The most remarkable fact about Amor Towles is not that he worked at a hedge fund for more than 20 years before publishing his first novel, Rules of Civility, in 2011. No, the most remarkable fact about Towles is that he followed that best-seller, about a young woman and her friends in late 1930s New York, with two more novels that not only also became best-sellers but inhabit such different worlds: A Gentleman in Moscow (2016) and The Lincoln Highway (2021).
Those of us who have trouble picking a favorite Towles book now face the dilemma of having a fourth contender, Table for Two, a collection of short stories and a novella. And if you are looking for a reading break, well, you can watch A Gentleman in Moscow, the eight-part-series adaptation starring Ewan McGregor and now streaming on Paramount+.
JIM KELLY: You devote half of your new book to a novella about Eve Ross, a major character in Rules of Civility, who after a disastrous affair boards a train to Los Angeles and is never seen again. “Eve in Hollywood” follows her after her disappearance from New York, and it’s as if Eve has stepped out of the world of Fitzgerald and into Raymond Chandler territory. What attracted you to the idea of placing her in such a noir setting?
AMOR TOWLES: Like jazz, the hard-boiled detective genre is a uniquely American invention that has been appreciated and re-interpreted around the world. As a writer, I am interested in exploring all the different incarnations of American narrative. But I am also a longtime fan of noir, whether through the novels of Chandler and Ross Macdonald or the films of Humphrey Bogart. For both reasons, it was almost inevitable that I would eventually take a stab at the genre in my own idiosyncratic way. Eve’s unplanned arrival in Los Angeles in 1938 just called out for the approach.
J.K.: Table for Two also features a half-dozen short stories, all of them set in New York City and most taking place around the turn of this century. They are all terrific, but I would like to ask about “The Bootlegger,” which is about what happens when a man accuses a seatmate at Carnegie Hall of recording the concert. I won’t give away any details, but it is enough to say that rage, confrontation, remorse, and the marvel of Bach all play a part. What inspired this story?
A.T.: The opening of that story may be the most autobiographical thing I’ve ever written. In my early 30s, my wife and I subscribed to a series of piano concerts at Carnegie Hall. As this was our first foray into New York’s high culture of classical music, we dressed up and treated ourselves to a fancy dinner. But on the first night of the series, I realized the old man in the raincoat who was sitting next to me was illicitly recording the concert. I couldn’t get over the gall of it.
When we attended the second concert in the series, there he was again with his raincoat and his recording device. I was so irked by what he was doing, I couldn’t even listen to the famous pianist on stage. Instead, I spent the whole concert imagining this scofflaw’s comeuppance when I reported him to security. Of course, I didn’t report him. But my fantasy of indignation grew into “The Bootlegger.”
J.K.: A Gentleman in Moscow is such a different leap of imagination from Rules of Civility, but both are grounded in a meticulous re-creation of real-life detail. How did you go about making Count Rostov’s world so real, and did you stay at the Metropol Hotel?
A.T.: Rather than pursuing research-driven projects, I like to write from areas of existing fascination. Like many Americans, my interest in Russia began with reading the 19th-century greats such as Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Gogol, and Turgenev. That led me to an interest in the Russian avant-garde that flourished before the revolution, which led me to the writers who were later oppressed by the Soviet regime.
Most of the texture of A Gentleman in Moscow springs from the marriage of my imagination with this 30-year interest in Russian culture. In fact, when I began writing the book, I had only visited Russia for a total of two weeks, and I had never spent the night in the Metropol Hotel. But once I finished the first draft of the novel, I flew to Russia and moved into the Metropol, where I began the process of revision.
J.K.: For the televised adaptation of A Gentleman in Moscow, did you just say thank you and cash the check, or were you involved in the production? And any plans for turning your other books into series?
A.T.: As an executive producer, I was involved in the choosing of writer Ben Vanstone, director Sam Miller, and lead actor Ewan McGregor. As the author, I spent time with all three of them—before production began—discussing the history of the Metropol Hotel, the themes of the novel, and the backgrounds, personalities, and motivations of the principal characters. But at that point, I left the project in their hands.
