This book held an intense personal significance for me. So much so that at times, I would close the book and simply gaze at the wall, lost in thought.

The plot revolves around the struggles of a woman named Carol against the strange omniscience and rigidity of a small Midwestern town. She is a city girl who marries a country doctor and optimistically embarks on a new life on the prairie around World War I. However, upon settling in, she realizes that her ideas for "improving" the town through the introduction of high culture, town planning, and her own sophisticated conduct have no hope of success. She is shocked to discover that the citizens of Gopher Prairie not only resist her improving influence but are actually content to wallow in their rusticity. And thus begins her decline.

From a 21st-century perspective, her ideas and ambitions may seem silly and condescending. But there is so much of Carol that reminds me of myself as a teenager, which almost makes me uncomfortable. I spent a significant portion of my adolescence planning my escape from my own version of Gopher Prairie. Europe and the East Coast were my Promised Lands, just as they were for Carol. I felt that I had been born in the Midwest by some cruel twist of fate.

However, Carol and I differ at one crucial point. I have the isolated fields and towns of the Midwest in my blood, while Carol does not. Because of this, throughout the book, I found myself sympathizing with her and also feeling indignant that she could never see the good in anything around her. I naturally excuse my own feelings about the desperation of living in such a place, but it doesn't seem fair to hear them from an outsider.

I condemned Carol throughout the second half of the novel, including her moping and rather pathetic attempt at a love affair, as well as her dull try at a life of emancipation in DC. Surely, at some point, she would grow up and realize that a person can have ideals, practice them, and still not make herself and everyone around her miserable. And she does come around at the end, but not in a very satisfying way. I felt that her return at the end of the book was more an act of settling than of finding peace with the place.

It was only after I had finished the book and had time to properly digest the story that I began to feel rather sorry for being so harsh. I have come to appreciate my hometown through the benefit of time and distance and look forward to moving back someday. But poor Carol had none of my coping mechanisms. There was no Goodreads, BBC World News, Football365, Masterpiece Classics on PBS, interlibrary loan, free nights and weekends cell phone plans, a profession, email, Barnes&Noble.com, quick travel, or - most importantly - an income and checking account. In Carol's time and place, I might have gone crazy too. The Midwest now has the appeal of geographic isolation without the horror of isolation from thought and influence from the outside world.

I'm giving this book five stars because it made me think deeply about my own relationship with my hometown and the struggles of those who try to bring change to a small, closed community.

This book was extremely tedious.

From the very beginning, it seemed to drag on and on without any real excitement or engaging plot.

The characters were not developed well, and their actions and dialogues felt rather dull and uninteresting.

The writing style was also quite dry, making it a struggle to get through each page.

However, despite all these drawbacks, I am proud of myself for finishing it.

It took a lot of determination and perseverance on my part to push through the boredom and see it to the end.

Finishing this book has taught me that I can overcome challenges and complete tasks that may seem unappealing at first.

It has also given me a sense of accomplishment and has boosted my confidence.

Although I may not have enjoyed the book itself, the experience of reading it and finishing it has been valuable to me.

I look forward to applying this newfound determination and perseverance to other areas of my life.

First of all, the name of the book is good. The first example of the fatigue of a city with a simple structure is that very street - what is it called in Bengali? Market Road?

Secondly, the book is not very good. Although Lewis's intense sense of taste emerges here and there, he tries to cover it up overall because he is writing a serious book. Again, when he says serious, he is writing a serious book that will talk about the contemporary issues of his time, so there is not much room for many jokes there.

The reason why the book is becoming a testimony of time, but as a novel, it does not stand out as something very good. There was enough opportunity. Evelyn Waugh wrote 'Brideshead Revisited' by amassing this kind of wealth of taste, and Mr. Faulkner had the courage to write novel after novel with this kind of perspective. But this book by Lewis does not quite fit in. There are some good parts that are flooded here and there, the rest is how to tie it all together in one tune, some characters are deflated in some places, some places are extremely painful, and the whole novel has to be carried forward tied up in one cart like the last sh-page.

