October 15, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Adaptation; Lending Books By Lorin Stein I’m a student at the Tisch School for the Arts in New York City, where I concentrate in writing for musical theater. I’d like to adapt a novella or short story for the stage and was hoping you might have some suggestions. Thanks, Leslie Since you ask—I’ve always thought Grégoire Bouillier’s novella-length memoir, The Mystery Guest, would make a fantastic play. It’s the true story of a guy who goes to a fancy party where he doesn’t know anybody, hoping to find out why his girlfriend walked out on him five years before. To my mind, it’s very dramatic stuff. At FSG we even made a fake movie trailer to promote it. Full disclosure: I translated the thing into English, but I signed away any royalties years ago. I just want to hear someone sing a show tune about Sophie Calle. Read More
October 8, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Tongue-Tied Poet; Writing Spaces By Lorin Stein Dear Lorin, I am giving my first ever “real” poetry reading in a few weeks. Whenever I go to readings, the writers are charming and chatty and tell stories in between selections of their work. How do you do that? I am not at all confident in my ability to improvise witty remarks in front of an audience. It’s nerve-wracking enough reading the poems! —Tongue-tied Dear Tongue-tied, It’s not your job to be ingratiating. Leave that to lounge singers. I find it embarrassing when a poet tries to be liked, or explain what he or she was thinking when she wrote blah-blah-blah. Patter is just a distraction—an apology. My advice: Memorize the poems you plan to read. Anything spoken by heart commands attention. Bring the poems with you, so you can consult them if need be—but really, the way to win an audience over is to get up there, say your poems in a loud, clear voice, face out. Then say thank-you and get off stage. You’ll kill. Read More
October 1, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Mind Nudging; Too Much Revision By Lorin Stein I liked your response on what to give the person who has read everything. But what about the person who, well, fancies herself an “intellectual” (she goes to book parties at least) but doesn’t read a damn thing! What will perk someone’s brain, give them a mind nudge? —R. It sounds as if you can give her pretty much anything at all! Why don’t you start with your favorite novel? Or maybe that’s too ambitious. Your favorite short story. Your favorite poem? See how she does. You don’t want to blow her circuits. Or—if she’s a chatterbox—why don’t you give her Alain Robbe-Grillet’s Jealousy. That’s a book you don’t hear enough about at book parties, in my opinion. Let’s put her talents to use! Read More
September 24, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Books for the Well-Read; Narratology By Lorin Stein My ex-boyfriend’s birthday is fast approaching. He’s not just any ex—he’s The Ex, the one responsible for approximately ninety percent of my current taste in books, film, and music. We’re still friends, and I want to buy him a book, but I’m stuck. What do you buy for the man who’s read everything, and introduced you to all the authors you love? —Joelle D. Come with a backup. My friend Jennifer and I tend to like the same books, but she has read much, much more than I have. So a few years ago, when I gave her Henry Green’s novel Loving, I kept stashed away (already wrapped up) J. R. Ackerley’s memoir My Father and Myself. She’d read both, as it turned out … but claimed that she had been “meaning to reread Ackerley for years.” It was such a nice lie. I hope your ex would say the same were he in her shoes. He sounds lucky to have you! Read More
September 17, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Smart and Bored; Big Pretzels of Wisdom By Lorin Stein Which books would you recommend to a smart, bored, somewhat alienated teenage girl trapped in the suburbs? —Alice The first recommendation that leaps to mind is Jean-Christophe Valtat’s novella 03—a book all about being a smart, bored, and extremely alienated teenager trapped in the suburbs. I love it. I hesitate to recommend it only because it is so peculiar. It’s written in long sentences, without paragraph breaks, and nothing happens in it. I’m not sure I’d have liked it when I was the protagonist’s age (sixteen). At that age, I remember loving Steppenwolf—even after my—smarter, more bored and alienated—friend Wawa told me it was trash. (I haven’t gone back to decide for myself.) I also remember loving The History of Luminous Motion, a novel you don’t hear much about these days but which held up very well last time I looked. At that age (your age?), I mainly loved books that held out the promise of a more glamorous, more real world. (Washington, D.C. wasn’t the suburbs, but it didn’t feel real.) Elif Batuman has written memorably about her first, teenage encounter with Anna Karenina: Think of the time it must have taken Tolstoy to write it! He hadn’t been ashamed to spend his time that way, rather than relaxing by playing Frisbee or attending a barbecue. Nobody in Anna Karenina was oppressed, as I was, by the tyranny of leisure. The leisure activities in Tolstoy’s novel—ice skating, balls, horse races—were beautiful, dignified, and meaningful in terms of plot. I remember reading Anna Karenina (in the smoking section of the Bagel Bakery across the street from school) and feeling the same way. Ditto Susan Sontag’s essay collection Against Interpretation. It implied a whole world of culture, and cultural events if you know what I mean. Screenings. After-parties. Midnight debates with women in mascara. I also liked The Counterfeiters because it depicted a world (1920s Paris) in which a brilliant teenager could become a celebrated writer without first waiting to grow up. I think I would have fallen in love with Two Girls, Fat and Thin if I’d known about it. But I probably also would have (secretly) loved The Secret History. I bet The Rachel Papers—Martin Amis’s first novel, about a kid trying to get into Oxford—is almost as funny as I remember. When I was sixteen it blew my mind. There is one other recommendation I hesitate to make—for very different (obvious) reasons. When I was fourteen I was given a copy of The Paris Review. I certainly liked reading those stories, poems, and interviews, but they also gave me a connection—my only connection, really—to a thriving literary scene. I like to think another fourteen-year old might feel the same way today. Read More
September 10, 2010 Ask The Paris Review Excuses, Excuses—and Invitations! By Lorin Stein Dear Readers of “Ask The Paris Review”: Several of you have written in to enquire after my health. I’m touched by your solicitude … and very sorry to have no advice for you this week. All of us here on White Street and at Tierra Innovation are scrambling to launch our fall issue and our new website. Stay tuned! In lieu of advice, I offer you a poem on the subject of having no advice—and an invitation: if you are in striking distance of New York, please join us tomorrow night at Fontana’s Bar when we unveil the fall issue. Advance copies will be for sale. Contributors will read and may be persuaded to sign copies. There is talk of a raffle. The celebrations will begin at 8 o’clock and continue until we drop. On Sunday we’ll be at the Brooklyn Book Festival, booth #23, next to the fountain. I hope to see you one place or the other! Lorin