There is no shortage of adaptations that have failed to capture the spirit of a novel, even when produced by talented teams. So, when I visited the set in Manchester, England, for the first time last March, I was a little anxious. Entering the vast soundstage, we passed by lumber and lights and technicians until we turned a corner and found ourselves before the façade of the Metropol. When we passed through the revolving doors, I looked around at the beautifully realized lobby, and my first thought was: Everything is going to be just fine.
As to other projects, I’m pleased to report that The Lincoln Highway will also be adapted for the screen, but as a Warner Bros. feature film written and directed by Chris Storer, the creator of The Bear.
J.K.: You have a remarkable range of voices, with Rules of Civility narrated entirely by a woman in her 20s and some of the characters in The Lincoln Highway speaking in the first person. How do you decide which people will speak directly to the reader, and is there a reason why you did not use that approach in A Gentleman in Moscow?
A.T.: For me, a story or novel begins with a very simple premise, like “a man gets trapped in a hotel for a long period of time … ” When such a premise catches my imagination, I tend to have a sense quite quickly of where and when the story takes place, who is at the story’s center, and what key events will occur. The question of who the narrator will be tends to come secondarily.
Narration can be divided into two central components. The first is point of view—in other words, where is the narrator situated in relation to the story’s events and, as a result, what does he or she know? Is the narrator omniscient, a principal character, an observer, or someone who’s heard of these events secondhand? Is the narrator male or female, old or young? Reporting in real time or looking back across the years? The second component is tone. Given the narrator’s situation in relation to events, is he or she neutral or opinionated? Reserved or witty? Compassionate or cruel? The discovery of the narrator’s point of view and tone is probably the single most important element of my work.
“For me, a story or novel begins with a very simple premise, like ‘a man gets trapped in a hotel for a long period of time … ’”
J.K.: Would you ever consider doing for Tinker Grey, another major character in Rules of Civility, what you have done for Eve Ross in Table for Two and recount his adventures after his disappearance from the book?
A.T.: For over a decade, I’ve answered no to this question, but now I’m not so sure. At the end of that novel, he has undergone quite a transformation. Events have forced him to look at himself honestly for the first time in his adulthood, resulting in a radical shift in his aspirations. It would be interesting to follow him into that new era and see how the world looks from his new perspective.
J.K.: You started a book club that began with reading Proust and has since taken on a lot of the classics, as well as engaged in binge-reading authors like Philip Roth. You also are a mystery fan, so much so that you edited and wrote a clever introduction to the latest volume of The Best Mystery Stories of the Year. Michael Connelly has complained that critics do not treat his books as literature, and I have friends who make fun of me for reading Richard Stark. There are plenty of bad mysteries, but there are also plenty of bad novels. What accounts for this snobbishness?
A.T.: There’s no question that genre fiction, upon release, is treated differently than literary fiction for a variety of reasons, some of which are practical (the shelving arrangement in bookstores) and some of which are lazy forms of elitism. But over time, books tend to be weighed by the excellence of their writing and their broader cultural influence. Given a little time, the best of genre fiction is re-assessed and elevated.
For 15 years, I was on the board of Library of America, the nonprofit institution that publishes the greatest works of American literature. In addition to publishing the works of Melville, Wharton, Twain, and Faulkner, the L.O.A. also publishes multi-volume sets of Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler, and Ross Macdonald. The entire series of Richard Stark’s Parker novels (which I love) are published by the University of Chicago Press. So perhaps for the deserving, redemption awaits.
J.K.: O.K., here comes the Paris Review question! What is your writing routine, where do you like to write, and do you have any tricks to get over writer’s block, if in fact you even know what that is?
A.T.: I’m usually at my desk from 8:30 till noon working without interruption. Then I’ll have lunch by myself at a restaurant’s bar, where I’ll edit the morning’s work, or begin drafting the next day’s pages. I have not wrestled too much with writer’s block. For me, inspiration is what eventually comes from punching the clock.
Jim Kelly is the Books Editor at AIR MAIL
