Vermont's Quiet Unease

In Fort Beulah, Vermont, life seems stable, but beneath the surface, anxiety simmers. Doremus Jessup, a thoughtful newspaper editor, observes the growing restlessness and political posturing at local gatherings. The country is still reeling from the Great Depression, and the townsfolk, though proud of their traditions, are increasingly susceptible to the rhetoric of strongmen. Doremus senses a shift in the air—a vulnerability to demagoguery and a longing for order that could easily be exploited. The community's laughter and rituals mask a deeper fear: that the world they know is more fragile than they admit, and that the unthinkable could, in fact, happen here.

The Rise of Buzz Windrip

Berzelius "Buzz" Windrip, a charismatic and cunning senator, emerges as a national figure by promising prosperity, discipline, and a return to American greatness. With the help of his manipulative advisor, Lee Sarason, Windrip crafts a populist message that appeals to the disaffected and the fearful. He denounces elites, scapegoats minorities, and offers simple solutions to complex problems. His campaign is a spectacle of parades, songs, and slogans, drawing in the desperate and the ambitious alike. Doremus watches with growing alarm as Windrip's movement gains momentum, sensing that the country's institutions are not as immune to authoritarianism as many believe.

The Jessup Family's World

The Jessup household is a microcosm of American society: Doremus, the skeptical editor; Emma, his practical wife; their children—ambitious Philip, spirited Sissy, and grieving Mary. Their home is filled with books, debates, and the routines of small-town life. Yet, as Windrip's influence grows, tensions rise within the family. Philip is drawn to the promise of order, while Sissy and Mary question the new regime's morality. Doremus's friendships—with the independent Lorinda Pike and the rugged Buck Titus—become lifelines as the world outside grows more uncertain. The family's bonds are tested as the nation's political climate darkens.

The Gospel of Fear

Windrip's campaign is fueled by fear—of communists, immigrants, and social change. His platform, the "Fifteen Points," promises security and prosperity but is laced with bigotry and authoritarianism. The media, cowed or complicit, amplifies his message through propaganda. Religious leaders like Bishop Prang lend spiritual legitimacy to the movement, while the League of Forgotten Men rallies the disaffected. Doremus recognizes the tactics: the manipulation of language, the creation of enemies, the stoking of hysteria. He warns his readers, but his words are drowned out by the chorus of conformity. The machinery of propaganda grinds on, reshaping reality.

The Fifteen Points Unveiled

Windrip's "Fifteen Points" are revealed as a mix of populist promises and repressive measures: nationalizing industries, restricting minorities, outlawing dissent, and concentrating power in the executive. The plan is both vague and menacing, designed to appeal to every grievance while granting Windrip unchecked authority. Doremus dissects the platform in his editorials, exposing its contradictions and dangers. Yet, many are seduced by the promise of stability and prosperity. The seeds of totalitarianism are sown, and the nation's democratic safeguards begin to erode under the weight of false hope and calculated fear.

The Campaign of Promises

Windrip's campaign sweeps the country with spectacle and fervor. The Minute Men, his private militia, march in uniform, intimidating opponents and enforcing loyalty. The media is saturated with patriotic songs, staged parades, and testimonials to Windrip's greatness. Dissenters are mocked or silenced. The Jessup family is divided: some cling to the old ways, others are swept up in the excitement. Doremus feels increasingly isolated, his warnings dismissed as cynicism. The line between entertainment and politics blurs, and the nation votes not for reason, but for reassurance and spectacle.

Election Night in America

On election night, Windrip's victory is met with both jubilation and dread. Celebrations spill into the streets, but beneath the surface, fear takes hold. The new regime wastes no time: opposition newspapers are shut down, political rivals are arrested, and the Constitution is sidelined. Doremus and his friends realize that the unthinkable has happened—the country has chosen dictatorship. The Jessup family braces for the unknown, their home no longer a sanctuary but a target. The machinery of repression begins to turn, and the cost of resistance becomes painfully clear.

The Minute Men March

The Minute Men, now an official arm of the regime, enforce Windrip's will with violence and intimidation. Towns are divided into provinces, local leaders replaced by loyalists, and the rule of law is replaced by martial edict. Doremus's newspaper is taken over, and he is forced to write propaganda under threat. Friends and neighbors disappear into concentration camps. The Jessup family is harassed, their every move watched. The sense of community dissolves, replaced by suspicion and fear. The promise of order reveals itself as the reality of oppression.

