This post is a direct violation of one of the claims made on this blog’s “About” page. There the claim is made that “You will not be seeing a review of the latest novel…”. I suppose I could claim that, at the time of this review, The Lincoln Highway: A Novel is no longer the absolute latest novel, but the fact that it is a “#1 New York Times Best Seller” means it is precisely the sort of mainstream major publisher offering I had in mind when I made that claim. My primary defense is that I was tricked into reading it. Realizing that not everyone will see that as a legitimate justification, I will try to minimize the impact of the violation by not doing a very good job.

The trick I refer to is the naming of a book after what is probably the best known of American Named Auto Trails. On publication, the name got the book quite a bit of attention in historic road circles. But the excited chatter that the publication triggered was not followed by a bunch of reports from thrilled readers. I was not all that surprised. I am, after all, quite familiar with just how little The Grapes of Wrath, an older book rather popular among road fans, deals with viticulture.

I honestly had no intention of reading the book until a friend, whose opinion I trust, described it as “a very intriguing story” while confirming that it contained “not a whole lot about the highway”. At about the same time, I started noticing various accolades and warm reviews being heaped on the book. I put myself on the library’s waiting list, picked up the book when it became available, and read it in spite of — not because of — its title.

There have been other books that have taken the name of a highway for their own. I have not been particularly pleased when the name of a multi-state auto trail is used for a book that is basically about just one of those states but I’ve been tolerant. I’m not quite as tolerant when such a name is grabbed for something that isn’t really about any portion of the highway at all. I am also a bit put off by the counting down of chapters and the use of em dashes instead of established quoting conventions. I see both as gimmicks.

However, even with the gimmicks and questionable name, the tale the book tells is a damned good one. I think my buddy Dale’s one-line review sums up my view as well so I’m just going to brazenly steal it: “Not a whole lot about the highway but a very intriguing story of young men in 1954.”

The Lincoln Highway: A Novel, Amor Towles, Viking (October 5, 2021), 6.375 x 9.5 inches, 592 pages, ISBN 978-0735222359
Available through Amazon.