The good thing is that his writing is fluent, and reading those twenty-one pages does not even cause nausea, only a little boredom. The problem is that you may give up following the affairs of the characters at one point and think, let it go to hell.

He has mastered the time very well, and his writing hand is also good, but this book, no. It is better to read it if you don't have a headache, and it is okay if you don't read it. It was lying in the dust for a long time waiting for me to read it.

Compared to "Winesburg Ohio" which serves as a remarkable study in early 20th Century small town American life, this particular work, in my opinion, appears to be a rather poor imitation of the aforementioned masterpiece.

The main character is unsympathetic and snobbish, looking down on the local rough and ready "barbarians" while attempting to be witty and shocking within her social circle. This portrayal is not an appealing sight for me as a reader.

I do understand what Lewis was striving to convey, yet the novel lacks the multiplicity of viewpoints that made "Winesburg Ohio" so rich and engaging. As a result, it fails to capture the true community feel of small town life.

In conclusion, this novel is not a success. It simply does not measure up to the high standards set by "Winesburg Ohio" and falls short in many aspects, leaving the reader with a sense of disappointment.

I read this book in high school. It was a summer reading book, and I vividly remember detesting it.

In fact, I took great pleasure in many of the books on my summer reading list. Titles like Watership Down, The Once and Future King, and The Jungle were among my favorites. However, this particular book completely soured my experience.

Looking back now, I'm fairly certain that I overlooked something during my initial reading. Perhaps there was a joke that everyone else understood but eluded me. I have a sneaking suspicion that I may need to revisit this book one day. I'm curious to see how my more literate, well-read, and perhaps even a bit snobbish self will rate it.

It's interesting how our perspectives can change over time. Maybe with a fresh pair of eyes and a more developed understanding, I'll discover the hidden gems within this book that I missed all those years ago. Only time will tell.

On page 25, I was truly impressed and thought - this guy is brilliant.

As I delved further, by page 50, I was convinced that this guy is exhaustively brilliant.

However, by page 100, I found myself feeling exhausted.

And on page 150, I had the thought - I’ll never get out of this novel alive.

By page 200, I was amazed and thought - so who knew there could be so much DETAIL about every last possible aspect of one teensy Minnesotan town lodged inside the Tardis-like head of Sinclair Lewis?

Then, on page 213, my eye fell upon this powerful passage:

It’s the worst defeat of all. I’m beaten. By Main Street. I must go on. But I can’t!

Surprisingly Godotesque, and I imagine many readers of this large opus nodding their heads and smiling grimly.

On page 350, I thought - you know, I think the plot is picking up a little bit. If I’m reading this right, two things have actually happened in the last 70 pages.

THE DIRENESS OF SMALL TOWNS

Well, that’s what this novel is ALL about.

“Tell you, Carrie : there’s just three classes of people : folks that haven’t got any ideas at all; the cranks that kick about everything; and Regular Guys, the fellows with sticktuitiveness that boost and get the world’s work done.”

It (what's so bad about a small town) is a sluggishness of speech and manners, a rigid ruling of the spirit by the desire to appear respectable. It is contentment…the contentment of the quiet dead, who are scornful of the living of the restless walking. It is the prohibition of happiness. It is negation canonised as the one positive virtue. It is slavery self-taught and self-defended. It is dullness made God.

There’s a point on page 249 where Sinclair is ONCE again recounting how much his heroine hates Gopher Prairie, and kind of breaks down into a general jeremiad without even trying to put his thoughts into her mind. He just starts foaming and ranting.

The universal similarity – that is the physical expression of the philosophy of dull safety. Nine-tenths of American small towns are so alike that it is the completest boredom to wander from one to the other. Always there is the same lumber yard, the same railroad station, the same Ford garage, the same creamery, the same…. (etc etc for a long paragraph).

