Facebook memes like this reintroduced Sinclair Lewis to many Americans. |
Note—When a version of this was posted two years ago
American novelist Sinclair Lewis was at the nadir of his literary
reputation. Events have changed
that. Quotes from his prophetic but long
overlooked novel It Can’t Happen Here began appearing as Facebook memes.
Like George Orwell’s 1984,
the curious have been seeking out the book and discovering the author. But while Orwell’s tale is chillingly
effective, Lewis deeply understood things about the American character. He would not be at all surprised by the rise
of Donald Trump. Hell, he could have
written Trump and very nearly did. Lewis
deserves this moment. And I urge you to
look him up and read him!
It’s
a big day for literary birthdays including Charles
Dickens in 1812 and Laura Ingles Wilder
in 1867. I bet you’ve read their
books. I bet you haven’t read one by another
birthday boy, Sinclair Lewis. He was supposed
to be The Great American Novelist
of the 20th Century.
Lewis
was born and raised in Sauk Centre,
Minnesota on February 7, 1885 to an autocratic
physician father who made his
sensitive third son’s life miserable. His mother died when he was when he was only
six. His father remarried, but his new
wife was not a wicked stepmother—she gave the boy attention and affection that he craved
and encouraged his avid and wide ranging reading.
A gangling, red head with a bad case
of acne he was mocked at school. He fell in love with all of the pretty girls but was too awkward to do anything about it or rudely rebuffed. To escape
the torment and in hopes of finding
like-minded bookish companions Lewis enrolled at Oberlin Academy, the prep
school of the liberal Ohio college. He was already writing—Walter Scott inspired
tales of knights and daring do and romantic poetry. He adopted high flown verbiage in his speech in an attempt to seem less provincial. All of this elicited the same ridicule as he faced back home.
Despite
finding solace in contributing to
the Yale
Literary Magazine when he entered that university, he made few
friends and remained a social
outcast. Several times he abandoned his studies in search of adventure or at least something better.
He sailed to England on a cattle boat, went to Panama to work as a common laborer on the Canal, he lived and worked as a janitor at Upton Sinclair’s socialist commune Helican Hall, and spent time in Greenwich Village trying to make a living
as a free-lance writer. It was there he joined the Socialist Party and
met Jack London, to whom he would later
sell ideas for short stories.
But
he always returned to Yale and slowly earned his bachelor’s degree and then completed his masters in 1908.
After
graduation Lewis became a sort of literary vagabond bouncing around to
jobs as editing small magazines and work for publishing houses in Iowa, San Francisco, and Washington
D.C. He spent some time at a writer’s colony at Carmel-by-the-Sea in California. Then it was back
to New York and the Greenwich Village scene where he ran in circles that included radical
journalist and founding member
of the Provincetown Players Jack
Reed. All the while he was turning
out facile short stories for popular magazines in a variety of genres for fast cash
while working on more serious projects. More importantly, he was absorbing the throbbing life of a rapidly changing America.
Lewis
was nothing if not prolific. In 1912 he published his first novel a quickie in
the Tom Swift style, Hike
and the Aeroplane published under the nom de plume Tom Graham. In 1914 he published his first serious novel
under his own name. Our Mr. Wrenn: The Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man, a rambling, whimsical tale of a meek novelty company salesman who throws over his job when he receives a small inheritance and goes traveling. It received mostly positive reviews but was not
commercially successful.
Sinclair Lewis as his career started to take off. |
The
same year he married a figure in the New York literary scene
in which he was now traveling, Grace
Livingston Hegger, an editor at Vogue. The couple had a son who they named Wells
in honor of the British writer and
Socialist H. G. Wells. He was working as an editor and advertising
manager at the publisher George H.
Doran Company. On the side he
started a syndicated book review page for
smaller newspapers around the
country that met with some success. As a bonus he found that the writers he mentioned and reviewed favorably were inclined to return the favor and review
his books.
After
1916 Lewis emulated the model of his character Mr. Wrenn and quit his regular
employment to travel with his wife and dedicate himself to his writing. In addition to continuing to supply short
stories to magazine, he alternated serious novels like The Trail of the Hawk: A Comedy
of the Seriousness of Life and The Job and pot boilers expanded from romance
serials he had previously published
in magazines.
Lewis
and his family settled in Washington
where he began work on the novel that would finally win him the wide-spread approval and fame he had so long chased. Main Street was published in October
of 1920. The fictional Minnesota town of
Gopher Prairie was drawn from his home town of Sauk Centre. The protagonist, Carol Milford, was a carefree,
spirited, and cultured young woman
from the relatively sophisticated city
of St. Paul who marries a small town doctor. She was drawn from Lewis’s beloved step
mother but was also a female version of
himself, down to a face scared by acne.
The
realistic but unflattering depiction
of small town American life not as a
Tarkingtoneque rustic utopia, but as
a stultifying, small minded place demanding soul crush conformity turned out to be
a huge success beyond its author’s wildest expectations. It sold
an astonishing 250,000 copies in the first six month alone and royalties made Lewis rich, eventually mounting to over $3
million dollars.
