Sinclair Lewis was kind of a jerk. Or at least, that’s how a lot of his neighbors in Sauk Centre, Minnesota, felt when he started publishing. He didn't write flowery prose about the "good old days" or the majesty of the American spirit. Instead, he took a magnifying glass—the kind that burns ants—and held it over the small-town porches, the stuffy medical boards, and the hypocritical pulpits of the early 20th century. If you’re looking into books by Sinclair Lewis, you aren’t just looking for "classics." You’re looking at the original blueprint for the American social critique.
He was the first American to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. That’s a big deal. But he didn't win it for being polite. He won it because he had this uncanny, almost frightening ability to record exactly how people talked when they thought no one important was listening.
The Big Three: Main Street, Babbitt, and Arrowsmith
Most people start with Main Street. It dropped in 1920 and basically blew the doors off the idea that small-town life was a pastoral utopia. Carol Kennicott moves to Gopher Prairie and realizes it’s... well, it’s suffocating. It’s narrow-minded. It’s full of people who are terrified of anything new. Honestly, if you’ve ever lived in a town where everyone knows your business and judges you for buying the "wrong" brand of coffee, Main Street will feel weirdly modern. Lewis wasn't just poking fun; he was documenting a specific type of American provincialism that hasn't really gone away.
Then came Babbitt in 1922. George F. Babbitt is a real estate agent. He’s successful, he’s a "go-getter," and he is absolutely, soul-crushingly empty inside. The word "Babbitt" actually entered the dictionary to describe a person who conforms blindly to middle-class standards. He’s the guy who buys things because he’s supposed to, joins clubs because it’s good for business, and realizes too late that he has no idea who he actually is. It’s a brutal look at consumerism before we even had a name for it.
Arrowsmith (1925) is a different beast. It’s probably the most "heroic" of the books by Sinclair Lewis, following Martin Arrowsmith as he navigates the messy world of medical research. Lewis actually worked with a science writer, Paul de Kruif, to make sure the lab stuff was accurate. It’s about the tension between pure science—the desire to just know things—and the commercial pressures of the medical industry. Even today, with all our debates about Big Pharma, Arrowsmith feels like it was written last week.
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The Book Everyone Mentions on Twitter: It Can't Happen Here
You’ve probably seen the title. It Can't Happen Here (1935) gets a massive spike in sales every time there’s a weird election or a political scandal. It’s his "dictator novel."
Lewis wrote it fast. You can tell. The prose is jagged and urgent. It imagines a folksy, populist politician named Berzelius "Buzz" Windrip who wins the presidency by promising to make everyone rich and then immediately turns the country into a fascist state. What makes it scarier than something like 1944 or Brave New World is how American the fascism is. It’s not foreign. It’s not "other." It’s built on picnics, flags, and "common sense." It shows how easily a democracy can slide into something else if people are bored or angry enough.
Why He’s Harder to Read Than You Think
Lewis is a mimic. He catches the "ughs" and "anyways" of 1920s slang perfectly. But because he was so good at capturing his specific time, some readers find the dialogue a bit dated. You have to get used to characters saying things like "bully!" or "by golly."
Also, he doesn't really do "likable" characters.
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Carol Kennicott can be a bit of a snob. Babbitt is a coward for 90% of his book. Elmer Gantry—from the book of the same name—is a straight-up con artist using religion to get laid and get paid. Lewis wasn't interested in making you fall in love with his protagonists. He wanted you to recognize them. He wanted you to see yourself in them and feel a little bit itchy about it.
The Satire That Bit Back
When Elmer Gantry came out in 1927, it was banned in several cities. Boston hated it. Some ministers called for Lewis to be lynched. Why? Because he dared to suggest that some charismatic preachers were actually just salesmen in fancy robes. He spent months "researching" by hanging out with real preachers, even standing in their pulpits. He wanted the dirt. And he found it.
His books aren't just stories; they’re social autopsies.
The Later Years and the "Lewis Slump"
It’s a bit of a tragedy, honestly. After he won the Nobel Prize in 1930, his work started to decline. He struggled with alcoholism. He felt out of touch with the newer, grittier "Lost Generation" writers like Hemingway or Faulkner.
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Books like Cass Timberlane or Kingsblood Royal have their moments—Kingsblood Royal is actually a pretty searing look at racism in the North—but they lack the sharp, lethal edge of his 1920s output. He spent his final years traveling Europe, somewhat lonely, still writing but never quite catching that lightning in a bottle again.
How to Actually Read Sinclair Lewis Today
If you want to dive into books by Sinclair Lewis, don't just grab a random one off a thrift store shelf. There's a strategy to it if you don't want to get bogged down.
- Start with Babbitt. It’s shorter than Main Street and the satire is much more obvious. You’ll recognize George Babbitt in every LinkedIn "thought leader" you see today.
- Move to Main Street. Read it when you’re feeling frustrated with social expectations. It’s the ultimate "I don't belong here" novel.
- Check out It Can't Happen Here for the politics. It’s less of a character study and more of a "what if" thriller.
- Skip the late stuff until you’re a superfan. Focus on the 1920-1935 window. That’s where the gold is.
Lewis changed how Americans saw themselves. He taught us that "normal" is often just a mask for "terrified of change." He showed us that the biggest threats to our freedom or our happiness aren't usually monsters from the outside; they're the boring, everyday pressures to fit in and keep our mouths shut.
His writing is a reminder that being a "good citizen" isn't the same thing as being a good person. Sometimes, the most patriotic thing you can do is point out where the paint is peeling and the foundation is cracking.
To get the most out of his work now, try looking for the Library of America editions. They have the best notes to explain the 1920s slang that might otherwise fly over your head. Also, keep an eye out for the 1960 film version of Elmer Gantry starring Burt Lancaster—it captures the "Lewis energy" better than almost any other adaptation. Stop treating these as homework and start treating them as the spicy, controversial, "cancel-worthy" bestsellers they actually were.
Key Takeaways for the Modern Reader
- Look for the "types." Lewis categorized American archetypes (the salesman, the doctor, the preacher) so well they still exist.
- Don't expect happy endings. These aren't feel-good stories; they're mirrors.
- Notice the dialogue. He uses repetitive phrasing to show how shallow his characters' thinking is.
- Context matters. Remember that when he wrote these, he was attacking the very people who were buying his books. That took guts.