352 pages, Paperback
First published January 1,1927
Donald Trump's political rallies have always struck me as being little more than evangelical tent meetings. These gatherings are a uniquely American institution that dates back to before the Revolution. They seem to follow cycles of popularity, approximately every fifty years from the middle of the 18th century. What Trump has achieved, aside from any political upheaval, is the latest revival of the Revival. "Elmer Gantry" serves as a how-to manual for this kind of work and has aged remarkably well since it was written a century ago. Even if Donald Trump has never read it (which is likely), he has surely learned how to embody it and exploit its presence in the American cultural DNA.
The central figure in a tent meeting is, of course, the preacher. What he preaches about is far less important than how he does it. He is a showman, and his audience expects a good performance. Those who participate in a revival do so not to learn or consider, much less to argue, but to believe in something, anything really, with others they perceive as tribal members.
America is a Christian nation in at least one important respect: believing is belonging. Belonging has historically been of great value to a people on the edge of civilization, living among others - other refugees, Native Americans, Black slaves - with nothing in common except their location and a constant fear of betrayal or attack. Revivalism has always been inherently racist and super (that is, anti) natural. Even at the beginning of the 19th century, it could attract as many as 20,000 people in what was still largely the wilderness of Kentucky.
The revival creates community by giving people something to believe in and others who are ready to believe. Historically, revivalists have believed in rather outrageous things, from the imminence of the Second Coming to the peculiar holiness of the American Republic, to the superiority of Northern European culture. The questionable nature of such beliefs, aside from generating feelings of spiritual camaraderie, is irrelevant to the participants. Their desire to believe in order to belong is overwhelming. It is no accident that the most notorious cults, both secular and religious, are the product of this aspect of American culture. The historical matrix of these intensely believing, intensely belonging groups is the revival.
It is remarkable how the grifting personality of Lewis's protagonist captures the social essence of Trump. Elmer was never really liked. He was supposed to be the most popular man in college; everyone believed that everyone else adored him, but none of them wanted to be with him. They were all a bit afraid, a bit uncomfortable, and more than a bit resentful. Elmer assumed that he was the center of the universe and that the rest of the system was valuable only as it afforded him help and pleasure.
Elmer's electoral and clerical shenanigans are Trumpian in their shameless determination to dominate. But also in their obvious plea for acceptance. He desperately needs his audience as he plays on their need for belonging. The greatest urge was his memory of holding his audience, playing on them. To move people - Golly! He wanted to be addressing somebody on something right now and being applauded.
Elmer, like Trump, is a creation of his audience. He had but little to do with what he said. The willing was not his but the mob's; the phrases were not his but those of the emotional preachers and hysterical worshipers whom he had heard since babyhood. The lack of originality is crucial. What he says must be familiar, resonating not with thought or reason but with forgotten emotion. It is his sense of inarticulate feelings that is the source of his power.
However, his audience little knows that they will become more and more like him, and that what that means is literally diabolical because he had, in fact, got everything from the church and Sunday School, except, perhaps, any longing whatever for decency and kindness and reason. Elmer and Trump use religious language not because they believe it but because it is the opening to any amount of counter-factual nonsense. Why is it that it's only in religion that the things you got to believe are against all experience? This is not a query but a principle of method. Faith is impervious to experience. This is what Elmer and Trump know. Essentially, anyone who believes in the Virgin Birth, Predestination, and the absolute necessity of full immersion baptism will believe anything!
"Elmer Gantry" is not a period piece; it is an insight into the perennial American culture, a culture of inherent alienation. National (and nationalistic) mythology has never been sufficient to overcome the pervasive alienation among a country of immigrants. The line from George Whitfield in Savannah (and his advocacy for the reintroduction of slavery in Georgia) to Barton Stone at Cane Ridge (a sort of "Te Deum" for the defeat of the Native Americans in the Northwest Indian Wars) to the involvement of white evangelicalism in the Jim Crow legislation after the American Civil War, to the gentile racism of Billy Graham and other 20th-century fundamentalists leads directly to Trump. "Elmer Gantry" is not about a temporary and transient aberration in American culture but about its very constitution.
* It might seem that I am overstating the case. I am not. Tertullian, a Christian apologist of the late 2nd century, explained the intellectual attitude of the new religion quite well in his dictum "Credo quia absurdum" - "I believe because it is absurd." It is clear that this is the explanation for so much of modern life, particularly life with the internet. The more absurd the statements of Trump or QAnon or Tucker Carlson, the more they are taken as the way the world is. In short, the Christian idea of faith is central to American culture and generates its affection for salaciousness. It also goes a long way in explaining much of American advertising.
The Publisher Says: Today, Elmer Gantry is universally recognized as a landmark in American literature. When it was first published, it scandalized readers, leading Sinclair Lewis to be "invited" to a jail cell in New Hampshire and facing the threat of lynching in Virginia. The book portrays a golden-tongued evangelist who rises to power within his church. He is a supposed saver of souls but lives a life of hypocrisy, sensuality, and ruthless self-indulgence. It is also a record of a period, a reign of grotesque vulgarity that, without Lewis, might have left no trace. Elmer Gantry has been called the greatest, most vital, and most penetrating study of hypocrisy since Voltaire.
My Review: I grew up in a single-parent household. My mother was a pedophile, and I was her victim. She was also an extremely religious fanatic, a conservative social fascist conformist, and a cold, appearance-obsessed shrew. However, when dealing with strangers, she would present herself as a pious, charming, and lovely woman. So, for me, Elmer Gantry was not just a novel but a documentary. I read it around the age of fifteen, just after reading Babbitt, and was amazed to find my own experiences with the asshole religiosifiers who surrounded me described in a book over fifty years old! I have always hated them with a passion, then and now. Reading this book was like a soothing balm for my outraged soul: These people aren't the first! They didn't invent this idiocy! If Lewis could escape and tell his story, so can I! The rise of Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, and that ignorant ilk is not new. This novel shows that this kind of perverted conservative religious stupidity has always existed, and its basic small-souled evil is not unique to our times. Depending on my mood, this realization is either a comfort or a misery. But reading this classic exposé of the long-standing culture of ignorant and evil exploitive "salvation artists" always makes me feel less alone and less like I'm misinterpreting things.