Talia Carner is the author of the new novel Hotel Moscow. She also has written Jerusalem Maiden, China Doll, and Puppet Child. She is the former publisher of Savvy Woman magazine.
Q: How much did your own
experiences in the fall of 1993 affect your writing of Hotel Moscow?
A: Of all my novels, this is
the only one that touches on my personal experiences. Often, would-be authors start
by fictionalizing their own life. My first attempt was a manuscript set in
Russia after the fall of communism, a novel that celebrated Russian’s women’s
lives and their valor.
Twenty years later, while on
book tour for my novel Jerusalem Maiden, I was developing a character of a
young woman living in New York, a daughter of Holocaust survivors.
She represented many American
Jews who say they feel Jewish but don’t know what makes them Jewish beyond
eating bagels on Sunday. Brooke Fielding, my protagonist, was looking for a
deeper meaning, one unrelated to the Holocaust. I wanted to have her confront
anti-Semitism to help her examine her world-view.
I’m very involved in the
American Jewish community. I wanted to explore what it meant to have a Jewish identity
detached from faith. In the novel, Brooke is asking these questions in a subtle
way, and when she reaches some answers, they are still subtle. I’d be curious
what readers will make of it. Book groups, in particular—Jewish or not—will
have a lot of discuss.
In searching for a situation
of anti-Semitism that would force Brooke to confront her legacy and identity,
it occurred to me that I had done enormous amount of research for my first
unpublished novel.
I had documented the
background of time and place in detail, and if I sent Brooke to Russia, a very
interesting story would emerge. I was curious to follow her on that journey of
discovery.
What I had hoped was a six-months
project took me three years. Writing a novel is never simple. There was the
question of the protagonist’s past, growing up in a Holocaust-affected home.
When and how much should I include in the novel?
For the events in Russia, I borrowed
from my experience. I had been caught in the uprising of the Russian Parliament
against then-president Boris Yeltsin, was on the run from the militia, and
threatened with jail. The American Embassy whisked me out of the country.
The scene where Brooke is
playing Scrabble—that happened to me. Eighteen Kalashnikovs surrounded me, and
the other women sitting across the coffee table jumped over the couch to the
other side of the seating area and disappeared. I had served in the Israeli
Army; I knew my Kalashnikovs.
This was a highly unsafe situation,
and I had good reason to flee. But in the Soviet tradition I was accused of
running away because I “had something to hide.”
The other element of the
novel based upon my experience was the business skill workshops that Brooke
gives Russian women who run their cooperatives.
Q: How did you balance the
real events of that period with your fictional characters?
A: By the time I went back to
the material, it was 20 years old. When my husband read the first scene, where
Brooke gets stuck in the jetway, he said, “It happened to you!” I didn’t
remember; I thought I had invented it. The distinctions between reality and
fiction had been blurred.
However, the sexual
harassment was real: we were constantly pounced upon, literally. I had watched a
guy grab one of my colleagues’ hand, as I show in the scene with Amanda. For
him, she is a goddess. That’s how many Russian men viewed us, American women.
Sometimes it was just an awe-filled touch. In other instances it was more dangerous.
There were situations where
we were hosted by women’s cooperatives, but there were always male bureaucrats
gulping down vodka. We watched, powerless, as they sexually harassed the women
who hosted us.
Q: Can you say more about how
you created your main character, Brooke?
A: Two separate themes merged
here: I grew up in Tel Aviv with the children of Holocaust survivors. Many are
still my friends. The mother of my best friend used to tell me more than she ever
told her own daughter.
As I grew older, I began to understand
more what I had observed in my friends’ homes. By then, research had been
published about Second Generation. Every family in my neighborhood had its own
peculiarities, which I now view with adult eyes. At the same time, the more I
tried to understand the Holocaust, the less I understood it.
When I was 10 years old, I
went on a class trip to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, where they showed us
lampshades made of Jewish skin. The prevailing wisdom was that my generation
had to know it all the gruesome details and remember.
But as an adult, I could take
the anguish no more. In 1992, in Sydney, Australia, at the Holocaust Museum, I
broke down. My husband could not calm me down. Since then I was
“Holocausted-out.” I could take no more the anguish of being the target of such
brutal hatred; the pain was too much.
In Hotel Moscow, I wanted to
show someone who had heard too much about the Holocaust and wanted a normal
life. Interestingly, since I began writing about the Second-Generation issue, I
have been able to visit the new Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, but I watched everything
with a distant third eye as I walked in numb, shutting off the emotions.
Q: Are you working on another
novel?
A: I have 100 pages of
another novel that I started a while back but put aside. I don’t have the huge chunks
of uninterrupted time needed. When I develop a novel I work 10 to 16 hours a
day, six days a week for months that turn into years.
Currently, with the launch of
Hotel Moscow, I’m very busy with interviews and blogging about subjects
relating to the book. There’s a lot of work surrounding my book tour, which is
expected to last more than 18 months.
I enjoy speaking to audiences
about the social issues behind each of my novels. I do not do “readings,” but
rather keynote events with thought-provoking speeches, as those are great ways
to share my passion for social justice.
--Interview with Deborah Kalb
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