Slaughterhouse Five by Vonnegut.
John Irving’s tomes come close, but no cigar.
Rather than determine the Great American Novel, I’d like to add another one to the list. How about All the King’s Men? It certainly impressed me.
I’m a fan of Barth (who is not Early American Fiction) & Pynchon, but understand how their styles can irritate some.
The Great Texan Novel: Lonesome Dove.
The Greatest American Novel That Nobody Else Has Ever Read: Now Playing at Canterbury by Vance Bourjaily. A midwestern university produces an original opera in the summer. Faculty, students, townies & visiting stars participate. A portrait of America in the early 70’s. (And each chapter includes a story told by a different character–each story with a different style & tone.)
Is Hemingway too European for our discussion?
Lolita–it qualifies on the “it’s about America” requirement too–all those lovely Cozee Cottages and Pine Views, teenager attitutde and the immigrant experience.
Nothing says American like an elitist masterpiece by a trilingual Russion. (Nabokov did say he was an American writer.)
Crap, I hope not. I just came by to nominate Farewell to Arms.
It should be right up there with Moby Dick, To Kill a Mockingbird and Huckleberry Finn.
I nominate Charlotte’s Web.
Yet another vote for Huckleberry Finn, for all the obvious reasons.
My nominee for second place is A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway. The subject matter of the novel is universal, sure, but I’ve always been drawn to his spare writing and his influence on a generation of writers.
By the way, I’m sure it’s old hat to point out that Ernest Hemingway apparently agreed with Huckleberry Finn: "All modern American literature comes from one book by Mark Twain called Huckleberry Finn.”
I was in seventh grade, which would have made me twelve. (circa 1965) Our teacher (a nun) read it aloud to us a chapter at a time in the period right after lunch. Three chapters in, I walked to the library and checked it out, impatient with the slow pace at which she was unfolding the story. I finished it a day later.
I understood that I had read something great, but it took the sophistication of maturity to grasp the entire scope of the novel. I have re-read this many times over the years. I would place it at the top of the list.
The Velveteen Rabbit 
I mean, who didn’t cry at this one? Come on! And yeah, she was born in England, but wrote the book here as a US citizen.
There are plenty of great novels mentioned here but Huck Finn is the most American of them. Gatsby comes in second.
I vote The Grapes of Wrath.
Well said. Whatever the Great American Novel is, it’s generally supposed to encompass these great American themes - I think that fits Gatsby to a T. It’s about wealth and privilege, the shortcomings of money, the myth of the self-made man, that kind of thing. Even if I’m wrong, the writing is amazing, so it’s fine. 
Most of my favorite American books have been mentioned already. I loved The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, but I’m not sure I’d put it on this list.
Snoopy, I think I love you.
Diogenes, I was already going to nominate Fear and Loathing when I saw your post.
Now, I think it’s a damned shame that Catcher in the Rye has been so misinterpreted so loudly* for so long that I’m probably going to get booed out of the thread for even suggesting. However, I am, and here’s why.
– The voice. The main character’s voice, grating as it is, is just as strong in that opening ramble as it is on the last page. Like him or hate him, he’s real.
– And you’re not supposed to like him that much. He’s a pain in the ass. He’s supposed to be. Check out the scenes at Pencey, and how he interacts with Stradlater and Ackley. He goes on and on about how obnoxious they are, and never realizes that he’s just as obnoxious. You’re not supposed to share his angst; you’re supposed to be impatient with him, until he finally breaks down completely, and you feel bad for laughing at him. But you still wish he’d quit whining.
– It’s a vivid portrait of NYC in 1950. Getting served in a bar at sixteen, no problem. Smoking anywhere and everywhere – I mean, a cigarette box in the living room. Live theater. Cab drivers who speak English. The elevator pimp. “We have a radio in [the car] now! Except that Daddy says no one can play it when the car’s in traffic.” (Wouldn’t you always be in traffic in New York, though?) Carrying all that money around and never once getting robbed for it. And through it all, the sense that things had changed since the war, and a vague sense that perhaps prosperity wasn’t all they’d said it would be.
– And the humor. It’s hilarious. Between the observations (“His name was Commander Blop or something”) and the personality clashes (“This sentence I’m reading is terrific”), there’s always some irreverent or conflict-driven humor. (And really, anyone who mourns the death of good manners should read this. People may have been more polite back then, but they were not much nicer.) Relax; you’re supposed to roll your eyes.
All in all, it’s not supposed to drag you down with the main character. You’re supposed to be glad you’re not him.
*I would say it also didn’t help that Mark David Chapman claimed that it inspired him to kill John Lennon, but the backlash didn’t start until long after that.
That’s the only reason I didn’t mention him. For Whom the Bell Tolls is very high on my list of favorites.
Two pages and no one mentioned Gone With the Wind? What is wrong with you people?
A great novel by an American, but not a Great American Novel.
My vote is split between East of Eden, Catch-22, Huckleberry Finn, The Great Gatsby, and To Kill a Mockingbird. Of those, my favorite is definitelyCatch-22, but I suspect the most Greatly American is either Huckleberry Finn or The Great Gatsby.
No love for the Lewis?
For excellent depiction of the hypocrisy of elements in Religion, American style present at the time (and simultaneously painting a picture of the current 700 Clubbers seventy years in advance) I humbly submit Elmer Gantry for consideration.
We will, by God, make this a moral nation! (Paraphrase, natch.)
I love reading threads like this. All of the books mentioned I either love with all my heart or hate with all my lower intestines, with very few that I am indifferent about.
I hate Hemingway, Vonnegut, Faulkner, Pynchon, Thompson, Kerouac; terrible, terrible books, vastly overrated. I love Fitzgerald, Heller, Steinbeck, Melville, Twain, Wolfe; can’t get enough.
As for what is the greatest American novel, its difficult to pick one out even from my own personal favorites. Most great novels can be said to suffer from some deficiency. The Great Gatsby is a perfectly put together novel, but it does does suffer because it is so specific to a certain time and place. Ditto for Lonesome Dove and Bonfire of the Vanities. Moby Dick is an overwhelming, ambitious, and truly fantastic work of art, but has poor pacing, and is at times too ambitious. The Grapes of Wrath is nearly perfect, but Jim Casy comes across as an artificial insertion into the story, often he is an unbelievable, psychologically unrealistic character, and a real black mark on the book. etc, etc . . .
I am surprised that no one has mentioned “A Confederacy of Dunces” by John Kennedy Toole.
It is a "Candide’ that could only happen in America… It has everything… Racial tension, Sexual Tensi0on,. commentary on the collapse of and rebuilding of attitudes of idealogies, icredible but real life characterisations and humour…
regards
FML
As someone else said with Slaughterhouse Five, I find that one to be a great novel by an American rather than a Great American Novel.