Widely regarded as one of Switzerland’s most versatile and successful literary figures, Charles Lewinsky has spent decades mastering the art of storytelling across various genres. Born in Zurich in 1946, he initially built a prolific career as a dramaturge, director, and TV scriptwriter before gaining international literary renown. His 2006 family saga, Melnitz, became a global bestseller, earning prestigious accolades including the French Prix du meilleur livre étranger. Lewinsky’s ability to weave historical depth with narrative wit has consistently placed him on the shortlists of both the German and Swiss Book Prizes.
In his latest novel, Eine andere Geschichte (‘A Different Story’), Lewinsky returns to the themes of memory and the complexities of 20th-century history. Set on a psychoanalyst’s couch in 1950s Los Angeles, the story follows aging film producer Curtis Melnitz as he reluctantly recounts a life that spans from the silent film era in Berlin to the harrowing liberation of Dachau. In the following interview, Charles Lewinsky reflects on why he feels the Melnitz legacy has finally been conquered and his belief that while life is made of accidents, we are the ones who turn them into stories.
In the prologue to ‘A Different Story’, you clarify that this Curtis Melnitz is “a different story” from the Uncle Melnitz in your 2006 bestseller. After decades of the name “Melnitz” being synonymous with your Jewish family saga, what compelled you to finally reclaim the real-life figure your grandmother told you about?
This character has been haunting me since the day my grandmother first told me about him seventy years ago. In the novel that bears his name I never planned for a character named Melnitz to be part of the story. But when I started writing he was sitting there and refused to leave. Characters sometimes do that. And this Melnitz was not at all the person my grandmother had told me about. That story still remained to be written.
You mention finding a photograph of the “real” Melnitz online after seventy years of hearing his story. Did seeing his physical face change the image of the fictional Curtis Melnitz you had been carrying in your head since childhood?
I had never imagined him to look one way or another. What had impressed me much more was a small detail. My grandma said: “He arrived in two cars” – and her explanation that his secretary was sitting in the second one did not make the idea any less magical. A man arriving in two cars – this scene just had to become a chapter in my novel.
I loved the way the novel circles around and eventually reveals Melnitz’s trauma: his participation in the liberation of Dachau. My own grandfather was in the Royal Welch Fusiliers and participated in the liberation of Bergen-Belsen in 1945. It was one of the foundational experiences in his life, and yet he – like Melnitz – never spoke about it. How did you come to the idea of writing about the Holocaust in this way?
Never ask a writer how he came to an idea, because we don’t know. Things like that happen while you are exploring a character and his time. For me writing a novel is a voyage of discovery. I enjoy not knowing where my journey will end up. If I knew the whole arc in advance writing it down would feel boring.
Eine andere Geschichte is written as a dramatic monologue from Melnitz to his psychiatrist, Dr. Cowan. Why did you choose to leave out Dr. Cowan’s voice entirely, leaving us only with Melnitz’s responses?
I think the reader will “hear” Dr. Cowan’s questions and comments in Melnitz’ responses. So it made the text more concise not to spell them out.
The story of the stationery shop owner, Suchanke, and his “Everything Must Go” (Alles muss raus) sign is an interesting early anecdote. Is this novel a literary version of that sign – a final clearing out of the attic of your own family stories?
You are welcome to interpret it that way, but I never thought about it like that. The Suchanke anecdote for me is a minor part of Melnitz’s recollections.
Melnitz admits he shortened his surname from Chmelnitzki to Melnitz upon arrival at Ellis Island to escape his past and the police. Having explored Jewish identity so deeply in your career, what does the abbreviating of a name say about the immigrant’s need to perform a new identity?
I think that giving a shortened version of your name at Ellis island was part of the decision to start a new life, setting new goals and following a new set of rules. And if you had one of those complicated and hard to spell eastern European names there was a very practical reason for the change: It made daily life easier.
Melnitz compares the work of a psychiatrist to that of a filmmaker – both parcel up experiences neatly to make life feel explainable. Do you agree with your protagonist that ordered fates only exist in books and films, and never in reality?
Most of what happens to us in life is pure accident. But the outcome of these events or situations is not random at all but very much influenced by our reactions, our determination and of course our intelligence. A door may open by accident, but it is our decision to cross the threshold or stay outside. Being run over by a car will probably not have been in our plans for the day, but our personal way of coping with the broken bones will determine whether the accident leads to a life centred on suffering or a tale of personal heroism. But whatever we choose it is in our makeup to tell it as a story of orderly fate.
Melnitz constantly views his life through the lens of cinema, referencing Greta Garbo, Ben Hur, and Montgomery Clift. Is this his way of distancing himself from the pain of his past, or is it the only way he knows how to communicate?
It is the world he has lived in all his life. So logically that is where his imagery comes from.
Melnitz mocks Sigmund Freud, saying he should have been a screenwriter because his theories give people the feeling they’ve understood something. Is Eine andere Geschichte a critique of the idea that human life can ever be truly “analyzed” or understood?
It is not a critique of anything. I do not tell stories in order to send messages. There is a quotation that has been ascribed to many authors that I like very much: “If you want to send a message, try Western Union.” As a writer you can hope to nudge your reader into thinking things over, but you cannot decide the outcome of his thoughts.
You open the book with a quote from Goethe: “The Summa Summarum of age is never truly refreshing.” At this stage of your career, do you find the process of looking back through fiction to be “refreshing,” or is it, as Melnitz says, like “poking at a boil”?
I reread my own books every ten years or so. Sometimes I like them or even think “I would never have thought of that” – then it is a refreshing experience. Sometimes all the things I could have done better are obvious – then it feels more like poking at a boil. But I have never regretted having spent my life in front of a keyboard.
I think the Melnitz legacy is finally conquered with this book.
Charles Lewinsky
Melnitz talks about wanting a “fade-out and end credits” (Abblende und Schlusstitel) for his life. Given that you’ve said you are getting faster at writing in your 70s, does this novel feel like a “Schlusstitel” for your exploration of the Melnitz legacy, or just another episode?
I think the Melnitz legacy is finally conquered with this book. There are so many other things that may turn out to be the kernel of a novel.
Can you tell us anything about your current or upcoming projects? Are you already working on a new novel?
After finishing a novel I always fall into a deep depression, convinced that I will never find a subject for another book. “Post scriptum omne animal triste.” In these doldrums I am quite unbearable. But my wife will be happy to report that I have started a new project and life is back to normal. I never talk about unwritten works. The chicken principle applies: First lay your egg, then start clucking.
Finally, can you tell us what books are on your bedside table right now, or which authors are you particularly enjoying at the moment?
I just discovered the American writer Kent Haruf whom I had never heard of and have devoured all of his wonderful novels.
Author photo © Thomas di Paolo