Main Street was selected for
the 1921Pulitzer Prize for Fiction but
the Pulitzer Foundation’s horrified Board of Trustees overturned the jury selection and gave the award
instead to Edith Wharton for The
Age of Innocents. Lewis was so enraged that when he was awarded the
prize in 1925 for Arrowsmith he curtly
refused to receive it.
Babbit, published in 1922, was a comically sour portrait of a crass businessman and civic
boosterism that added a new word to
the English Language. The setting of
Zenith was a larger, more bustling version of Sauk Centre/Gopher Prairie and
would continue to be used by Lewis in future work. Arrowsmith was about the corruption of an idealistic doctor.
Success and both Lewis’s
compulsive dedication to his writing
and increasingly heavy drinking led
to the break-up of his marriage in
1925. Three years later he married noted
political journalist Dorothy
Thompson. The couple had one son, Michael and they bought a summer home in Vermont to escape the
oppressive heat of Washington in August.
The marriage was a notoriously stormy one fueled by both
of their alcoholism. The couple separated in 1936 and their divorce
was final in 1942.
Lewis’s
success continued in 1927 with Elmer Gantry exposed charlatan revivalism and was drawn from the career of evangelist Aimee Simple McPherson. Although successful, the book aroused a
firestorm of criticism and was banned and
burned in several cities. Dodsworth in 1929 cast a harsh light on the highest levels of
American society and documented the personal
liberation of a decent man dragged on a European grand tour by his shallow
wife.
In
1930 he was awarded the Noble Prize for
Literature, the first American so
honored. His lasting fame seemed assured.
In his acceptance speech in Oslo Lewis praised the work of Ernest Hemmingway and Willa Cather but castigated most American writers for being afraid to paint their country realistically and in lights that were less than flattering
and was even harsher on critics and the academics who he described as liking “their literature clear and
cold and pure and very dead.”
The
speech turned that literary and academic
establish almost universally against him.
The days of glowing reviews were
over. Very suddenly Lewis was out of fashion and a literary pariah. His reputation
has never recovered and his books seldom
make required reading lists for American
Lit undergraduates. Generations have grown up only dimly aware of who he was.
Of
course this was not all immediately
apparent to him. For one thing, his
books were successfully being made into
popular movies. In 1931 Samuel Goldwin made a film version of Arrowsmith directed by John
Ford and starring Ronald Coleman and
Helen Hays which was nominated for four Academy Awards. It took much
longer—long after Lewis’s death—for the more controversial Elmer Gantry to make it to the big
screen. In 1960 it was finally made
starring Burt Lancaster, Jean Simmons,
Arthur Kennedy, and Shirley Jones. Lancaster and Jones took home Oscars for their work and the film was
also nominated for Best Picture.
Lewis
continued to regularly churn out novels which met with poor critical receptions
and sagging sales. He completed 11 more
novels and lived to see 10 of them published.
His ongoing battle with the bottle
eventually began to have an effect on the quality of his work. In 1937 after a particularly epic binge he checked
himself into the Austen Riggs Center,
a psychiatric hospital in Stockbridge. His doctors told him bluntly that he would die
if he did not stop drinking. Lewis
checked himself out of the hospital after ten days and resumed his old habits.
It Can’t Happen Here, a dystopian
tale of the rise of fascism in
America “wrapped in the American Flag
and holding the Cross” is considered his last great work. It remains prescient and perhaps of greater relevance than ever to American
readers—if they were aware of it and could find it. It deserves a place right alongside 1984 and
Brave
New World.
In
the early 1940’s mutual anti-fascism and
admiration for each other’s work led
to Lewis teaming with Rabbi and author Lewis Browne for a series of
successful lecture tours. In 1944 Lewis was devastated by the news
that his oldest son Wells was killed in
action in an attempt to rescue and relieve the Lost Battalion in the ForĂȘt
de Champ, France.
Alcohol and career disappointments were taking a toll on Lewis by 1947 when he was photographed on Main Street in his home town of Sauk Center, Minnesota. |
In
1945 he had a last popular success
with Cass
Timberlane about a mature
ex-Congressman and Judge, who falls in love with a much younger woman from the wrong side of the tracks. It was made into a weepy melodrama by MGM starring Spencer Tracy and Lana Turner.
Lewis had in him one more important, if flawed book. Kingsblood
Royal told about an accomplished Black
doctor and what happened to him and his family when he tried to move into an upscale White neighborhood in a supposedly liberal Minnesota city.
Not widely read at the time, it is now considered an important early literary contribution
to the Civil Rights Movement.
With
his health deteriorating seriously and alcohol fueling and increasingly nasty temper, Lewis exiled himself to Europe for his final years, loosely chronicling,
his experiences in the novel he was working on.
He died in Rome on January
10, 1951 of the acute effects of
alcoholism. His remains were taken
home to Sauk Centre to be buried near his mother, father, and beloved step
mother.
That
last novel, So Wide World was published
posthumously.
Despite
being deeply unfashionable Lewis’s fine books remain readable and are a great lens through which to discover
America, warts and all.
https://english.illinoisstate.edu/sinclairlewis/sinclair_lewis/faq/faq-homepage.shtml
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