The Fran Lebowitz Reader (14 page)

Some people talk to themselves. Some people sing to themselves. Is one group better than the other? Did not God create all people equal? Yes, God created all people equal. Only to some he gave the ability to make up their own words.

Perhaps one of the more noteworthy trends of our time is the occupation of buildings accompanied by the taking of hostages. The perpetrators of these deeds are generally motivated by political grievance, social injustice, and the deeply felt desire to see how they look on TV. They are a bold lot—reckless and driven—true champions of equal time.

Although repeatedly in the news, these events were more often than not ignored in artistic circles. This element was unconcerned and felt far removed from such occurrences, lacking as they were in visual impact. Their complacency was, however, rudely shattered by a series of incidents that stunned the art world with their daring use of local color and imposing command of space.

A small band of exiled Cubists took over the Great Rotunda in the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C.,
and threatened to set it on fire unless the entire city was broken down into its basic geometric forms. They took as hostages Three Musicians and announced to the media that unless their demands were met the violinist would be forced at gunpoint to, in the words of Braque X, the leader of the group, “fiddle while domes burned.”

Desperate to avoid such a tragedy, government officials conferred through the night, and on the following morning an Abstract Expressionist was sent in to negotiate a peaceful settlement. The Abstract Expressionist, a crafty fellow with a long history of pulling the wool over people’s eyes, seemed to be making some headway until Braque X accused him of having no perspective on the subject. This delayed the proceedings for hours but eventually the Abstract Expressionist, who had every reason to want the Cubists out of the picture, calmed Braque X by guaranteeing safe passage if he promised to give up his crazy scheme. Braque X, realizing that they had him up against the wall, accepted the offer and an assemblage of planes and angles transported the Cubists back to their rightful place in art history.

The police, however, were not satisfied with the outcome and the commanding officer, with a hard edge to his voice, declared in an interview, “My five-year-old daughter could do better than that.” This opinion captured the imagination of the public and a vigilante committee was quickly formed. Late that night the Abstract Expressionist was escorted by a firing squad out into the middle of a color field and splattered with bullets—another victim of shifting tastes.

A group of feminist artists known as Women Against took hostage a group of male representational painters and demanded to know why they depicted women as
having breasts. The men answered that they painted women with breasts because women had breasts, and accused the feminists of fear of framing. The women instantly saw the wisdom of this and apologized profusely, explaining that they were severely depressed because they were all having their Blue Period.

The good eye of the whole world was upon a small Italian town when a revolutionary terrorist organization known as the Bauhaus Bombers threatened to turn the Leaning Tower of Pisa into a machine for dying by blowing it up. Intent on avoiding clutter, the Bauhaus Bombers took no hostages but demanded instead that one purely decorative object be destroyed every hour on the hour until their goal was achieved. Just what this goal was, was not known, for they insisted upon secrecy unless proof could be shown that no other terrorist organization had designs on it. Fearing the loss of the historic building, officials acquiesced totally. Truckloads of bric-a-brac were brought into the town square. Under the direction of the Bombers, dozens and dozens of china figurines, clever wall hangings, and superfluous vases were sacrificed to the mysterious cause.

Time went on and still the terrorists refused to divulge their purpose. Daily the crowds grew more restive and the police, faced with the possibility of a riot, finally devised a plan of action. By dressing one of their number in rust-colored wide-wale corduroy and a black turtleneck sweater, they managed to infiltrate the organization. In due time intelligence reached them that the arsenal they had envisioned was instead one mere bomb of exceedingly meager proportions. Astonished that the Bombers would equip themselves so minimally, they questioned their agent as to the reason for this
folly. Having spent a good deal of time in the tower he simply looked at them coolly and remarked, “Less is more.”

Much relieved, the police entered the building and easily overcame their adversaries. Once in custody the Bauhaus Bombers spoke freely, maintaining passionately that their cause was just. All they wanted, they said, was for the Leaning Tower of Pisa to be straightened out. Asked why such extreme measures had been taken, they shouted, “Never again!” They then leveled their final and unarguable charge against the sinking edifice: that the Leaning Tower of Pisa was and continues to be blatantly anti-symmetric.

A small but incongruous group of the followers of Dada known as MOMA all dressed in pants and went to the outskirts of Chicago. They then sent a message to the President of the United States demanding a more amusing juxtaposition of laws. Before the President could respond, a well-known consumer advocate charged the members of MOMA with lining a teacup with the pelt of an endangered species. The Dadaists were brought before a Senate subcommittee and forced to accept the terms of an agreement that would compel them in the future to use fun fur or none at all. The members of MOMA bridled at this restriction, as synthetic fabrics had already taken their toll by rendering an iron with nails in it far less witty than was originally thought. Looking back in retrospect, the Senate strictures were a blessing in disguise, enabling the Dadaists to realize that they had invented a form that lent itself to museums—which thereby lifted their spirits and gave them all a good laugh.

A frightening number of conceptual artists (two) occupied space in downtown Manhattan and, when no one noticed, were obliged to go uptown. There they arranged some rocks in a pattern that announced that they were holding hostage one hundred and sixty-eight videotape cassettes. They demanded that people imagine that this was of any interest. When no response was forthcoming they congratulated themselves heartily on their success and repeated the action endlessly.

Owing to the conditions that currently prevail in the world of letters, it is now possible for a girl to be ruined by a book. Owing, in fact, to the conditions that currently prevail in the world of letters, it is now possible for a boy to be ruined by a book.

A book, of course, is not the only danger, for things have come to such a pass that a magazine is safer than a book only to the extent that it is shorter. But magazines all too frequently lead to books and should be regarded by the prudent as the heavy petting of literature.

