In 1968, my first year of college, Robert Knox (who was assigned the job of teaching me American literature and who probably would have preferred to eat a frog) asked what my favorite novel was, and I without hesitating replied, "Arrowsmith." Knox said, "Well, you're immature." I think I read Arrowsmith three times in high school and loved it. It's very interesting to read again now; it's a flat book. Even the plague scenes in St. Hubert are not compelling, and the ending with Terry Wickett is just a mess. Why did I like it so much 40 years ago? Gottlieb is a well-done character. My plans to become a physician/scientist all date back to Gottlieb, but thankfully my parents stepped in and pushed me into another profession where at least I couldn't harm anyone. The first five paragraphs of Arrowsmith, ending with "That was the great-grandmother of Martin Arrowsmith," are justly famous. Maybe it's a good book not because of itself, but because of when it was written.
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