{"id":2479,"date":"2010-07-14T11:11:42","date_gmt":"2010-07-14T15:11:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=2479"},"modified":"2013-01-09T15:58:35","modified_gmt":"2013-01-09T20:58:35","slug":"my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/","title":{"rendered":"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins"},"content":{"rendered":"

Part two of a four-part review. <\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"

Photograph by Stephanie Berger.<\/p><\/div>\n

11:05 A.M.<\/strong> The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the book, because he knows all this stuff he couldn\u2019t possibly know, and narrates in first-person plural (\u201cwe\u201d) from the perspective of the townspeople\u2014represented by a slight bearded Italian, who appears playing the piano. He explains that the little piece he is playing is called \u201cFranco-Prussian War,\u201d and that he and his friends use it to cover up the sound of their discussion about freethinking. He\u2019s a good actor and not bad at playing the piano.<\/p>\n

11:20 A.M.<\/strong> The exposition is taking forever. The poor narrator. He has to introduce so many characters! First he sets up the friendship between Stepan Trofimovich and Varvara Petrovna (the older characters). Then he has to introduce the circle of freethinkers. There are like eight of them. Then there is the young generation: Stepan Trofimovich\u2019s son, Pyotr, and Varvara Petrovna\u2019s son, Nikolai, and Varvara Petrovna\u2019s ward, Dasha, who is the sister of one of the freethinkers, and then Varvara Petrovna\u2019s friend\u2019s daughter, Liza. Liza and Nikolai and Dasha have been having a love triangle in Switzerland. <\/p>\n

11:30 A.M.<\/strong> It\u2019s interesting how important Switzerland is in the novel. You never actually see anything that happens there, but the characters talk about it. That works well in a play.<\/p>\n

11:32 A.M.<\/strong> The eight freethinkers are having a reunion at Stepan Trofimovich\u2019s house. They keep greeting each other by name, but it\u2019s impossible to tell them apart, especially since there is a time lag with the supertitles. <\/p>\n

11:37 A.M.<\/strong> When will these freethinkers stop reveling? And is the one with glasses Virginsky or Liputin? The narrator is playing an accordion. <\/p>\n

11:45 A.M.<\/strong> The one with glasses is Shigalyov. Nikolai comes in. He\u2019s just back from Switzerland. He\u2019s supposed to be this charismatic demonic diabolically handsome character with an empty soul, who ruins everyone\u2019s lives out of his spiritual emptiness. The actor is doing a good job of appearing empty, but that\u2019s it. He looks like a skinny Brad Pitt, complete with the strange beard. I do not find him charismatic.<\/p>\n

12:10 A.M.<\/strong> Varvara Petrovna is calling Dasha an idiot. \u201cCrrretina! Crrretina!\u201d she shouts. The seven-year-old girl in the audience is clinging to her mother\u2019s neck and whispering something in her ear, very intently. The LA Times<\/em> critic sighs and shifts his weight. I wince and try to scoot back in my chair, but collide with the knees of the person behind me (a man wearing shorts), probably causing him acute pain. I feel one with the awesome cycle of life.<\/p>\n

12:20 P.M.<\/strong> \u201cCaptain Lebyadkin whips his pretty, lame, retarded younger sister,\u201d someone remarks. Now that was an efficient sentence.<\/p>\n

12:30 P.M.<\/strong> Stepan Trofimovich doesn\u2019t want to marry Dasha, but the wedding is scheduled for Sunday. \u201cCouldn\u2019t there be a week with no Sunday? Couldn\u2019t God cancel Sunday, just once, to prove to an atheist that he exists?\u201d<\/p>\n

I think that was the first funny line. People have been laughing at every other line though. Whenever anyone mentions anything related to theater (like when Varvara Petrovna calls Stepan Trofimovich a \u201cbad actor\u201d), they chuckle knowingly. I find this annoying, even though I know it\u2019s really just a form of politeness. <\/p>\n