This warning should be heeded by all concerned, and in order to bring about a less perilous printed environment, I offer the following tips on how to avoid the reading and/or writing of ruinous material.

Enroll in medical school and specialize in gynecology. It will not be long before disenchantment sets in and
you realize that the literary possibilities of the vulva have been somewhat overestimated.

*   *   *

Women who insist upon having the same options as men would do well to consider the option of being the strong, silent type.

*   *   *

Having been unpopular in high school is not just cause for book publication.

*   *   *

Having been popular in high school should have been enough. Do not share this experience with the reading public.

*   *   *

If your sexual fantasies were truly of interest to others, they would no longer be fantasies.

*   *   *

As an aficionado of literature it might interest you to know that, in all of Shakespeare, the word
assertive
appears not a single time.

*   *   *

Keep in mind that there are still certain subjects that are unsuitable at the table, and that a great many people read while eating.

If you are of the opinion that the contemplation of suicide is sufficient evidence of a poetic nature, do not forget that actions speak louder than words.

*   *   *

Generally speaking, it is inhumane to detain a fleeting insight.

*   *   *

The free lunch was originated by saloonkeepers during the Depression. Free verse also often originates during
depression. If this happens to you, try to nip it in the bud by taking a drink.

*   *   *

If, while watching the sun set on a used-car lot in Los Angeles, you are struck by the parallels between this image and the inevitable fate of humanity, do not, under any circumstances, write it down.

Being a woman is of special interest only to aspiring male transsexuals. To actual women, it is simply a good excuse not to play football.

*   *   *

Special-interest publications should realize that if they are attracting enough advertising and readers to make a profit, the interest is not so special.

*   *   *

The exchange of information concerning the whereabouts of the best down comforter or chicken tandoori in New York should, I guess, be permitted between consenting adults in private so long as the young and the literate are left unmolested.

*   *   *

Sexual congress with heavy machinery is not a special interest. It is a personality defect.

There is no such word as
actualize.
There is no such word as
internalize.
There is, in fact, but one instance where the letters
ize
are appropriate here and that is in the word
fertilize.

*   *   *

Mental health is rarely, if ever, achieved by reliving your birth in a bathtub.

*   *   *

If you want to get ahead in this world, get a lawyer—not a book.

*   *   *

Wealth and power are much more likely to be the result of breeding than they are of reading.

*   *   *

While it may occasionally occur that one’s character shows in one’s face, this is nothing to count on, for one’s face will show in one’s character long before that possibility has had a chance to arise.

Contrary to what many of you might imagine, a career in letters is not without its drawbacks—chief among them the unpleasant fact that one is frequently called upon to actually sit down and write. This demand is peculiar to the profession and, as such, galling, for it is a constant reminder to the writer that he is not now, nor will he ever really be, like other men. For the requirements of the trade are so unattractive, so not fair, and so foreign to regular people that the writer is to the real world what Esperanto is to the language world—funny, maybe, but not
that
funny. This being the case, I feel the time has come for all concerned to accept the writer’s differences as inherent and acknowledge once and for all that in the land of the blind the one-eyed man is a writer and he’s not too thrilled about it.

Thus I offer the following with the hope that it will bring about much-needed compassion. Points 1 through 5 are for parents—the later explication for masochists. Or vice versa.

Your child is a writer if one or more of the following statements are applicable. Truthfulness is advised—no amount of fudging will alter the grim reality.

1. Prenatal
   

   A.
   You have morning sickness at night because the fetus finds it too distracting to work during the day.
   

   B.
   You develop a craving for answering services and typists.
   

   C.
   When your obstetrician applies his stethoscope to your abdomen he hears excuses.
   

2. Birth
   

   A.
   The baby is at least three weeks late because he had a lot of trouble with the ending.
   

   B.
   You are in labor for twenty-seven hours because the baby left everything until the last minute and spent an inordinate amount of time trying to grow his toes in a more interesting order.
   

   C.
   When the doctor spanks the baby the baby is not at all surprised.
   

   D.
   It is definitely a single birth because the baby has dismissed being twins as too obvious.
   

3. Infancy
   

   A.
   The baby refuses both breast and bottle, preferring instead Perrier with a twist in preparation for giving up drinking.
   

   B.
   The baby sleeps through the night almost immediately. Also through the day.
   

   C.
   The baby’s first words, uttered at the age of four days, are “Next week.”
   

   D.
   The baby uses teething as an excuse not to learn to gurgle.
   

   E.
   The baby sucks his forefinger out of a firm conviction that the thumb’s been done to death.
   

4. Toddlerhood
   

   A.
   He rejects teddy bears as derivative.
   

   B.
   He arranges his alphabet blocks so as to spell out derisive puns on the names of others.
   

   C.
   When he is lonely he does not ask his mother for a baby brother or sister but rather for a protégé.
   

   D.
   When he reaches the age of three he considers himself a trilogy.
   

   E.
   His mother is afraid to remove his crayoned handiwork from the living room walls lest she be accused of excessive editing.
   

   F.
   When he is read his bedtime story he makes sarcastic remarks about style.
   

5. 5. Childhood
   

   A.
   At age seven he begins to think about changing his name. Also his sex.
   

   B.
   He balks at going to summer camp because he is aware that there may be children there who have never heard of him.
   

   C.
   He tells his teachers that he didn’t do his homework because he was blocked.
   

   D.
   He refuses to learn how to write a Friendly Letter because he knows he never will.
   

   E.
   With an eye to a possible movie deal, he insists upon changing the title of his composition “What I Did on My Summer Vacation” to the far snappier “Vacation.”
   

   F.
   He is thoroughly hypochondriac and is convinced that his chicken pox is really leprosy.
   

   G.
   On Halloween he goes out trick-or-treating dressed as Harold Acton.