As someone who has an in-depth knowledge of small town rural life in the upper plains, this book should undoubtedly have been attractive to me. The aspects that Lewis repeatedly emphasizes - that these towns are filled with narrow-minded, self-important fools - are undeniably accurate. Perhaps it's because I grew up in such a town, rather than being a newcomer like the book's protagonist Carol, that I also have a certain reluctant respect and even love for these places.

Lewis is also critical of Carol, not just the fictional town of Gopher Prairie, Minnesota. In Lewis' portrayal, we see Carol as a vacillating and uncommitted would-be savior of Gopher Prairie. For someone who is supposed to be well-educated and artistic, she has trouble finding the beauty in the world around her. I don't particularly have an issue with any of this; many great books have unlikable main characters and settings. However, I do have a problem with the pace of Main Street. The story develops at an interminable speed, and the episodes have a repetitive nature that quickly becomes tiresome.

The exception to this is the episode involving the family of Miles. This was the one part of the book that truly touched me and where the humanity of a character was actually revealed.

I can understand that this novel was significant at the time of its publication, but I believe its cultural impact has diminished to a considerable extent. Modern telecommunications have largely made Carol's situation non-existent, and the lingering puritanism in our culture continues to fade. Lewis' writing is competent and sufficient, and this book can surely assist us in understanding some of the extreme isolation that small town residents must have felt in the first half of the 20th century. But it no longer speaks directly to us.

2.5 stars.

This is one of those internal struggle books, and it's okay. However, this particular one felt overly long.

Carol, the main character, makes what I would consider a bad decision. She marries a man and moves to a small town. Now, Carol is not your typical small town person. In early 1900s America, she has a passion for the arts and books. She's not overly religious and is a freethinker. These qualities are in stark contrast to what a small town represents.

There are indeed some good aspects to this book. But the continuous cycle of her being happy and then unhappy became rather tedious. It seemed to go on and on without much variation.

Towards the end, an unexpected event did occur, which was a bit of a relief. But it took a significant amount of time to reach that point. Overall, while there are some redeeming features, the book's length and the repetitive nature of Carol's emotions made it a bit of a slog to get through.

It’s work - but not my work. I could run an office or a library, or nurse and teach children. But solitary dish-washing isn’t enough to satisfy me - or many other women. We’re going to chuck it. We’re going to... come out and play with you men in offices and clubs and politics you’ve cleverly kept for yourselves!

This was written in 1920.

“I think it’s a greatness of life - a refusal to be content with even the healthiest mud.”

This is a work of early feminist literature, written by a man. It tells the story of an intelligent housewife’s bored discontent in her midwestern small town and the unfairness of provincial attitudes. It was written forty years before Betty Friedan wrote The Feminine Mystique. Main Street was written at the end of World War One, when women’s suffrage was just beginning. People were transitioning from the horse and buggy to the motor-car.

It is quite unfortunate that no one seems to read Sinclair Lewis anymore.

It’s a cheerful yet serious book, full of chirpy dialogue that makes a strong point about people’s self-perceptions. It’s full of golly-gee-whiz-aw-shucks language, written in a very natural, of-the-time way. When people actually said things like “swell” and referred to cars as “motors”.

Just for example, there are wonderful sentences like this one: “The mystical Om-Om-Om of the dynamos in the electric-light plant behind the mill was louder in the darkness.” A dynamo is a generator, and an electric-light plant was a power utility. (Why not ohm-ohm-ohm?)

This book offers a unique perspective on the social and cultural changes happening during that era. It shows how women were starting to question their traditional roles and seek more opportunities. The language and style of the book add to its charm, making it a fascinating read for those interested in history, feminism, and literature. Despite its significance, it seems to have been overlooked in recent times, which is a pity. Maybe it’s time for a new generation to discover the works of Sinclair Lewis and appreciate their value.

Sinclair Lewis's first acknowledged classic, Main Street, is a work that has endured the test of time. It stands as a timeless indictment of the prejudices and complacency that pervaded small-town America.

His protagonist, Carol Kennicott, is an educated and progressive-minded city girl. She marries a dull doctor and relocates to the tiny burg of Gopher Falls. However, Carol soon becomes disillusioned with her husband's tiresome friends and narrow-minded neighbors. Despite their outward charm, they are inwardly condemnatory, stomping upon even the mildest suggestions of individuality as amoral or subversive.

Carol forms fleeting friendships with Miles Bjornstam, a strapping farmer disdained for his radical politics, and Erik Valborg, a bookish young man ruthlessly gay-baited for his appearance and love of books. But neither friendship lasts, leaving Carol more unfulfilled than before.

Lewis's book is not an easy read. There are moments of sardonic humor, but most of the narrative showcases the slow and painful smothering of Carol's personality. She debates the merits of libraries, the suitability of Bernard Shaw for dramatic performance, and the role of women in society with "friends" who use gossip and sneering imprecation as weapons.