12:35 P.M.<\/strong> The first fifteen-minute break. I run into Patricia Marx, who writes about shopping for The New Yorker<\/em>. She is there for fun. I ask if she is having fun. She says she is trying to. Unfortunately there is a fat man sitting in front of her.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe problem isn\u2019t that he\u2019s fat,\u201d her companion objects, \u201cthe problem is that he has no sense of decorum.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is all I\u2019m going to remember,\u201d Patricia observes. \u201cPeople will ask me what the play was about, and I\u2019ll say it was about the fat man in front of me.\u201d There is a similar line in Anna Karenina when Levin goes to hear some program music to King Lear and gets stuck sitting behind a pillar.<\/p>\n

We rush to the bathrooms. We\u2019re still in line when the attendants come out yelling \u201cFive-minute call.\u201d I\u2019m starving and run from the bathroom to buy a banana. The banana has been sitting out in the sun and is pleasantly warm.<\/p>\n

1:06 P.M.<\/strong> J. and I are in a mutually reinforcing loop of yawning. We have each yawned three times in the past minute. Why isn\u2019t this exciting? The book is exciting, sort of. All the actors are competent and the script is exactly like the book, but I don\u2019t feel anything.<\/p>\n

1:10 P.M.<\/strong> Marya Timofeyevna, the pretty, retarded lame girl runs out like someone out of Fellini, with a huge red flower in her hair, shrieking and laughing hysterically. She\u2019s doing a great job looking like an actor playing a crazy person. Do crazy people ever act like that? I guess by now they do, because they must have seen the same movies I have.<\/p>\n

Marya is telling her fortune with cards: \u201cAlways the same thing\u2014a trip, an evil man, a deathbed!\u201d<\/p>\n

1:20 P.M.<\/strong> The Captain comes out and is trying to beat people with a belt. He is a foot shorter and one hundred pounds heavier than anyone else in the play, and looks like a totally different genre of human being. <\/p>\n

1:45 P.M.<\/strong> The Captain recites a poem about a cockroach drowning in a glass full of flies. This is all exactly like the book, but somehow the book feels demented, like a perversion of humanity, whereas this feels like going to a zoo and watching some animals doing their thing, like it\u2019s totally normal for them.<\/p>\n

2:05 P.M.<\/strong> Stepan Trofimovich and his son Pyotr are having a fight. Pyotr in the book is this incredibly sinister, sneaky, cynical manipulator, but in the play he comes across like some kind of realistic go-getter. He is way too appealing. He runs around like a puppy, literally clicks his heels. Stepan Trofimovich is annoying and full of bathos, but that\u2019s how he is in the book too. Although in the book he\u2019s funnier. <\/p>\n

2:10 P.M.<\/strong> We are herded to a tent for boxed sandwiches. I overhear someone say: \u201cI don\u2019t think David Rakoff is going to make it through another hour.\u201d I realize that I saw a guy who looked like David Rakoff, and he was probably David Rakoff. <\/p>\n

One sandwich consists of: \u201cPole-caught tuna, fennel, black olives, aioli, and lemon on baguette.\u201d We debate the meaning of \u201cPole-caught tuna.\u201d Maybe, as opposed to Serb-speared boar?<\/p>\n

Anne says she saw a better production of Demons<\/em> in Baltimore. But Amelia loves Italians, so she\u2019s having a good time. <\/p>\n

Patricia Marx thinks the little girl in the audience will be traumatized by her experiences today. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t want to meet her fifteen years later.\u201d<\/p>\n

