Set during the summer of 1960, The Winter of Our Discontent is a more modern tale compared to other works I’ve read from Steinbeck. Perhaps this shift in time period coloured my experience as I struggled to fully connect with the story. There’s nothing inherently wrong with the book. The plot and characters are compelling and genuinely interesting, but it didn’t resonate with me as much as his earlier works. While I appreciated its themes and narrative depth, it lacked the same sense of enjoyment I’ve come to associate with Steinbeck’s writing.
