
The procession crossed the blinding plaza and passed in front of the church. It had grown now, and on the outskirts the hurrying newcomers were being softly informed how the baby had been stung by a scorpion, how the father and mother were taking it to the doctor. And the newcomers, particularly the beggars from the front of the church who were great experts in financial analysis, looked quickly at Juana's old blue skirt, saw the tears in her shawl, appraised the green ribbon on her braids, read the age of Kino's blanket and the thousand washings of his clothes, and set them down as poverty people and went along to see what kind of drama might develop.
The four beggars in front of the church knew everything in the town. They were students of the expressions of young women as they went in to confession, and they saw them as they came out and read the nature of the sin. They knew every little scandal and some very big crimes. They slept at their posts in the shadow of the church so that no one crept in for consolation without their knowledge.
And they knew the doctor. They knew his ignorance, his cruelty, his avarice, his appetites, his sins. They knew his clumsy abortions and the little brown pennies he gave sparingly for alms. They had seen his corpses go into the church.