What is The Great American Novel?

This newsletter comes late in the week because of a larger undertaking and research project for next week’s newsletter. That project, about another “great American writer”, and the fact that it’s July 4^th, make it the time to take on this centuries-old designation. In contrast, research for this newsletter consisted of reading the Wikipedia entry for “Great American Novel” and a few Google searches (which feels like a very American amount of research these days). As recently as a month ago the New Yorker was asking “Is the Next Great American Novel Being Published on Substack?” Sure, why not. For a question that is endlessly debated and considered in far more arcane and academic ways, the criteria of what makes a novel break into the conversation of the Great American Novel, when you step back, doesn’t feel all that opaque.

Greatness

There’s some quintessential Americanness about the term Great American Novel originating from a guy in 1868 who thought the thing hadn’t been written yet. Such was the irrational confidence that something exceptional would come out of America artistically. Accepted so easily from the beginning, this first word in the phrase probably doesn’t get nearly as much scrutiny as the “American” part. Although this lack of definition might be for the better, as greatness is primarily defined by a “know it when you see it” quality, and the conversation seems to revolve much more around themes than style. This allows for a wide variety of types of writing over the years to be considered “great”: from classically written novels like The Grapes of Wrath and The Goldfinch to prose explosions like The Sound and the Fury and Gravity’s Rainbow.

No, the Great American Novel has always been more concerned with determining a novel’s worth not just on its execution but by what it says about the “character” and “soul” of America (as John William De Forest, the originator of the term, first identified). What exactly is the character and soul of America? Let’s explore the three big ones, in my extremely under-researched opinion:

1. Individualism

The first entry in the Wikipedia canon of Great American Novels is The Last of the Mohicans, defined by its “rugged individualism.” From the off, “individualism” has to be one of the cardinal themes that can gain a book entry into the canon. The Great Gatsby quickly became a front-runner for the great American novel when it was published in 1925 — maybe with help from the subliminal messaging from its title — and basically has held the first-thought pole position ever since. Even as the novel celebrates its 100^th anniversary this year, Nick Carraway and the titular Gatsby represent the pinnacle of the individual’s struggle for status, love, and meaning within the American condition. There are dozens of others novels that center around individualism, from the depraved Lolita and American Psycho to the innocent The Catcher in the Rye and The Adventures of Augie March. Individualism probably has to be mentioned first because a good portion of the other novels that fit the other major common themes often also heavily feature individualism as a theme and/or are the study of one primary character.

2. Racism

Racism is the twin preoccupation of America and much of its great literature. Part of this strain has been well-meaning (in various degrees) white people who tackled the subject highly imperfectly, starting with Uncle Tom's Cabin, which tellingly both canonized racist archetypes and was a powerful tool in the abolitionist movement. Then followed up Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, followed by Gone with the Wind, and later every A-English Student’s favorite novel To Kill a Mockingbird. On the other hand, you have Black novelists who have gotten down to the deepest part of an individual’s soul and the layers of complexity oppression will take on as a means to uphold a power system. From Invisible Man to Go Tell It on the Mountain (really it’s hard to pick the right Baldwin novel for this designation), to Beloved, and now of course James, which jumped in the conversation immediately last year. This is not to ignore the other forms of racism that have been the subject of and made a bid for the pantheon (check on The Round House for a modern contender). The internet doesn’t know who exactly said it first, but racism is sure as American as apple pie.

3. Landscape

The final frontier of the Great American Novel is the literal frontier. Americanness is defined by an obsession with largeness, in story and in literal size. Large books have always been a way to get into the “great” conversation of many stripes, and the American-specific discussion is not immune: to be long, complicated, smart, and obsessed with America like Infinite Jest and Underworld are, is sufficient. Scope and sweep are important, but so is the actual land. Lots of the Great American epics like Moby-Dick, The Grapes of Wrath, and Lonesome Dove combine many of the classic three with a sense of the grandeur of nature and sense of boundlessness that few other places have in literature or otherwise.

Modern American Greats – Where to Start?

What’s the state of the Great American Novel today? Don’t worry, they still come around every once in a while. Here are a few good picks for each of the three major themes.

Landscape – The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt

New York, Vegas, a sweeping individual’s journey (ignore the Amsterdam part, for many reasons), as much as I’m woe to recommend Tartt for the thousandth time, the giant landscape-defied epic has slowed down to a trickle in American literature. Maybe it’s because there’s no longer quite the frontier there was throughout history.

Racism – The Sellout by Paul Beatty

While there have been many great novels on the subject of racism written in the 21^st century, The Sellout feels unique to the canon and to the times. It also fits the great American mold of a novel with an unconventional style and individual journey.

Individualism – The Idiot by Elif Batuman

In a weird way Batuman’s novel has the trappings of The Great Gatsby, hitting all the classics: status, love, and search for meaning, but updated to reflect the America of 100 years later. Carrying on a tradition that both feels the same (Harvard) and totally new (a queer Turkish woman). And isn’t that the true story of America and its great literature? Let me know your contenders for the modern Great American Novel in the comments and happy Independence Day.

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