Sinclair Lewis Remembered

112. Allen Austin

112 / Allen Austin A master’s student at Columbia University, Austin was writing his thesis on Lewis as a satirist. He interviewed Lewis on June 20, 1948. Source: Allen Austin, “An Interview with ­ Sinclair Lewis,” University of Kansas City Review 24 (1958): 199–210. We sat down and Lewis began asking questions about me. It was some time before I managed to ask him what kind of work he had done before he was able to earn his living by writing. “I worked for publishing houses mostly,” he said, then immediately turned the topic of conversation back to me. “Let’s see, you want to teach? You want a Ph.D.?”34 “Perhaps,” I answered. “I don’t know.” “If you want to teach,” he said, waving his finger at me, “you’ve got to have one. It’s like trying to become a doctor without an M.D. It’s all bosh, but you’ve got to have one if you want to teach. “I guess some people learn something,” he continued, “but I know a lot of boneheads who have Ph.D’s. I had a Ph.D. in drama up here [Max Flowers] and he didn’t even know who Matthew Arnold was.35 Oh, he knew vaguely. He’d heard of him—remembered reading something of Arnold’s one time. He did know something about drama, but that’s about all.” Lewis paused and grinned slyly. “Anyway, English teachers are mostly frustrated writers.” I said that some teachers also wrote. I mentioned, as an example, Lionel Trilling ’s Middle of the Journey [1947],36 which had recently been published. “The reviews I read were good,” Lewis said. “Is he English?” I said that he was not. “Lionel is an English name,” Lewis remarked. “I wrote a story one time about a man named Lionel, an Englishman. He came over here to write a book on America. He was a regular Babbitt. I hope Lionel didn’t think I was writing about him.” “I wouldn’t think so,” I said. Part 14. Thorvale Farm / 321 “It’s not a common name, you know. Anyway, I had this man coming over on the ship, and he was trying to talk Ameri­ can lingo. He kept asking the Ameri­ cans: ‘What’s your line?How do you get your dough?’ And each time they would say, ‘I beg your pardon.’ Finally, he said, ‘You know, you know, how do you dig it? How do you get your bread?’ Each one told him, very sedately. One was a school teacher, one a banker, one a lawyer, etc. Lionel comes on over to America, and he likes the country very much. But he goes ahead and writes his book, criticizing us severely. The book sells well in England, and he makes a lot of money.” Mrs. Powers, whom I had forgotten, stood up and said she was going into the house for a while. After she had left, Lewis told me that he would like to do a story on labor. “I don’t know anything that’s been done on a real labor leader, do you?” “There’s Steinbeck’s In Dubious Battle [1936]. Of course, this is Steinbeck’s portrayal of a Communist.” “I don’t have that in mind,” Lewis said. “I’m talking about a plain, hard-­ boiled labor leader.” “In Steinbeck’s novel, the man organizes fruit pickers in California.” “I haven’t read that. I don’t know why. I’ve read most of Steinbeck. I’ve got it upstairs. I’ll get it down and read it.” “In Dos Passos’s USA there’s a labor leader, but he’s not an important character . Besides, he’s an opportunist.” “Well, I don’t want that. I want a hard-­ boiled labor leader and a hard-­ boiled factory president. You see, the new manager gets tough with labor, and a young radical in the labor movement keeps trying to stir up trouble. Finally, the president and the old labor leader get together and settle their diffi culties.” I nodded my head. “It sounds boring,” Lewis remarked. “It would probably be hard to translate into dramatic terms,” I said. “Yes. Maybe that’s why it’s never been done. I’ll have to get that Steinbeck novel down and read it.” I felt that this was an opportunity to ask Lewis some questions about his own work. “Would you say, Mr. Lewis, that the main thing...