Some readers may grow frustrated with Carol's reluctance to rebel. Despite her outsider status, most of her transgressions are minor. But that is precisely the point. The conformist impulses of Main Street, along with the institutions of marriage and motherhood (even though Carol cherishes her children, her marriage is unhappy), destroy the desire to rebel. It is easier to go along than to get along, even if it costs one's soul.

Main Street concludes with an explosive denouement that finally gives Carol a chance to display her independence. However, she discovers that escaping Gopher Falls is not as easy as she had imagined. This is a devastating and deeply-felt indictment of conservatism in its most insidious manifestation – not the loudmouthed demagogues or reactionary politicians, but the simple, unmovable stodginess of everyday life.

I know that a significant number of people tend to complain that not a great deal occurs within the pages of this book. And truth be told, I myself am not the most patient of readers. However, I found myself breezing right through it. I absolutely adored the detailed commentary on those seemingly tiny and unimportant events. Moreover, the way the novel seamlessly shifted from the main character's point of view was truly captivating.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of sympathy towards Carol. Even though she comes across as a cold individual, she is by no means a bad or mean person. It's just that she struggles to truly connect with others on a deeper level. This is evident even in her relationship with her son, as she believes he thinks like his father.

From what I have managed to read about Sinclair Lewis, it appears that he too might have been a rather cold person. This adds an interesting layer to the understanding of the book and its characters.

It is truly intriguing to peruse the reviews of this book penned by other Goodreads members. I'm not suggesting that their comments are incorrect; I simply saw things from a different perspective. For instance, was Carol really a happy feminist before she got married? Is Dr. Kennicott truly the real hero? And comparing Main Street to a spinach salad - wait, what? These are all thought-provoking questions that arise from reading the diverse opinions.

Gopher Prairie is based on Sauk Centre, Minnesota. Judging from what I can gather by looking at the website, it seems to be a small town that is full of boosterism and exudes an old-fashioned charm. The high school sports teams there are even called the Mainstreeters. Hmmmm, this gives one a better sense of the setting and the community that the author has created.

Unhappy women often seek ways to safeguard their sensitivity. Some do so through cynical gossip, constantly complaining and spreading malicious rumors. Others may turn to whining, expressing their dissatisfaction in a tiresome and repetitive manner. There are also those who find solace in high-church and new-thought religions, believing that these spiritual paths will bring them the peace and fulfillment they crave. And then there are those who simply lose themselves in a fog of vagueness, unable to clearly define their emotions or take action to improve their situation.

Carol, however, had chosen not to hide behind any of these refuges from reality. Despite being tender and merry by nature, she had been made timorous by the small-mindedness and provincialism of Gopher Prairie.

Well, I must admit that I would probably not have fared much better in Gopher Prairie myself. I found Carol to be a bit lacking in depth and at times, her naivete could be quite irritating. But I have to give her credit for her restraint. In a town full of sanctimonious and judgmental people, she managed to avoid lashing out or causing any real harm.

The story did drag on a little at times, but overall, I still enjoyed it. It provided a fascinating glimpse into the lives and minds of the people in a small Midwestern town, and the challenges they faced in trying to find meaning and happiness in their lives.

Sinclair Lewis (1885 – 1951) was an American novelist, short-story writer, and playwright.

In 1930, he became the first author from the United States to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature. The award was given "for his vigorous and graphic art of description and his ability to create, with wit and humor, new types of characters."

His 1925 novel, Arrowsmith, also received the Pulitzer Prize, which Lewis declined.

Lewis was influenced by other contemporary American authors such as H.G. Wells, Edith Wharton, and Theodore Dreiser. He considered Dreiser "as a master without whom his own career would probably not have been possible."

Lewis was born on February 7, 1885, in the village of Sauk Centre, Minnesota. This village served as the basis for the fictionalized town of Gopher Prairie, the setting for Main Street.

Main Street satirizes small town life and is perhaps Lewis's most famous novel. It was at the top of the best-seller lists when it was published in 1920 and was the best-selling novel for the period 1900-1925.

The protagonist, Carol Kennicott, is a librarian from Saint Paul who marries Will Kennicott, a doctor from Gopher Prairie. Carol hopes to change the town for the better but is ultimately trapped and faces suspicion and hostility, especially from the women.

She finds some comfort with other outsiders, but they fail to meet her expectations.

The novel takes place during the 1910s, including the years before and during WWI. It criticizes various issues of the times, such as isolationism, socialism, religion, business, and welfare, as seen through the small-town mentality of the residents of Gopher Prairie.

Although this novel is over 500 pages long, it is worth reading to gain a realistic understanding of the cultural divide among Americans that still exists today.