THE VICIOUS GOSSIP OF SMALL TOWNS

“Have you heard the scandal about this Miss Mullins and Cy Bogart?”
“I’m sure it is a lie.”
“Oh, it probably is.” Maud’s manner indicated that the falsity of the story was an insignificant flaw in its general delightfulness.

DIALECT : NOT A GOOD IDEA

“Vell, so you come to town,”
“Ya. Ay get a yob.\\"
”Vell…you got a fella now?”
“Ya, Yim Yacobsen.”
“Vell. I’m glat to see you. How much you vant a veek?”
“Sex dollar.”
“There ain’t nobody pay dat. Vait! Dr Kennicott. I t’ink he marry a girl from de Cities. Maybe she pay dat. Vell, You go take a valk.”

Authors, don’t do this. You are giving the impression that anyone who speaks with an accent is tuppence short of a shilling.

AMY ADAMS FOR CAROL, I’D SAY

This is a novel about a perky and by all accounts fairly drop dead young woman named Carol who marries a guy who is a country doctor and is so eyejabbingly tedious that I was surprised she was still alive at the end of one year of marriage when there was in the small town of Gopher Prairie a full supply of sharp agricultural implements, guns with live ammo, and even a couple of four storey buildings which would surely bust your neck should you spring from their tops.

She sashays into the her hubby's home town with grand but vague ideas of \\"improving\\" it. Well, you know that expression \\"don't let the bastards grind you down? Turns out the bastards live in Gopher Springs. Whole town is full of them.

This is a novel where the idea is like James Joyce said with Ulysses, that if Dublin burned to the ground they could rebuild it by consulting his book. In this case it’s all small towns in the north of the USA and all the interiors of every building - every square inch of Minnesota is gone over with utter thoroughness.

I LIKE A GOOD LIST

Sinclair Lewis is very big on lists.

Fur coats, fur caps, fur mittens, overshoes buckling almost to the laces, grey knitted scarves ten feet long, thick woollen socks, canvas jackets lineed with yellow wool like the plumage of ducklings, moccasins, red flannel wristlets for the blazing chapped wrists of boys…

The Commercial Club banquet and the Minniemashie House, an occasion for menus printed in gold (but injudiciously proof-read) for free cigars, soft damp slabs of Lake Superior whitefish served as fillet of sole, drenched cigar-ashes gradually filling the saucers of coffe cups, and oratorical references to Pep, Punch, Go, Vigour, Enterprise, Red Blood, He-Men, Fair Women, God’s Country, James J Hill, the Blue Sky, the Green Fields, the Bountiful Harvest, Increasing Population, Fair Return on Investments, Alien Agitators who Threaten the Security of our Institutions, the Hearthstone the Foundation of the State, Senator Knute Nelson, One Hundered Per Cent Americanism, and Pointing with Pride.

When you follow a character into a room in Main Streetyou are lucky to escape without a complete inventory of furnishings and fixtures

The trouble is that often grinding down poor Carol becomes indistinguishable from grinding down the poor reader. Sinclair Lewis falls into the trap that John Lennon did in his primal scream phase, say, on Cold Turkey and Mother. In his case it was yelling and moaning about what psychic pain he was in. In this case it’s boring us half to death in protest about the psychological suffocation anyone with half a brain will suffer in these innumerable burgs. Cries of “All right already!” and “You’ve already said that twenty-five times Mr Lewis” may be heard escaping involuntarily from the reader’s pursing lips.

TWO MORE MOANERS

1.\\tSurely a direct descendant of Main Street is Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon, also located in Minnesota. Yes, GK paints his town with a wry avuncular affection, but in his first novel GK has his stand-in denounce Lake Wobegon remarkably bitterly in terms Sinclair Lewis would have thought he’s written (except that GK is funnier). These come in a passage called 95 Theses 95. Here’s three examples:

You have subjected me to endless boring talk about the weather, regularity, back problems, and whether something happened in 1938 or 1939, insisting that I sit quietly and listen to every word.
\\"How's it going with you?\\" you said. \\"Oh, about the same,\\" you replied. \\"Cold enough for you?\\" It was always cold, always about the same.