3:13 P.M.<\/strong> The little girl and her mother have left. There are three empty seats in the row behind me. A Russian guy in the audience is complaining that he wishes he could watch the World Cup. \u201cThey should have a television,\u201d he says. \u201cA very small television.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Check back tomorrow for part 3: Back on planet Dostoevsky<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Missed the rest of Elif’s blind date with Dostoyevsky? Read part 1<\/a>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the book, because he knows all this stuff he couldn\u2019t possibly know, and narrates in first-person plural (\u201cwe\u201d) from the perspective of the townspeople\u2014represented by a slight bearded Italian, who appears playing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":31,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[419],"tags":[425,422,424,423,421,420,44],"class_list":["post-2479","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-culture","tag-drama","tag-fyodor-dostoyevsky","tag-governors-island","tag-lincoln-center-festival","tag-possessed","tag-the-demons","tag-theater"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nElif Batuman and The Demons at the Lincoln Center Festival, Part 2<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"July 14, 2010 \u2013 Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins by Elif Batuman\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"July 14, 2010 \u2013 Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"The Paris Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:publisher\" content=\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2010-07-14T15:11:42+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:modified_time\" content=\"2013-01-09T20:58:35+00:00\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:image\" content=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:width\" content=\"550\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:height\" content=\"366\" \/>\n\t<meta property=\"og:image:type\" content=\"image\/jpeg\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"Elif Batuman\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:creator\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:site\" content=\"@parisreview\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:label1\" content=\"Written by\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data1\" content=\"Elif Batuman\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:label2\" content=\"Est. reading time\" \/>\n\t<meta name=\"twitter:data2\" content=\"6 minutes\" \/>\n<script type=\"application\/ld+json\" class=\"yoast-schema-graph\">{\"@context\":\"https:\/\/schema.org\",\"@graph\":[{\"@type\":\"Article\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#article\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\"},\"author\":{\"name\":\"Elif Batuman\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/d0bd1c6499a43aed25cda32c2a8fbd07\"},\"headline\":\"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins\",\"datePublished\":\"2010-07-14T15:11:42+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2013-01-09T20:58:35+00:00\",\"mainEntityOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\"},\"wordCount\":1259,\"commentCount\":1,\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg\",\"keywords\":[\"drama\",\"Fyodor Dostoyevsky\",\"Governors Island\",\"Lincoln Center Festival\",\"Possessed\",\"The Demons\",\"theater\"],\"articleSection\":[\"Arts & Culture\"],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"CommentAction\",\"name\":\"Comment\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#respond\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"WebPage\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\",\"name\":\"Elif Batuman and The Demons at the Lincoln Center Festival, Part 2\",\"isPartOf\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\"},\"primaryImageOfPage\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage\"},\"thumbnailUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg\",\"datePublished\":\"2010-07-14T15:11:42+00:00\",\"dateModified\":\"2013-01-09T20:58:35+00:00\",\"description\":\"July 14, 2010 \u2013 Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the\",\"breadcrumb\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#breadcrumb\"},\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"ReadAction\",\"target\":[\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/\"]}]},{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg\",\"width\":550,\"height\":366,\"caption\":\"Photograph by Stephanie Berger.\"},{\"@type\":\"BreadcrumbList\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#breadcrumb\",\"itemListElement\":[{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":1,\"name\":\"Home\",\"item\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\"},{\"@type\":\"ListItem\",\"position\":2,\"name\":\"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins\"}]},{\"@type\":\"WebSite\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\",\"name\":\"The Paris Review\",\"description\":\"The best prose, interviews, poetry, and art. Since 1953.\",\"publisher\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\"},\"potentialAction\":[{\"@type\":\"SearchAction\",\"target\":{\"@type\":\"EntryPoint\",\"urlTemplate\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?s={search_term_string}\"},\"query-input\":{\"@type\":\"PropertyValueSpecification\",\"valueRequired\":true,\"valueName\":\"search_term_string\"}}],\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\"},{\"@type\":\"Organization\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization\",\"name\":\"The Paris Review\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/\",\"logo\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png\",\"width\":696,\"height\":696,\"caption\":\"The Paris Review\"},\"image\":{\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/\"},\"sameAs\":[\"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/\",\"https:\/\/x.com\/parisreview\",\"https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/parisreview\"]},{\"@type\":\"Person\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/d0bd1c6499a43aed25cda32c2a8fbd07\",\"name\":\"Elif Batuman\",\"image\":{\"@type\":\"ImageObject\",\"inLanguage\":\"en-US\",\"@id\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/22e61b2cea3fa5bcb7d9c9efe612f21fa06c4cc3b6d0d7e98c4fa5133ebb90ac?