The 1936 film version of Dodsworth was a gem that Evelyn and I discovered working through a critics' list of the best American films. I was impressed by its perceptive and chilling depiction of a retired couple drifting apart as they travel through Europe.
Sinclair Lewis, author of the book Dodsworth, is a Nobel Prize winner who no one seems to read or talk about anymore. His biographer says, "He was one of the worst writers in modern American literature..., " which is rather discouraging. However, I was impressed enough by the film that I craved the added depth of the novel.
The biggest difference between the book and film is the scope of Sam Dodsworth's plight. In the book he has a full-on mid-life crisis, leading him to question his success, his place in the world, his Americanism. The movie, wisely, focuses on the frightening (to me) chasm that opens between Sam and his wife Fran; it turns out they want entirely different things from life. It's enough to make me reluctant to retire.
I expected Lewis' prose to be clunky and staid, but it was fine and lightly satirical. The story could stand to lose a few repetitive incidents, some characters do make thematic speeches, and the ending felt rushed after the leisurely pace of the rest of the book. But overall I enjoyed the writing and found plenty of insights. The descriptions of 1930s Europe were a bonus.
Sinclair Lewis, author of the book Dodsworth, is a Nobel Prize winner who no one seems to read or talk about anymore. His biographer says, "He was one of the worst writers in modern American literature..., " which is rather discouraging. However, I was impressed enough by the film that I craved the added depth of the novel.
The biggest difference between the book and film is the scope of Sam Dodsworth's plight. In the book he has a full-on mid-life crisis, leading him to question his success, his place in the world, his Americanism. The movie, wisely, focuses on the frightening (to me) chasm that opens between Sam and his wife Fran; it turns out they want entirely different things from life. It's enough to make me reluctant to retire.
I expected Lewis' prose to be clunky and staid, but it was fine and lightly satirical. The story could stand to lose a few repetitive incidents, some characters do make thematic speeches, and the ending felt rushed after the leisurely pace of the rest of the book. But overall I enjoyed the writing and found plenty of insights. The descriptions of 1930s Europe were a bonus.
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