This was Lewis' first novel, which was published in 1920. It achieved a huge success, both in terms of critical acclaim and commercial success.

It made him a wealthy man and initiated a career that would eventually lead to him winning the Nobel Prize for literature in 1930. Lewis believed that Main Street should have won the Pulitzer Prize in 1921, but it was narrowly beaten out by Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence.

This so enraged Lewis that when he did win the Pulitzer Prize in 1925 for Arrowsmith, he chose to refuse the award.

Main Street was the first major novel to feature small town America, and the public adored it. While his contemporaries, such as Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Wharton, were writing about New York, Paris, and the upper crust aristocracy, Lewis focused on the heartland.

Willa Cather perhaps came closest to Lewis in capturing the essence of the period and the people in the expanding Midwest.

An educated, cultured, and sophisticated big city girl relocates to a small town due to her marriage to the town doctor. Once there, she discovers herself grappling with the overwhelming simplicity of life and the mentality she encounters. Her struggles lie at the heart of the book.

This book is truly remarkable: it was completely eye-opening for me. As someone residing in a rural area, I could easily empathize with the main character. When you are in a place where being cultured is regarded with disdain, you are faced with a dilemma of either attempting to resist the system or surrendering and simply conforming. This very dilemma is precisely the central theme of the book.

This is not a story that is overly focused on the plot. So, if that is what you prefer, this may not be the book for you. However, it is undoubtedly a great starting point for reflection and intellectual discussion. This book has quickly ascended to my list of all-time favorites.

I used to travel across the state on occasion and visit some small towns. As I walked through those places, I thought to myself, “This looks rather nice. There might not be a whole lot happening here, but if you haven't been previously spoiled by the trappings of ‘city’ life, that is, if you didn't know any better, it could potentially be an enjoyable place to live.” Well, this book completely shattered that little theory of mine.

I suppose I was partially right in the sense that once you've experienced the glamour of a place like Paris (and that's a joke if you know where I actually live), it's difficult to move down to a farm. However, what's even more disconcerting is the realization that the freedom that Carol Kenniccott is seeking exists only in theory. Main Street is everywhere, and it's not all that great for the locals either.

What truly blew me away was how relevant this book still is. A hundred years later, in addition to the main themes of the book - the dullness and hypocrisy of American provincial life - we are still grappling with issues such as the treatment of immigrants and the poor, bigotry, the use of patriotism and morality (or the alleged lack thereof) as a weapon, and war. It's astonishing how these problems persist over time.

Gosh. I embarked on reading this book with the anticipation of it being a "satire of small town life". And while I suppose it could be labeled as such, in a similar vein as The Scarlet Letter being a satire of a coastal Puritan community, it's much more than that. It's definitely sarcastic and humorous in certain parts, but mostly, wow. Sinclair Lewis comes across as Mad As Hell.

In this story, Young Liberal Carol marries a town doctor and relocates to his small, conservative Minnesota hometown. The narrator presents Carol's perspective and her inner thoughts, yet maintains a certain distance from her. It shares her despair of the town but also judges her. I spent the initial third or so of the book attempting to discern how Lewis truly felt about her. However, as you progress further, it becomes increasingly evident that Lewis sees himself and his own experiences mirrored in Carol. There's deep sympathy for her liberal sentiments, yet also an intense awareness of her flaws and foibles. What was continuously and astonishingly surprising was the honest portrayal of the limitations - financial, social, and emotional - imposed on women, especially those in small towns.

It's a lengthy book, and yes, it has exhaustive descriptions of everything. But the descriptions and the pace are as frustrating and exhausting to the reader as the town is to Carol.

Then, around the halfway mark, the lens widens a bit, and you start to get the backstories of other characters. The town that seemed so flat and horrible to Carol has other people in it who long for things, fall in love, and experience heartbreak or loneliness. It's a bit like growing up and realizing you're not the special snowflake you thought you were.

The real reason I'm truly glad I read this book and want to recommend it to everyone is that around the halfway point, Lewis really begins to focus not so much on small towns themselves but on the Small Town Mindset and its toxicity in a way that feels eerily prescient and completely applicable to today.

Lewis also delves into economics and politics, taking jabs at the conservative businessman who preaches patriotism but avoids paying income taxes and at the mob justice that drove a socialist organizer out of town.

Some parts of the book are difficult to read. A woman is shamed and banished from the town for the crime of being the victim of an attempted rape. The queer-coded character, a man who is called a woman's name, also gets banished.

In the end, the moral seems to be that Carol should care less about what these horrible people think of her. She doesn't achieve a grand triumph, but she isn't crushed by the town either.

This book was published in 1920, and yet here we are, still fighting the same battles.

Small-town America. Ah, the scent of pine. The musty ramshackle old hardware store.

