Rules of Civility

by Amor Towles

Could there have been a more contrary statue to place across from one of the largest cathedrals in America? Atlas, who attempted to overthrow the gods on Olympus and was thus condemned to shoulder the celestial spheres for all eternity—the very personification of hubris and brute endurance. While back in the shadows of St. Patrick’s was the statue’s physical and spiritual antithesis, the Pietà—in which our Savior, having already sacrificed himself to God’s will, is represented broken, emaciated, laid out on Mary’s lap. Here they resided, two worldviews separated only by Fifth Avenue, facing off until the end of time or the end of Manhattan, whichever came first.

Atlas and the Pietà: Even though I create detailed outlines for my books, while I’m writing I inevitably stumble on historical facts or images which are so perfect for my story, it’s almost as if the universe has dropped them in my lap. One such case in RULES OF CIVILITY is the Atlas statue in Rockefeller Center. In Chapter Twenty-Four, at something of a low point, Katey leaves her office to sit for a moment in St. Patrick’s cathedral. While she’s there, Dicky Vanderwhile finds her. The two end up having a conversation on the steps of the cathedral about Tinker Grey that proves a turning point for Katey—as she begins to confront her own shortcomings. When I wrote the first draft of this chapter, Katey makes only passing reference to the fact that in the back of the church is a large Pietà, the statue depicting the dead body of Christ draped in the lap of Mary. Shortly after writing the chapter, I happened to be at a meeting in midtown Manhattan. As it was a nice day, when the meeting was over, I decided to walk down Fifth Avenue. Suddenly, I was passing St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Having not be in St. Patrick’s for years, I slipped inside in order to confirm that the Pietà was where I thought it was. Having done so, I was leaving the cathedral and there, framed in the open doorway, was the Art Deco statue of Atlas directly across the street. The sculptural and moral contrast between the two statues was so striking, I immediately understood they belonged together in the book. So I went straight home and revised the chapter accordingly.