You have taught me to value a good night's sleep over all else including adventures of love and friendship, and even when the night is charged with magic, to be sure to get to bed. If God had not meant everyone to be in bed by ten-thirty, He would never have provided the ten o'clock newscast.

You have provided me with poor male role models, including the Sons of Knute, the Boosters Club and others whose petulance, inertia, and ineptitude are legendary. I was taught to respect them: men who clung to tiny grudges for decades and were devoted to vanity, horsefeathers, small potatoes--not travel but the rites of trunk-loading and map-reading and gas mileage; not faith but the Building Committee; not love but supper.

2.\\tBizarrely, I could not but think of Thomas Bernhardt, whose legendary hatred of his own country Austria is poured forth in novel after novel. Main Street is in the same ball park. Except there’s no love in Austria.

IMMERSIVE NOVELS

Are not read for the plot but for the forensic detail of lives lived. Because of that they run the risk of boring us rigid; they’re the slow heavy beasts, the dray horses of literature – The Old Wives’ Tale and A House for Mr Biswas; and now, Main Street. The whole thing is in the immense accretion of detail. They have to win you over. Main Street won me over. In the end I loved it. Whew. Ain’t going to read another Sinclair Lewis novel any time soon, but... yeah.

I have a complex web of feelings here.

On one hand, it is indeed a sharply incisive critique of those "small town" mindsets that are characterized by closed-mindedness, stagnation, and an overbearing sense of self-righteousness. Lewis is masterful in painting a vivid picture of both the setting and the characters. He manages to present both sides of the question quite creditably, especially through the decided flaws of his heroine.

However, in the final analysis, this is still, first and foremost, a critique of the small town rather than of the heroine who endeavors to reform it. As such, I simply cannot help but disagree with almost all of its social premise as it is presented through a heroine who is not so much obnoxious in her own equally self-righteous crusade (which, arguably, she evolves out of or into by the conclusion of the story), but rather in her absolute determination to wallow in misery by stubbornly refusing to grow into a state of contentment and acceptance.

As it stands, I still find the story engaging and thought-provoking today. But ultimately, in my view, its purpose is somewhat counter-productive.

In the last week, I’ve had the pleasure of listening to Kitty Hendrix’s narration of the 100-year-old novel Main Street by Sinclair Lewis. The writing is truly personal and engaging, and Ms. Hendrix’s narration complements it perfectly.

Ostensibly, Main Street is, in a sense, about every Main Street in America, seen through the eyes of one character, Carol Kendicott, in the fictional town of Gopher Prairie, Minnesota. As the story begins, Carol is a college graduate, soon to be a librarian. She has grand plans to transform a small town into a place worth living, according to her own definition. In due course, she meets Dr. Will Kendicott and moves to the town of 3,000 with high hopes of fulfilling her dreams.

Unfortunately, the Main Street of Gopher Prairie is not ready to be shaped by the young idealist. The heart of the story is Carol gradually coming to terms with who she is, who she wants to be, and where she fits in a very slowly evolving society.

Whenever I read or listen to a book, I make comparisons in my mind and wonder about the author’s purpose. In a way, Sinclair Lewis in this book is like an American Charles Dickens. Statements are made, sometimes explicitly and sometimes more subtly, about some of the injustices in our society (or in this case, the American small town society of the 1910s). But unlike Dickens, there isn’t a deep plot as such. Ultimately, this story is a snapshot of one woman’s life, as she becomes a wife, mother, community member, rebel, nursemaid, and more. Although Lewis vividly描绘s the picture of Gopher Prairie and the sometimes caricatured inhabitants, ultimately, I felt that this story is about one person – Carol, who is a stand-in for Sinclair Lewis himself. Main Street is inevitable (kind of like Thanos?). It will be what it will be. Society will continue much as it has.