But what is this? Something amiss in one of these romanticized burgs? Something dark and sinister?

"I never imagined something like this would happen in our town," says the half-toothless talking head on the six o'clock news about the murder, even though you've seen this very thing happen in small towns 10,000 times in your life on the six o'clock news.

Small-town America is supposed to be different somehow; supposed to be better. But in reality, it's not all that rosy.

Fuck small-town America! The real murder is not just the cheerleader of Podunkville High who was raped and slain. It's something more insidious and widespread. It's not even a loss of innocence, because the innocence remains, dazed and confused, but always there, always cluelessly upbeat, always blaming the wrong causes for its woes. The real murder on Main Street America is a suicide; the suicide of small-town America; the murder of small-town America by its own hands.

Let the values voters of small-town America's Main Street keep on shooting themselves in the foot and dragging the rest of us down with them by electing right-wing corporate-puppet elites who don't give a tinker's damn about them or anybody else. Let the crackerbarrel bigots of Main Street stew in the backwash of their own hate. Let Walmart keep grinding into dust their shitty little stores. Let the untrammeled free-enterprise that you Main Streeters voted for put you out of work. Let you pull yourselves up by your bootstraps; the ones caked with McDonald's hamburger grease from the burgers you're now flipping for $5 an hour. Let the top 1 percent's mantra reign supreme: "What's good for us is good for the nation, and the world! (Oh, and thank you Main Street America, you suckers!)"

Let them continue to confuse ignorance for truth, faith for knowledge, creationism for science, heterosexuality as love's exclusive domain, poverty for charity, hope for ruthlessness. Let them believe that theirs is a self-righteousness and arrogance earned, not by reflection or learning but merely by believing and never budging and by insisting that you are wrong and the God is on their side only. Let the red states cover us with their nasty redness.

When Sinclair Lewis wrote Main Street nearly a century ago now, Main Street was thriving, the commercial pulse of the nation. A veritable galaxy of hubbub dots across the map. But Lewis did not predict the demise of Main Street in this formidable novel. Instead, in capturing its soul, a soul bereft of healthy curiosity, of a sense of its own promise, of a desire to see itself in the bigger picture, he tells us how it sowed the seeds of its own destruction, and by extension the decline of America.

Carol Kennicott, the city girl with the dreams and ideals of youth, the desire to share and to energize, the beautiful naivete of a progressive who wants to leave the world a better place than she found it, is Main Street's protagonist, a lovely soul after my own heart; a woman who wants to put the soul into a soulless place that wants none of it. In fact, I love love love Carol Kennicott. I could read an entire novel in which Carol Kennicott does nothing but prepare a tea service, or pick furniture, or shop for canned goods.

Well, actually, a lot of Main Street seems to be about just that: Carol Kennicott fixating on ever-tinier rituals within a domestic universe that shrinks to ever-smaller dollhouse-sized proportions. Full of world-beating notions out of college and fragrant with a modicum of sophistication, Carol marries a decent, reliable, uninspiring Midwestern doctor from the sticks of Gopher Prairie, Minnesota. Sold a bill of goods about the goodness of the town, the two go off to live there and Carol's dread of being domiciled within it is painfully rewarded with corroborating verification. The place is backward, banal, quietly venal, stiflingly tasteless, mercilessly moral and hypocritical, and deeply suspicious of city girls and city ideas. Gopher Prairie exists in the real 1920s; the 1920s of Zane Grey novels, not the 1920s of James Joyce or The New Yorker.

The novel is about Carol's struggle to fit into this place, to negotiate between her desires to be individual and to conform, to be true to herself or to be popular, to reflect credit on her husband while aiming mightily to drag the town kicking and screaming into the 20th century. Instead, it drags her down into the dusty dregs of conformity. Beaten down by homogeneity, as a raison d'etre eludes her, as higher youthful ideals decompose via bacterial reality, Carol becomes a tragic figure; a symbol of spayed pre-liberated womanhood, a Stepford Wife of the sticks. In a reality devoid of greater meaning or purpose, her world-beating ideas are reduced to finding doilies with patterns that best match those on the sofa armrest.

Lewis' book is a masterwork, too little read by today's readers. Main Street takes place in a world that may seem as appealing to engage as an arcane, tropical article in a yellowing magazine. But its world is essentially unchanged from today. The masses were asses then and they are still asses now; just as pliable, just as gullible, just as lazy, just as venal and just as lulled into low expectations.

It's hardly a piquant or ingenious observation that Sinclair Lewis is unsubtly contemptuous of this rural menagerie, but he shoots fish in a barrel with an impressively embroidered firearm. He bores deeply into this town, this world, and this woman's place in it. The thing took me forever to read--many months--but the effort was worthwhile. It's a classic.

Now, go out and canvass for Sarah Palin. Whoopeee!