The Death of Democracy

The new government dismantles the checks and balances of democracy. Congress is sidelined, the courts are neutered, and the press is muzzled. Political opponents are imprisoned or executed. The regime's corruption is rampant, with officials enriching themselves while the people suffer. Doremus witnesses the transformation of his town: neighbors turn informant, old friends become enemies, and the very language of public life is twisted to serve the regime. The cost of speaking out is high, but the cost of silence is higher. The dream of American exceptionalism dies, replaced by the nightmare of totalitarian rule.

The New Order Descends

Daily life becomes a struggle for survival. Food is scarce, jobs are rationed, and the labor camps swell with the regime's victims. The Jessup family is torn apart: Mary's husband is executed, Sissy is threatened, and Doremus is arrested and tortured. The concentration camps are hellish, ruled by sadistic guards and plagued by disease. Yet, even in the darkest moments, small acts of kindness and defiance persist. Doremus clings to his humanity, finding solace in memories, books, and the hope of reunion with loved ones. The regime's promises are exposed as lies, but the machinery of oppression grinds on.

Resistance in the Shadows

In the face of terror, a clandestine resistance forms. Doremus, Lorinda, Buck, and others risk their lives to print pamphlets, smuggle refugees, and gather intelligence for the exiled Walt Trowbridge. The New Underground is a patchwork of liberals, socialists, and former conservatives united by a common enemy. Betrayal is constant, and the price of failure is death. Yet, the movement grows, fueled by the regime's brutality and the unquenchable desire for freedom. Doremus finds purpose in the struggle, even as the risks mount and the circle of trust narrows.

The Price of Dissent

The regime's response to resistance is swift and merciless. Doremus is arrested, beaten, and sent to a concentration camp. Friends are executed or broken by torture. The Jessup family is scattered: Mary is killed in a suicide attack, Sissy flees, and Emma is left alone. The camps are a crucible of suffering, where hope is a liability and survival a daily battle. Doremus endures humiliation and pain, but refuses to betray his comrades. The cost of dissent is measured in blood and broken spirits, but the alternative—submission—is unthinkable.

Family Under Siege

The Jessup family's ordeal mirrors that of the nation. Emma clings to routine, Sissy becomes a spy, and Mary is consumed by vengeance. The bonds of family are tested by fear, loss, and the demands of resistance. Doremus's love for Lorinda is both a refuge and a source of guilt. The family's home is invaded, their possessions destroyed, and their future uncertain. Yet, in moments of tenderness and sacrifice, they find the strength to endure. The regime can break bodies, but not the ties of love and memory.

The Machinery of Oppression

The regime's power is maintained through surveillance, propaganda, and the calculated use of terror. Informants are everywhere, and trust is a luxury few can afford. The camps are laboratories of cruelty, designed to break the will and erase individuality. The regime's leaders—Windrip, Sarason, Haik—are consumed by paranoia and ambition, turning on each other as the system they built devours its creators. Doremus witnesses the transformation of ordinary people into monsters and martyrs, and the slow erosion of hope. Yet, even in the machinery's shadow, the seeds of resistance take root.

Betrayals and Broken Spirits

Friends become informants, neighbors betray neighbors, and the regime rewards treachery. Doremus is haunted by the knowledge that survival often requires complicity. The camps are filled with men and women who once believed themselves immune to evil, now reduced to desperation and shame. The regime's idealists are disillusioned, its opportunists exposed. Yet, in the midst of betrayal, acts of courage and solidarity persist. Doremus learns that the line between victim and perpetrator is thin, and that the true test of character is not in grand gestures, but in the refusal to surrender one's soul.

The Concentration Camps

Life in the camps is a daily struggle against hunger, disease, and brutality. Doremus finds unexpected camaraderie among fellow prisoners—Communists, conservatives, and apolitical men alike. The boundaries of ideology blur in the face of shared suffering. The guards are both victims and villains, corrupted by power and fear. Escape is a constant dream, but the reality is grim. Doremus survives through wit, resilience, and the memory of those he loves. The camps are a microcosm of the regime's failure: a place where the promise of order gives way to chaos and cruelty.

The New Underground

With the help of Lorinda and Sissy, Doremus escapes to Canada, joining the exiled resistance led by Trowbridge. In Montreal, he finds a community of refugees—idealists, pragmatists, and broken men—united by the dream of reclaiming their country. The work is slow and often thankless: printing pamphlets, organizing cells, and smuggling information across the border. Doremus is haunted by the friends he left behind, but finds purpose in the struggle. The regime's grip is weakening, and rumors of rebellion spread. The hope of liberation is fragile, but it endures.

