Coined by John William De Forest in an 1868 essay, the Great American Novel, as many academics now posit, hasn’t yet been written. There have been some standout contenders such as “Moby Dick” (1851), “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” (1852), and “Huckleberry Finn” (1884), to name a few. And let’s not forget “The Great Gatsby” (1925).
When I finished reading Amor Towles’s “The Lincoln Highway,” a sweeping, episodic, and exuberant novel, I let out a soft sigh, contemplating whether this rollicking read would qualify for the lofty title.
