More than 70 years after John Steinbeck's classic novel and Elia Kazan's film adaptation premiered, "East of Eden" once again returns to the screen as a seven-episode miniseries created by Zoe Kazan, granddaughter of director Elia Kazan.

While the 1955 film narrowly focused on Cal Trask's (James Dean) tragic longing for paternal affection, the new adaptation restores the epic scope of the original work and boldly shifts its perspective. The work no longer centers on Cal but on Cathy/Kate, who was once seen as the embodiment of evil. Through the lens of Zoe Kazan and Florence Pugh's performance, Cathy emerges as both a "monster" and a victim, sowing tragedy yet also fighting to break stereotypes. From there, the series re-poses the age-old question: Are humans born good or evil, or is the core truth who we choose to become?

Two translations of John Steinbeck's "East of Eden". Photo: Le Hong Lam.

Published in 1952, John Steinbeck's massive novel follows two families in the Salinas Valley, California, United States, over half a century, from the American Civil War to World War I. The work uses the biblical story of Cain and Abel to examine generational tragedy. Adam Trask confronts his older brother Charles, then Adam's two twin sons—the gentle Aron and the brooding Cal—fall into a similar fated pattern.

According to Genesis 4:1-16, Cain killed his younger brother Abel out of jealousy after God accepted Abel's offering but rejected Cain's. Yet for Steinbeck, that story is not only about the first murder. It is an archetypal model of sin, jealousy, guilt, and choice passed down through generations. Steinbeck identifies a paradox here: If sin is ingrained in bloodlines as an inevitable legacy, can humans escape the demon within themselves?

In the introduction to the 1988 translation, Professor Hoang Nhu Mai once remarked: "Life is life; it does not bend to our good intentions, so do not idealize... If we look at people realistically, without prejudice, we can see that they all have the ability to control their negative aspects." The novel's answer lies in one Hebrew word—appearing on the final page of the novel and chosen as the title for the miniseries' last episode: timshel, meaning "thou mayest."

Lee, the Trask family's wise Chinese-American housekeeper, spent years studying the Bible to decipher this word. Timshel does not promise that humans will certainly conquer sin, nor is it an imposed command. Good and evil are not immutable marks; they are continuous choices. Self-determination is both a grace and the greatest burden: no one can forever use nature or circumstances as a shield to deny personal responsibility.

Steinbeck could create a cold Cathy Ames, seemingly lacking any instinct to hesitate before evil, but he does not consider inherent tendencies a justification. For if fate were predetermined, timshel would be meaningless.

In 1955, Elia Kazan condensed the epic into a psychologically powerful family melodrama. Cal Trask (James Dean) carries a deep emotional wound upon learning that his mother, whom he thought dead, runs a brothel. He believes the source of his depravity stems from his mother, and that is why his father does not love him as he loves his brother Aron.

James Dean transformed Cal into an enduring symbol of wounded youth, helplessness, and a longing for recognition. Cal's tragedy lies in a vicious cycle: guilt drives misbehavior, and the consequences deepen that guilt. Despite leading to a series of painful events, the film's final segment reveals redemption. The film received four Oscar nominations, earning Jo Van Fleet (as Kate) the award for Best Supporting Actress and James Dean a nomination for Best Actor. However, the character of Kate was almost marginalized in that story.

70 years later, Zoe Kazan, along with directors Garth Davis and Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre, chose to retell the story from Cathy's perspective. The chronicle's scale is restored, with the housekeeper Lee (Hoon Lee) becoming the anchor for the Trask family. As a person of color and an immigrant, Lee transcends his circumstances to raise Cal (Joseph Zada) and Aron into individuals who can master their choices. That also serves as a vibrant embodiment of the timshel spirit.

Florence Pugh becomes the soul of the series with a Cathy/Kate that sends shivers down the viewer's spine. "I believe there are monsters born of human parents in this world," the television version opens with that very sense of unease. But Zoe Kazan does not stop at the question of whether Cathy is a monster. She poses another question: If so, who created that monster?

Through a contemporary lens, Cathy is not merely an inborn devil. She rebels against 19th-century society, where women were confined by patriarchal moral frameworks. Cathy's cruel actions are linked to past traumas, especially an incident of abuse in childhood.

She shifts from the image of Satan to Eve, fallen by the forbidden fruit, then like Alice, she tumbles into a deep pit of instinct with no escape. In the ending, when Cathy confronts and embraces her five-year-old self, the television version creates one of the work's most meaningful segments. The scene does not aim to whitewash her crimes but serves as a quiet moment for someone who has crossed a dark line from which she can never return.

Perhaps that is why "East of Eden" still has the ability to return after more than 70 years. Steinbeck does not say that humans can conquer evil. He only leaves us one possibility: timshel—thou mayest!

Le Hong Lam