sequence. First, the earth sprouts its new shoots of green grass and then the hills--a few days later in narrative time--become green "with the beginning year." The narrator, inevitably subject to narrative time, can only represent the pure movement of nature and the seasons. At the same time, however, the careful parallelism of the clauses recalls the voice of biblical discourse, the mythic timeless voice of the novel. These two voices are in tension; the narrative must both move within time and remain timeless, and there is no way to reconcile these two narrative impulses. In effect, the narrator has moved past the time in which Rose of Sharon sits in the barn with her mysterious smile, but Steinbeck has clearly told his reader that the new earth and the new time will abide. Hence, the Rose of Sharon figure that will appear in the final chapter of the novel is not a sign of final human despair. By the same token, however, the mythic biblical voice cannot itself be a sign of ultimate regal authority. Thus the dialectical structure of The Grapes of Wrath, with its dialogic infrastructure and style (the various dialogic voices and syntax) effectively resists closure and requires that the reader approach the novel with the same ability to resist ideological closure, with no ultimate voice of authority, no transcendent teleology, no final scapegoat.