The Fall of the Dictators

Windrip is overthrown by Sarason, who is in turn murdered by Haik. The regime's leaders, once united by ambition, turn on each other in a spiral of paranoia and violence. The machinery of oppression grinds on, but the cracks are widening. The people, weary of war and deprivation, begin to resist. The New Underground's message spreads, and the dream of democracy is rekindled. Doremus, now a seasoned agent, returns to America to aid the rebellion. The struggle is far from over, but the tide is turning. The lesson is clear: tyranny is always vulnerable to the courage of ordinary people.

The Long Road to Hope

Doremus, scarred but unbroken, continues the struggle for liberation. The cost has been immense—lives lost, families shattered, ideals betrayed—but the spirit of resistance endures. The story ends not with victory, but with the promise of renewal: the knowledge that as long as there are those willing to speak the truth and risk everything for freedom, the darkness cannot last forever. The final image is of Doremus, moving through the dawn, carrying the memory of all he has lost and the hope of all that might yet be regained.

Characters

Doremus Jessup

Doremus Jessup is the heart of the novel—a small-town newspaper editor, husband, and father who values reason, decency, and the written word. Initially skeptical of both radicalism and reaction, he is forced by circumstance to confront the reality of fascism in America. His journey is one of gradual awakening: from detached observer to active resister, from comfort to suffering, from cynicism to hope. Doremus's relationships—with his family, friends, and especially Lorinda Pike—reveal his vulnerabilities and strengths. He is not a natural leader or martyr, but his stubborn refusal to surrender his conscience makes him a quiet hero. His psychological arc is one of endurance, guilt, and the search for meaning in a world gone mad.

Emma Jessup

Emma is Doremus's loyal and practical wife, embodying the virtues and limitations of small-town America. She is devoted to her family and home, finding comfort in routine and tradition. As the world changes around her, Emma struggles to adapt, clinging to the belief that decency and order will prevail. Her inability to fully grasp the dangers of the new regime is both a source of frustration and a poignant reminder of the costs of complacency. Emma's love is unwavering, but her worldview is challenged by the suffering of her family and the collapse of the world she knew.

Sissy Jessup

Sissy is Doremus's youngest child, a spirited and intelligent young woman who matures rapidly under the pressures of dictatorship. Initially playful and irreverent, she becomes a key member of the resistance, using her wit and courage to gather information and support the New Underground. Her relationship with Julian Falck is both romantic and political, symbolizing the hope of a new generation. Sissy's psychological journey is one of disillusionment, loss, and the forging of a new identity as a fighter for freedom. She represents the resilience and adaptability of youth in the face of oppression.

Mary Jessup Greenhill

Mary, Doremus's older daughter, is transformed by tragedy. The execution of her husband by the regime awakens a fierce desire for justice, bordering on fanaticism. Her grief becomes a weapon, driving her to acts of defiance and ultimately to martyrdom. Mary's arc is one of loss, rage, and sacrifice. She is both a victim and an agent of change, her suffering a testament to the personal costs of political violence. Her relationship with her son David and her family is marked by tenderness and sorrow, highlighting the intergenerational impact of tyranny.

Lorinda Pike

Lorinda is a widow, businesswoman, and social reformer—Doremus's intellectual equal and emotional refuge. She is practical, courageous, and unafraid to challenge convention. Lorinda's relationship with Doremus is a source of strength for both, offering love and partnership in a world of fear. She becomes a leader in the resistance, organizing safe houses and supporting the New Underground. Lorinda's psychological complexity lies in her balance of idealism and pragmatism, her willingness to risk everything for both love and justice. She embodies the possibility of new beginnings amid destruction.

Buck Titus

Buck is Doremus's closest confidant—a bachelor, outdoorsman, and skeptic of authority. He provides practical support and emotional grounding for Doremus, joining the resistance with characteristic humor and courage. Buck's independence and resourcefulness are vital to the survival of the New Underground. His psychological arc is one of reluctant engagement: drawn into the struggle by loyalty and principle, he becomes a symbol of the American spirit that refuses to be tamed. Buck's fate in the camps is a reminder of the costs of friendship and the unpredictability of resistance.

Shad Ledue

Shad is the Jessup family's former handyman, whose resentment and opportunism propel him to power as a local Corpo official. He is both a product and an agent of the regime, using his position to settle old scores and enrich himself. Shad's psychological makeup is a mix of inferiority, cruelty, and self-justification. His rise and fall illustrate how totalitarian systems empower the worst elements of society. Shad's betrayal of the Jessups and his eventual demise in the camps are both personal and political, a cautionary tale of the dangers of unchecked ambition.

