Babbitt

BabbittGeorge F. Babbitt is an exhausting character—exhausting because he’s so familiar. The title character of Sinclair Lewis’s 1922 novel is a perfectly respectable man who loves his family and his city and is proud of his accomplishments. He’s done everything right, joined the right clubs, held the right opinions, and steered clear of anything that carried even the faintest whiff of socialism. He’s a solid, middle-class citizen. And he’s dreadful.

Babbitt may be a “good” man, but his goodness is selective:

But Babbitt was virtuous. He advocated, though he did not practice, the prohibition of alcohol; he praised, though he did not obey, the laws against motor-speeding; he contributed to the church, the Red Cross, and the YMCA; he followed the custom of his clan and cheated only as it was sanctified by precedent; and he never descended to trickery.

When Babbitt’s son Ted starts to mull over the idea of finding work that helps other, perhaps in a settlement house, he puts it to a quick stop:

“Now you look here! The first thing you got to understand is that all this uplift and flipflop and settlement-work and recreation is nothing in God’s world but the entering wedge for socialism. The sooner a man learns he isn’t gong to be coddled, and he needn’t expect a lot of free grub and, uh, all these free classes and flipflop and doodads for his kids unless he earns ‘em, why, the sooner he’ll get on the job and produce—produce—produce! That’s what the country needs, and not all this fancy stuff that just enfeebles the will-power of the working man and gives his kids a lot of notions above their class.

Sigh. Too familiar.

But we’re not meant to take Babbitt’s views seriously, except as a demonstration of what (or how) not to think. Lewis makes a point of showing us how he contradicts himself or how his views defy logic.  One minute he’s declaring that we have no business interfering with foreign governments, and in the very next sentence he’s expounding that we need to kick “those Bolshevik cusses out” of Russia. He can’t even recall from one minute to the next that he’s quit smoking!

Babbittism is no coherent model for political thought. Babbitt’s beliefs mostly seem to be those that will further his pursuit of financial success. Holding popular beliefs make him a credit to the community, thus a more successful real estate agent. A strong commitment to ethics, combined with flexibility in applying those ethics, allows him to make more money than truly honest dealings would. He does what’s expected and rationalizes his decisions in whatever way he can.

It was weirdly reassuring to find such a familiar political type in Babbitt. The ideas slung around by today’s politicians are not new, and the U.S. hasn’t yet gone to rack and ruin. We survived the Babbitts past; we can survive the Babbitts present and future.

The book follows the life of George Babbitt over a couple of years. Over the course of the novel, Babbitt comes to recognize how empty his life is. He’s surrounded himself with the right people and the right possessions, but … but … something isn’t right. He tries to make a change—go on vacation, get religion, even flirt tentatively with Socialism. But nothing seems to stick. The passion fades, or the social costs are too steep. This, too, has a ring of familiarity, but a more unsettling one than the familiarity that allows me to point fingers at poor unenlightened Babbitt.

By the end of the novel, Babbitt has made a choice. He knows who he is and who he is going to be. He’s figured out his place, and he will live in it. But is it the right choice? Will this choice stick any more than the others? Will he truly be happy, or is he deceiving himself because he needs to believe in his own happiness? Is there a way to get out from under society’s expectations without raining disaster down upon yourself? At the end of the novel, we’re left with a sliver of hope, but 90 years after this novel was published,  the world still seems full of Babbitts. Individuals may have found a way out, but the problem of Babbittism remains.

About these ads
This entry was posted in Classics, Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Babbitt

  1. It has been so long since I read Babbitt it was fun to read your review. Many of Lewis’s books are indeed timeless which is both reassuring and depressing. But how did you like reading it?

    • Teresa says:

      I alternated between liking it a lot and finding it tedious. I loved how accurate it was at depicting a particular type of person, but I didn’t always enjoy dwelling in the mind of such a person.

  2. heavenali says:

    I have to confess I have never heard of Babbit – sounds rather interesting though :)

  3. Jeanne says:

    You’re right; this is oddly reassuring!

  4. Deb says:

    If you’re looking for a couple of Sinclair Lewis lesser-known novels that conversely show how much things have changed versus how depressingly similar certain “types” are, I recommend reading Ann Vickers (the life of a proto-feminist, including an abortion and an out-of-wedlock child) and Kingsblood Royal (a red-headed, blue-eyed man discovers he is 1/64th black and, thus, by the standard of his day, is suddenly considered to be black). No writer can present how people clutch at the very social mores that constrict them better than Lewis.

    • Teresa says:

      I love the way you say that–Babbitt does “clutch at the very social mores that constrict” him, and Lewis shows it very well. And thanks for the suggestions of other books of his to read. I’ll keep those in mind.

  5. Jenny says:

    I thought I had read something by Sinclair Lewis, but turns out I haven’t. I’d be interested in reading Main Street (as his most famous) but Elmer Gantry also sounds pretty good, along with the movie/play. Have you seen it?

    • Teresa says:

      I used to get Sinclair Lewis and Upton Sinclair completely mixed up. I may get around to Main Street one day (although I’ve no idea what it’s about), and the books Deb mentions sound good, too.

      I saw the movie of Elmer Gantry years ago. I remember that I mostly enjoyed it, but it’s over-the-top in the very specific melodramatic way 1960s movies sometimes are. I have to be in the right frame of mind to enjoy a movie like that. I did enjoy the handful of chapters on religion in Babbitt but don’t know what I’d think of having Lewis’s take on the subject spread out over a whole book.

  6. Melissa says:

    I thought this one was so interesting. It reminded me of Franzen’s The Corrections in the way that it focused on discontent midwestern society with unlikeable characters. But I thought that Lewis did it well and Franzen missed the boat.

    • Teresa says:

      I hadn’t thought of the comparison to The Corrections, but I can see the commonalities. I think maybe the difference is that Lewis is able to show Babbitt’s humanity even while being critical of them, but Franzen is too focused on their ridiculousness to make them seem real. The Corrections felt mean to me in a way that Babbitt didn’t.

Leave your comment here, and feel free to respond to others' comments. We enjoy a lively conversation!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s