R&K: You say that the future of hospitality is partly written in the past. What can today’s restaurants learn from the past?
Tower: I mean, look back at some of the great hospitality figures, like Harry Cipriani, the grand old man. My experience with him was that he just pulled miracles out of the air. You look at the great ones, you realize that they would always say yes, and then think, now what the fuck am I gonna do?
Why on earth do you need to believe in mythic godliness and messianic martyrdom at all? The only good reason is if ordinary flawed humans are not enough for you, because you have no independent and satisfying understanding of the world or how it works, outside of fairytales spun by charismatic grifters. Because if you can believe others are gods, you can allow yourself to be a child.
One key to understanding this singular elsewhere of (Anne) Carson’s might be gleaned from an interview with her and “the randomizer,” Robert Currie, her husband, sometimes collaborator, and consummate creative foil. As she describes their opposing approaches to work, she brings into focus the wider landscape that opens between them: “I have a limited number of arrows in my quiver, so I must take very careful aim and hit the target. Currie has an unlimited number of arrows and has never hit anything.”