Education: Professor Lewis

Two months ago Sinclair Lewis went touring in his native Middle West, scene of Main Street, Babbitt, Elmer Gantry. One day in Madison, Wis. he met University of Wisconsin’s President Clarence A. Dykstra, took such a fancy to academic life that he impulsively offered to teach Wisconsin’s students without pay. President Dykstra agreed.

“Professor” Lewis leased a house in Madison until July, settled down to teach creative writing to 28 enthusiastic undergraduates. They soon pronounced him a “right guy.” He lectured to his class at top speed, carried on bull sessions in his study far into the night. He told his students: “If you really want to write, to be something, to aim as high as Shakespeare, you’ll find English courses absolutely useless.” He dropped a student from his class because “She’s too young.” To the rest he suggested plots, explained tricks of his trade, read and criticized 100,000 words of their writings. A co-ed exclaimed: “He tries to build up a person’s imagination.”

But Mr. Lewis found Wisconsin’s faculty less than cordial. They avoided him, gossiped about him at the University Club, carped at him in faculty meetings. One day last week “Professor”‘ Lewis abruptly announced to his class: “I have said all I could say in a year.” Next day he packed his bags and took a train to Manhattan. Although his departure was outwardly amicable, the Milwaukee Journal reported that he had told a friend: “I’ve had enough of the faculty objecting to this and that. I’m through.” The Journal also unearthed the reason for the faculty’s hostility: they feared, despite his denials, that Sinclair Lewis planned to write a novel about them.