But where does Carol fit? Where do I fit, and where do you fit? Again and again, I was struck by the conflict within Carol. My biggest takeaways are: 1. To truly know yourself, 2. To be true to yourself. Figure out what that means and be authentic to yourself and those around you, and 3. To accept others as they are. They have ambitions, doubts, things they’re passionate about, and things that will never interest them. But in this book, Carol’s assumptions about others and her belief that she can change them lead to unhappiness and dissatisfaction.

There were several times when listening to Main Street that I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. It’s a book that makes you think. It makes you think about how you might think you’re better than others and where you’re wrong. And even a century later, it’s incredibly relevant. Technology may have made it much easier to connect with anyone, anywhere, but ultimately, Main Street can still be seen in every small town or small community you’re a part of. I especially liked Carol’s realization that in the big city, she would still be interacting with a similar small community of people. We are who we are, and it has less to do with the setting we’re in and more to do with how comfortable we are in the shoes we’ve chosen to wear.

So, rating the book: Writing – 5 stars. Plot – 3 stars. If you’re looking for an engaging page-turner, mystery, or action, the plot isn’t what drives this book. It simply follows Carol and Main Street over several years. If you want a book to make you think, check out Main Street. Narration – 5 Stars – This is the first book I’ve listened to by Kitty Hendrix, and she did an excellent job. Sometimes I thought her male characters were a little caricatured, but that was as much due to the writing as her narration.

Overall – 4.5 stars.

Lewis' editor cut a whopping 10,000 words from "Main Street". Good Gawd, I truly liked the detail of "Main Street" but I'm not entirely sure if I could have endured reading through all that. The guy must have really gone through a ton of typewriter ribbons.

The exploration of the nuances of small town America in the book was simply great. By the time I finished reading, I felt as if I had to include the characters on my Christmas card list.

Not only is Lewis excellent at detailing, but he also provides a sharp observation of human traits. For instance, Carol and Dr. Will return from their honeymoon and Will's rather boastful best friend picks them up at the train station. He asks them how their trip was and after just one sentence of the reply, he launches into telling about some trip he had 10 years ago, completely overshadowing the moment the couple might have received any attention.

How accurate this is! I've witnessed this happen and have even had it happen to me on numerous occasions.

A few years after reading "Main Street", we were in Minneapolis, so we seized the opportunity to visit the original Main Street in Saulk Centre. It's still a small, unassuming town and is worthy of a leisurely stroll. There is a small museum there that houses his Nobel prize. It's also in the "Lake Wobegon" territory if you want to do the whole tour.

Gopher Prairie (1920) remains largely unchanged. However, a disturbing new element has emerged. Now, the kids in this small town have access to guns and drugs. This addition significantly alters the once-idyllic image of the community. Sinclair Lewis's novel, which was already a great satiric work, now takes on an even more poignant and relevant dimension. The juxtaposition of the town's unchanged exterior with the dangerous and corrupting influence of guns and drugs among the youth creates a powerful contrast. It forces readers to confront the harsh reality that even in seemingly peaceful and unchanging places, there can be hidden problems festering beneath the surface.

This updated version of Gopher Prairie serves as a reminder that society is constantly evolving, and we must remain vigilant to the new challenges and threats that arise. Lewis's satiric vision continues to resonate, offering valuable insights into the human condition and the state of our modern world.

Main Street is not just a novel; it serves as a powerful social commentary. Although it may not be considered great art in the traditional sense, it is highly thought-provoking and offers a revealing historical perspective.

It made me realize, with a tinge of sadness, the persistence of the stagnation of the human spirit that plagues a significant portion of America.

Lewis presents his satiric account of life in Gopher Prairie, Minnesota, in a straightforward manner. Here, a city girl who marries a country doctor constantly faces obstacles in her attempts to rise above the dreary existence of the townspeople.

The passages vividly describe the town's unimaginatively standardized background, sluggish speech and manners, and the rigid control of the spirit by the desire to appear respectable. It is a place of contentment, but of the quiet dead who scorn the living for their relentless progress.

