Readers of Kevin Kwan’s books might be forgiven for expecting him to make a grand entrance to a lunch in Beverly Hills, perhaps in a Lamborghini, or perhaps in some fancy shades.
Instead, on an unseasonably brisk Tuesday in April, Kwan entered Crustacean’s private dining room, his head tilted hesitantly as if he were climbing over a low roof. He wore tortoiseshell glasses and a blue cardigan, his hair tucked thoughtfully behind his ears. A photo of David Foster Wallace without his bandana.
Kwan quickly moved a vase of white roses from one table to another. So, can we meet? ” and hugged Crastian chef “the great Helen Anne.” His garlic noodles make a cameo appearance in his new book, Lies and Weddings, which will be released on May 21st.
To understand Kwan’s reputation for greatness, consider his work. His debut novel, Crazy Rich Asians, published in 2013, has sold more than 5 million copies worldwide and been translated into more than 40 languages. A Broadway musical is in development. The film version is the first Hollywood blockbuster with a majority Asian cast since “The Joy Luck Club.”
Kwan’s next three novels deal with similar territory. Wealthy people act decadent and questionable, but they are usually cordial and always dignified. Those were also best sellers. At one point, the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy occupied the top three spots on paperback lists, and Kwan joined an elite group of writers that included Colleen Hoover.
Kwan didn’t say a word about these honors at lunch, nor did he seem to have much in common with his over-the-top, funny, superficial character. His transfer of flowers showed his willingness to look people in the eye. His hug was real, not an air kiss. Crustasian has become Kwan’s second home since moving from New York to Los Angeles in 2019. As for his car, Kwan doesn’t want to reveal the make and model, but it’s not the kind of car a valet would be willing to pay a high price for. Joyride.
“In the book, I’m exposed to the world, but I’m not part of that world,” Kwan says. “I feel like I’ve always been an outsider.”
Kwan has a habit of summarizing his characters’ education, and to some extent their lineage, with parentheses after their names. For example, the heartthrob in Lies and Weddings is Rufus Leung Gresham (Mount House/Radley/Exeter/Central Saint Martins) and his best friend Eden Tong (Greshams). Bury Nursery School/Mount House/Down House/Cambridge)” and secretly adored him, but his mother, Lady Arabella (Wilcox/Cheltenham/UWC Atlantic/Bird), was disappointed. I understand.
Mr. Kwan’s personal parenthesis is equally evident. “Far East Kindergarten/Anglo-Chinese Junior School,” he says, pausing to take a sip of his orange turmeric spritzer. “Clear Lake Middle School/Clear Lake High School/San Jacinto Junior College/University of Houston”
Kwan’s first school was in Singapore and “I grew up in a big house with grounds, staff and everything,” Kwan said.
On weekends, he boycotted Sunday school, preferring to sit with his parents in church (the “ground zero of Singaporean society”) and study social intrigue. Who dissed who? ”He then decided to go to lunch with his aunt, Mary Kwan. Mary Kwan writes for the Singapore Tatler and is like Auntie Mame, who “didn’t tolerate fools”. Their dining partners were traveling salons where artists, architects, businessmen, and royalty gathered.
“I was able to hold on,” Kwan said. “I didn’t act like a child. I joined in from a really young age and listened to the gossip and fed off of it.”
If these meals are an introductory-level lesson in observational techniques, Kwan graduated from his doctoral program when he moved to Clear Lake, Texas, with three weeks’ notice. Kwan’s father spent his childhood in Australia, and said, “I felt nostalgic when I returned to Singapore.” He was a faithful son. He gave his parents three grandchildren. However, he always wanted to live a different life. ”
Clear Lake is NASA country and around 1985 was home to “the last gasps of idyllic America,” Kwan said. “You went out and played with your friends until dinner time. I think that’s what my father really wanted for us. He also wanted to make us strong and make me strong. He was like, “Kevin, go mow the lawn.” Kevin, take out the trash. It has become a really good lawn mower. ”
Kwan’s new home, a suburban ranch, is a far cry from the sheltered luxury he left behind. His family lived very close to their neighbors. His mother taught piano. His father was one of the first franchisees of Marble Slab Creamery.
In Texas, Kwan skipped two grades and was the youngest and smallest student in his class, earning him the nickname “Doogie” (as in Hauser). “I was a strange kid. I was smart and verbal. I could talk about high society,” Kwan said. “I was about to finish reading Margaret Thatcher’s biography.”
Among the children of engineers and astronauts, there was room for creative types who liked writing and drawing. But Kwan didn’t pursue either of those things intensely until he enrolled in Victoria Duckworth’s freshman composition class at San Jacinto Junior College.
“She encouraged my love of writing and reading,” Kwan said. “She gave me Joan Didion’s ‘A Book of Common Prayer,’ and it just blew my world away.”
