Sinclair Lewis Remembered

82. Dorothy Thompson

82 / Dorothy Thompson Notwithstanding her concern about Lewis’s drinking, Thompson admired his integrity. Even after his death, long years after their divorce, she allowed that she harbored a “bleeding pity” for him that was “a deep and ineradicable form of love.”1 Source: Dorothy Thompson, “­ Sinclair Lewis: A Postscript,” Atlantic Monthly 187 (June 1951): 73–74. I recall that, early in the Nazi regime, Klaus Mann (son of Thomas) started publishing in exile (as I remember, from Amsterdam) an émigré monthly.2 He wrote­ Sinclair Lewis describing the paper as a vehicle for young exiled German writers, and asking S.L. to allow his name to be used on the masthead as a “contributing editor.” Red refused on the ground that he was not “a young German writer,” was unwilling to sponsor a publication which he would be unable to follow, and believed that publications should stand honestly on their own feet. Klaus Mann, however, came out with the first issue without waiting for Red’s answer, with his name on the masthead—a fact which was first called to Red’s attention by a cabled protest from his German publisher, Ernst Rowohlt.3 Red’s books were still selling extremely well in Germany, and Rowohlt cabled him that the Mann publication was a “disgusting émigré sheet” and that his continued association with it would lead to the suppression of his books in Germany. Now, it would have been simple and truthful for Red to have replied that Mr. Mann had used his name without his consent and despite his refusal—and Nazis or not, Red, as you know, wanted his books read. Actually, also, he was thoroughly annoyed with Klaus Mann. But his immediate reaction was that his relations with young Mann and his publication were none of Rowohlt’s (or the Third Reich’s) business! He cabled Rowohlt:—“dear Er nst have you gone cr azy quest ion mar k do you honest l y t hink I wil l l et you or your gover nment or any ot her gover nment t el l me what I shoul d wr it e or wher e I shoul d publ ish” Now, Ernst Rowohlt (as his record has shown) is no tower of civil courage. 226 / Sinclair Lewis Remembered But, right from the heart of Nazi Germany, he cabled back:—“t hank God t her e ar e st il l some men among wr it er s.” Red, I later heard (from Rowohlt), was the only writer among those whose names had been exploited on the Mann masthead, and whose works were still published in Germany, who did not yield under similar pressures from their own German publishers. And actually Red’s books went on being published and circulated until he wrote It Can’t Happen Here. His hunger for “culture” was really deeply moving. Like most writers he was a poor linguist. But there is something wholly admirable in his determination to learn Italian at the age of sixty. Until he was over fifty he had no interest whatever in music. Suddenly he “discovered” it, and thereafter, for years, the phonograph was playing the classics five or six hours a day—sometimes it could be maddening! He hated all games, until in his late middle age he determined to master chess. (This was after our separation, and I don’t know what kind of chess player he became.) But the fanaticism you noted extended to everything. He never did anything for fun. He was a peripatetic self-­ improvement association—dragging his intimates with him, too, and insisting they share his earnest efforts, often until their nerves were screaming in rebellion! ...