But Eaton also theorized that American literature is often too dark, too weird, for Masterpiece and maybe for TV more broadly. “This is a huge generalization, but [American novels] have tended not to have all the elements that make it good for television, whether it's too interior or there's not enough action,” the Boston-born Eaton said. By contrast, “the Brits tended to write more colorful stories rather than the darkness and struggle. Dickens and Trollope certainly knew how to write sequels, books that would make good ongoing series again and again. And the greatest love stories are in the Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudices. I don't know what our equivalent is.”

While an fan of the American canon might bristle at those comments, consider the history of literary adaptations. Whereas English Literature 101 authors like Shakespeare and Jane Austen have inspired a host of well-loved movies and TV shows, often, when talking about American writing turned into viewing, you end up talking about “genre” works: science fiction, Westerns, comic-book films, The Hunger Games. Most American novels widely regarded as classics have been made into movies or shows at one point or another, but many have yet to receive an on-screen treatment that lives on in the cultural memory. The 1956 adaptation of Moby Dick received some strong reviews upon its release, but is rarely seen today. Hemingway’s movies, for the most part, have been handled spottily by Hollywood. The 1995 The Scarlet Letter flopped; recent screen versions of As I Lay Dying and On the Road received middling reviews and never went to wide release.

There are, of course, huge exceptions to the idea that American lit doesn’t work in a visual medium—The Color Purple, To Kill a Mockingbird, Little Women, and East of Eden, among others, made a greater cultural impact when seen on screen. Eaton said she’d be interested in revisiting Gone With the Wind as a miniseries, if it were not for copyrights issues. But as for perhaps the most famous work of American literature that has been repeatedly adapted over the decades, Eaton seemed mystified. “The Great Gatsby really is a very enigmatic story—what is this really about?” she said. “It amazes me that it keeps getting taught.”

We want to hear what you think about this article. Submit a letter to the editor or write to letters@theatlantic.com.