Sinclair Lewis

Summary

Sinclair Lewis Main Street — Chapter XXIII (1920)

She doesn't like one single thing; she hates the damp cave, the rats running over her bare legs, the stiff skin garments, the eating of half-raw meat, her husband's bushy face, the constant battles, and the worship of the spirits who will hoodoo her unless she gives the priests her best claw necklace. Her man protests, 'But it can't all be wrong!' and he thinks he has reduced her to absurdity. Now you assume that a world which produces a Percy Bresnahan and a Velvet Motor Company must be civilized. It is? Aren't we only about half-way along in barbarism?
Source: Wikisource

Sinclair Lewis Main Street — Chapter XXIII (1920)

He patted her hand. "Sis----Carol, you're a darling girl, but you're difficult. Know what I think?"
"Yes."
"Humph. Maybe you do, but----My humble (not too humble!) opinion is that you like to be different. You like to think you're peculiar. Why, if you knew how many tens of thousands of women, especially in New York, say just what you do, you'd lose all the fun of thinking you're a lone genius and you'd be on the band-wagon whooping it up for Gopher Prairie and a good decent family life.
Source: Wikisource

Sinclair Lewis Main Street — Chapter XXIII (1920)

So are they in Boston! And every place else! Why, the faults you find in this town are simply human nature, and never will be changed."
"Perhaps. But in a Boston all the good Carols (I'll admit I have no faults) can find one another and play. But here--I'm alone, in a stale pool--except as it's stirred by the great Mr. Bresnahan!"
"My Lord, to hear you tell it, a fellow 'd think that all the denizens, as you impolitely call 'em, are so confoundedly unhappy that it's a wonder they don't all up and commit suicide. But they seem to struggle along somehow!"
Source: Wikisource

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