What is truly striking and disturbing is how easily we can recognize the pettiness in Main Street even 100 years later. The mindset of the inhabitants of Gopher Prairie a century ago still persists in countless towns today, where 19th-century concepts of God and country hold sway and the disdain for "highbrow" ideas still lingers.

The Tea Party provides ample evidence that the rural-urban divide is stronger than ever.

At the end, Carrie, the feisty heroine who ultimately succumbs to the banal life, dreams of her new daughter living in a new enlightened world by the year 2000, perhaps even flying to Mars. While technology has advanced dramatically, as she predicted, people have not changed nearly as much.

Lewis would likely be very disappointed if he could witness how little we have evolved.

Wow, I am truly amazed by her similarities to me. I am both impressed by the ability to capture my essence in text and a bit embarrassed that the literary character who represents me the most has so many flaws.

I long to be like Anne Elliot, Elizabeth, Emma, Menolly, Hermione, or Katniss (well, maybe not Katniss). These are heroines who are strong and seemingly without major flaws. Instead, I am Carol Kennicott, the most frustrating main character I have ever come across... and she is exactly like me!

Carol is all over the place. In college, she has a desire to be a leader of change, but she's not sure what kind of change. She vacillates between wanting to move to a small town and transform it or become an influential librarian.

Her flaw is her lack of persistence. She doesn't stick to a single idea or conviction. Instead, she flits from one great thing to another, giving up at the first sign of an obstacle. (Yep, that's me!)

At first, I supported her. She didn't know what she wanted, but at least she was trying something. She wanted to shake up the town and make it something different, but the townsfolk were content. She was frustrated that they couldn't see how unhappy they should be. She had all these grand plans to rebuild the city hall, the tea rooms, the school building, plant gardens, have a literary society, have a husband who enjoyed reading poetry at night, go sledding in winter, and generally transform the town according to her vision. But she never did all of this at once. She flitted from one thing to another, giving up as soon as she faced an obstacle or got bored and another scheme seemed more promising.

By the middle of the book, I was sick of her. I had given up. When would she stick with something? When would she realize how rude she was being by trying to force the townsfolk to change to suit her? So what if they didn't like going sledding in winter?

The book is full of interesting ideas and juxtapositions. We see things through Carol's eyes at first, and we initially agree with her. But then, slowly and subtly, we are led to consider the rest of the town, and it becomes clear that Carol is rather egotistical in her desire for change that suits only herself.

Occasionally, she tries to rally support for her ideas, but she's always frustrated when the people she turns to have their own ideas. She wants 100% support from the people and is not willing to compromise or give up even a little bit of her idea. Now, this might be commendable if she only ever stuck with one idea. But when she's trying to build a new city hall and gets frustrated because someone else wants to do it differently, she gives up the whole scheme and moves on to something else... sometimes even doubling back and taking up the same scheme that was important to the other person (the one that made her give up in the first place). She's exhausting. I'm exhausted by her. Are people this exhausted by me?

I'm also enjoying the development of her relationship with her husband. It's a difficult journey. She settled for a nice man, but fairly quickly became disappointed that he wasn't everything she dreamed of. He wasn't literary, didn't want to change the town, wasn't revolutionary, and talked about marriage practicalities in a way that she found confronting. She saw all his faults and sometimes thought about leaving him. But as she goes on, she starts to see that many of his so-called faults aren't really faults at all. He's a good man with many good qualities that she could grow to love if she would only let herself.

At the midpoint, the author has made his point, and he even fast-forwards a few years. We get the idea that it's all more of the same, so he quickly skips us through it.

The book is full of wonderful moments where the reader can pause and reflect on what has been written and how it relates to modern society. It's very true that there's nothing new under the sun, and this book is full of concerns that we're still dealing with today (and we still think we're the first generation to encounter them).

I particularly love one moment when she's talking to her husband about how their son should be raised. He's advocating for a more traditional discipline approach, while she wants to treat the boy like a person. Nearly one hundred years later, I faced the same question from my family about how I was raising my children, and here I thought it was only our generation who had considered raising a child as a person.