Lee Sarason

Sarason is Windrip's right-hand man—a master of propaganda, manipulation, and intrigue. He is the brains behind the regime, crafting its message and orchestrating its rise. Sarason's psychological profile is that of the true believer turned cynic: he is driven by ambition and a belief in his own genius, but ultimately consumed by the system he helped create. His betrayal of Windrip and brief rule as dictator reveal the instability and self-destructive nature of authoritarian power. Sarason's fate is a warning that those who build tyrannies are often their first victims.

Berzelius "Buzz" Windrip

Windrip is the novel's central antagonist—a populist leader whose charm and cunning mask a deep insecurity and lust for power. He is both a product of his time and a manipulator of it, exploiting fear and resentment to seize control. Windrip's psychological arc is one of hubris, paranoia, and eventual downfall. His regime is marked by broken promises, corruption, and brutality. Windrip's relationships—with Sarason, his followers, and the people—are transactional and ultimately hollow. His exile and irrelevance at the novel's end are a testament to the fleeting nature of power built on lies.

Effingham Swan & Dewey Haik

Swan, the sadistic provincial commissioner, and Haik, the ruthless Secretary of War turned dictator, represent the regime's descent into pure violence and repression. Both are psychologically marked by ambition, cruelty, and a willingness to do whatever is necessary to maintain control. Their rise to power signals the regime's shift from populist spectacle to naked terror. Their actions—executions, torture, and betrayal—are the logical outcome of a system built on fear. Their eventual downfall is both a relief and a warning: the machinery of oppression consumes even its masters.

Plot Devices

The Descent into Dictatorship

The novel's structure mirrors the slow, almost imperceptible collapse of democratic norms. Through incremental changes—propaganda, the creation of the Minute Men, the passage of the Fifteen Points—Lewis shows how a free society can be transformed into a dictatorship without a single dramatic coup. Foreshadowing is used throughout: early debates and warnings are dismissed as alarmist, only to be realized in full horror later. The narrative's focus on ordinary people and their daily lives grounds the political in the personal, making the abstract threat of fascism immediate and tangible.

Propaganda and Language Manipulation

The regime's power is maintained through the manipulation of language and the control of the media. Slogans, songs, and staged events create a false sense of unity and purpose. The press is co-opted or silenced, and dissenting voices are marginalized. The use of euphemism—"protective arrest," "reconditioning camps"—masks the reality of violence and repression. The novel's shifting narrative voice, moving from satire to tragedy, reflects the disorientation experienced by the characters as their world is remade in the regime's image.

The Family as Microcosm

The Jessup family's struggles—loyalty, betrayal, grief, and resistance—reflect the broader societal collapse. The breakdown of trust within the family parallels the erosion of community and the rise of suspicion. The family's endurance, despite loss and separation, becomes a symbol of hope and the possibility of renewal. The interplay between public and private life is a constant theme, highlighting the ways in which totalitarianism invades even the most intimate spaces.

The Camp as Crucible

The camps are both literal and symbolic: places of suffering, but also of solidarity and self-discovery. Doremus's experiences in the camps strip away his illusions and force him to confront the reality of evil. The camps are laboratories of both cruelty and resistance, where the boundaries between victim and perpetrator blur. The motif of waiting—endless, uncertain, and dehumanizing—underscores the psychological toll of oppression. The camps are also sites of rebirth, where new alliances are forged and the seeds of rebellion are sown.

The Cycle of Tyranny and Resistance

The novel's structure is cyclical: each new tyrant is overthrown by another, but the machinery of oppression persists. Yet, within this cycle, the possibility of resistance remains. The New Underground, though fragile and often ineffective, represents the enduring human capacity for hope and defiance. The narrative's open ending—Doremus setting out once more to fight—suggests that the struggle for freedom is never finished, and that the greatest danger is not defeat, but the surrender of the will to resist.

Analysis

It Can't Happen Here is Sinclair Lewis's chilling exploration of how democracy can be subverted from within, not by foreign invaders but by the fears, prejudices, and complacency of its own citizens. Written in the shadow of rising fascism in Europe, the novel remains a powerful meditation on the fragility of freedom and the ease with which ordinary people can be seduced by demagogues. Lewis dissects the mechanisms of authoritarianism—propaganda, the cult of personality, the scapegoating of minorities, the erosion of institutions—and shows how they thrive on apathy and the longing for order. The novel's enduring relevance lies in its refusal to offer easy answers: resistance is messy, costly, and often futile, but it is also necessary. The story's emotional arc—from hope to despair to renewed struggle—mirrors the cycles of history, reminding us that the fight for justice and dignity is never truly over. Lewis's ultimate lesson is both sobering and inspiring: the greatest safeguard against tyranny is not faith in leaders or systems, but the courage of ordinary people to speak, to question, and to act—even, and especially, when it seems hopeless.

Last updated: August 12, 2025