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"contentUrl\":\"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/22e61b2cea3fa5bcb7d9c9efe612f21fa06c4cc3b6d0d7e98c4fa5133ebb90ac?s=96&d=mm&r=g\",\"caption\":\"Elif Batuman\"},\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/ebatuman\/\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO Premium plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"Elif Batuman and The Demons at the Lincoln Center Festival, Part 2","description":"July 14, 2010 \u2013 Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins by Elif Batuman","og_description":"July 14, 2010 \u2013 Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the","og_url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/","og_site_name":"The Paris Review","article_publisher":"https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","article_published_time":"2010-07-14T15:11:42+00:00","article_modified_time":"2013-01-09T20:58:35+00:00","og_image":[{"width":550,"height":366,"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg","type":"image\/jpeg"}],"author":"Elif Batuman","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","twitter_creator":"@parisreview","twitter_site":"@parisreview","twitter_misc":{"Written by":"Elif Batuman","Est. reading time":"6 minutes"},"schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"Article","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#article","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/"},"author":{"name":"Elif Batuman","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/d0bd1c6499a43aed25cda32c2a8fbd07"},"headline":"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins","datePublished":"2010-07-14T15:11:42+00:00","dateModified":"2013-01-09T20:58:35+00:00","mainEntityOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/"},"wordCount":1259,"commentCount":1,"publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg","keywords":["drama","Fyodor Dostoyevsky","Governors Island","Lincoln Center Festival","Possessed","The Demons","theater"],"articleSection":["Arts & Culture"],"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"CommentAction","name":"Comment","target":["https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#respond"]}]},{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/","name":"Elif Batuman and The Demons at the Lincoln Center Festival, Part 2","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website"},"primaryImageOfPage":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage"},"thumbnailUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg","datePublished":"2010-07-14T15:11:42+00:00","dateModified":"2013-01-09T20:58:35+00:00","description":"July 14, 2010 \u2013 Part two of a four-part review. 11:05 A.M. The play starts. I\u2019m briefly excited. It\u2019s strange to see Dostoevsky\u2019s weird, garrulous narrator\u2014weird, in the","breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/"]}]},{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#primaryimage","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2010\/07\/DEMONS_BER33481.jpg","width":550,"height":366,"caption":"Photograph by Stephanie Berger."},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2010\/07\/14\/my-12-hour-blind-date-the-play-begins\/#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"My 12-Hour Blind Date: The Play Begins"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#website","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/","name":"The Paris Review","description":"The best prose, interviews, poetry, and art. Since 1953.","publisher":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization"},"potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Organization","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#organization","name":"The Paris Review","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/","logo":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/04\/tpr-hadada-roundell-logo-square.png","width":696,"height":696,"caption":"The Paris Review"},"image":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/logo\/image\/"},"sameAs":["https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/parisreview\/","https:\/\/x.com\/parisreview","https:\/\/www.instagram.com\/parisreview"]},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/d0bd1c6499a43aed25cda32c2a8fbd07","name":"Elif Batuman","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/22e61b2cea3fa5bcb7d9c9efe612f21fa06c4cc3b6d0d7e98c4fa5133ebb90ac?s=96&d=mm&r=g","contentUrl":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/22e61b2cea3fa5bcb7d9c9efe612f21fa06c4cc3b6d0d7e98c4fa5133ebb90ac?s=96&d=mm&r=g","caption":"Elif Batuman"},"url":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/author\/ebatuman\/"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2479","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/31"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2479"}],"version-history":[{"count":26,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2479\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":44637,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2479\/revisions\/44637"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2479"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2479"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2479"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}