Although the two had lost touch for years, Duckworth knew of Kwan’s success and was happy to hear Kwan’s name when he called her at her Buffalo home. . Even as a teenager, Duckworth said, “Kevin’s writing seemed effortless. He had this wit.”
When Kwan shared his poems with her, she recalled, she was “preparing for the worst,” but he turned out to be a talented stylist with an “inner intellectual life.” did. “Kevin is one of the few students I remember,” said Duckworth, who has taught for more than 30 years.
At the University of Houston, Kwan began working seriously as a writer and filmmaker. He also received a new nickname, “Designer Poet,” due to his use of words such as “Armanisque” in his poems.
“I’ve always enjoyed pretend comedies,” he said. “I was very sensitive to that as a kid, because I was in a world where all these high-status people came and went.”
Kwan said he has never returned to Singapore. In 2018, the country’s Ministry of Defense announced that he would be required to serve his country for two years and could face a fine or prison sentence if he returns. In his youth, he dreamed of his homeland. Now, Kwan said, “people emerge from my childhood who have become fully formed characters.”
Writing the novel is a way to “remember and revisit” that part of his life, he said.
“Crazy Rich Asians” began as something Kwan planned to self-publish to entertain friends. Along the way, he said he was working on a book about “Strapless” author Deborah Davis and The Oprah Winfrey Show and was writing his own novel. Davis offered to read it.
“People were always asking me to read manuscripts, and they were always scary,” Davis said. But she liked Mr. Kwan — “he was neat, polite, had perfect manners” — so “I half-thought he probably wouldn’t read it,” but said, “Of course I will.” ‘ he said.
Davis was cooking Thanksgiving dinner for 25 people when the draft for “Crazy Rich Asians” arrived. “I looked at it and thought, okay, I’ll read five pages,” she said. “I read 5 pages. I peeled 5 carrots. I read 5 more pages. 10 more to go. This was the worst dinner I’ve ever made, but the best book ever.” I couldn’t stop reading it.
She encouraged Kwan to send “Crazy Rich Asians” to Michael Korda, a veteran biographer, novelist, and longtime friend.
Kwan was reluctant. “It’s like going to Michelangelo with a lump of coal and being told, “Here, I carved something, what do you think?”” Davis said, “I just gave up. There wasn’t.” In the end he fulfilled his duty.
Four days later, I got a call from Korda. He put Kwan in touch with Alexandra Machinist, then an agent at Janklow & Nesbitt, who sold the book to Jenny Jackson at Doubleday.
Kwan said “Crazy Rich Asians” was an instant hit in Asia. Excerpt from “VOGUE” June 2013 issue. When the book was released, it made it onto the bestseller list. And “Crazy Rich Asians” was a guest who sat by Caviar’s side for 41 weeks and never left. Kwan’s ascent has begun.
Now, more than a decade and four books later, he admits, “I wish I had written under a pen name.” he was joking.
“I’m an introvert,” Kwan explained. “I grew up in a family full of public figures and saw the pressures they had to endure. That just didn’t interest me.”
Kwan continued: “It’s hard to write in this voice, to write in the voice of these characters. Actors always say, ‘It’s hard to make comedy.’ I feel the same way about writing interesting novels. I can write the saddest story you want. You can even do it while you’re sleeping. ”
While working on “Lies and Weddings”, Kwan experienced his first writer’s failure. The pandemic was at a low boiling point. The world was full of uncertainty. “Those years changed me,” he said. “They changed everyone. Why couldn’t they? I was facing a new reality of what I wanted to write anymore. There was a lot of soul searching.”
Unlike the “Crazy Rich Asians” trilogy, his new work is not set in Singapore. The story jumps from England to Hawaii to Morocco, and features designer brands, priceless artwork, and luxurious accommodations that make Beverly Hills feel like a homebody. But beneath the bubbles is an undertow.
“Kevin writes about mixed-race heritage. He writes about gender more than ever before,” said editor Jackson. “The second layer is social commentary and keen cultural observation.”
The change is intentional, Kwan said. I am inspired by this new generation of Asians who are more comfortable with who they are. ”
He continued, “I love to see the theatricality of it all, the art, the fashion, the food. Just like when I was a kid. I love to sit and watch the drama unfold. What happens when friends get together? What happens when new people get married?”
Kwan, now 50, the same age her father was when the family moved to Texas, continues to stick to her upper-class character. He still maintains folders for each costume, location, and food. He said: “I try to show people who have money problems the real side of it. Heartache is still heartache. Grief is still grief. That’s what I talk about in all my books: how infantilizing it can be.
The garlic noodles come from a secret kitchen where Anne protects her family’s recipes from prying eyes.
“We hope to create a multifaceted portrait of people and their issues,” Kwan said. “For better or worse, this is what I know.”
