Towles delivers in novel, stories
There are plenty of reasons to write fiction: to inform, to thrill, to move, to challenge, to inspire. All of those come into play in Amor Towles’ work, but it seems to me that his main impulse is a very valuable one: to delight.
Towles dazzled millions with his mega-selling “A Gentleman in Moscow” as well as its successor, the amiable romp “The Lincoln Highway,” and its predecessor, screwball comedy “Rules of Civility.” Each was smart, distinctive and full of delights.
Same goes for his new “Table for Two.” It comprises six longish stories, all set in New York in various time frames, and a novel, “Eve in Hollywood,” which is a sequel to “Rules.” It takes one of its supporting characters, Evelyn Ross, on an adventure of her own in California, where “Gone With the Wind” (1939) is about to be filmed.
The New York stories are not the kind that are brief, fragmentary glimpses into the lives of protagonists who are waiting for a bus and wishing they hadn’t just been unkind to their aunts. These are jam-packed, juicy stories with lots of plot. Some take place over several years. Some even have chapters.
Mostly, the stories are narrated by a wry, all-knowing voice that reminded me of the character for which Charles Coburn won an Oscar for playing in the 1943 romantic comedy “The More the Merrier.” It’s the knowing, sophisticated, witty voice of a person who views events from afar, bemused by the foibles of humans who unwittingly get involved in fraud (“The Ballad of Timothy Touchett”), find fortune in a surprising way (“The Line”) or end a marriage for one of the most bizarre reasons you can imagine (“I Will Survive”).
It’s incredibly satisfying, oldfashioned storytelling with characters you care about, surprising but logical situations, liberal use
of cliffhangers and, in each story, an ending that deals out fate in a way you won’t have seen coming.
If the stories mostly have the vibe of screwball comedies such as “My Man Godfrey” or “Merrier,” the novel
shifts to something more like film noir. It’s a behindthe-tinsel tale of Hollywood that involves blackmail and nude photos of starlets, including the late Olivia de Havilland. Newly arrived in Hollywood, quick-on-herfeet, Evelyn befriends the future Oscar winner and, with the help of a retired cop and with plenty of rat-a-tat dialogue that recalls “Double Indemnity,” neatly turns the tables on the bad guys.
Again, there is lots of plot, but the pleasure in “Table for Two” is in Towles’ attention to detail, which extends even to the descriptions of handwriting.
In “Touchett,” in which hapless Timothy forges signatures on previously unsigned first editions, he observes the regrets of his boss, as evidenced by his handwriting: “Why, there in the droop of the capital P, you could almost see the old man’s head hanging in shame.”
He also marvels at novelist John Dos Passos’ signature: “The capitalized J, D and P were each finished with a loop that drifted high above the other letters, such that his signature gave the impression of a line of children walking in single file, three of whom were holding a helium balloon on a string.”
See what I mean? This is a book so packed with pleasure that even the letters are delightful.