“Writing and talking are very different,” Fran Lebowitz observed with signature curtness at a live event in Edinburgh in late June. For someone whose career rests on both, the statement appeared insightful. She elaborated, “The talking to me is effortless, so I do it. The writing is hard so I don’t.” This would explain why Lebowitz, who herself declares not to have written anything for over 40 years, now spends much of her time talking. Whether to Martin Scorsese in Netflix’s Pretend it’s a City or to live audiences across the world, Fran Lebowitz is now primarily a speaker.
Yet Lebowitz’s writing is still in demand. Last year, following the success of Pretend It’s A City, a new collection of her old essays was released, titled The Fran Lebowitz Reader (on the cover: the author standing in typically sardonic pose, wrapped in a long coat, cigarette smouldering at her side). As the essays it contains were written in the author’s twenties and thirties (she is now 71), the question of relevance presents itself. It is a question Lebowitz addresses in her preface, urging the reader (after pointing out the unseemliness of requiring timeliness of writer “when it is no longer even required of timeliness”) to consider the essays “art history in the making”.
Indeed, Lebowitz’s social criticism is, if anything, time-less. By centring the human element, her writing manages to remain accessible and insightful despite being linked to specific issues that are, for a reader in 2022, dated. Certain themes emerge in her older writing and contemporary speaking – from New York City to art and language. At the same time, there are marked differences, as one would expect forty years later. In both, one thing features above all others: opinions. Fran Lebowitz has many. This is her ultimate appeal – and the reason why she remains, as a personality more than mere writer or public speaker, fascinating, entertaining and relevant.
New York City – Metropolitan Life
One of the most enduring themes in Lebowitz’s life is New York City and her experiences of metropolitan life. One essay, taking the form of a manual for landlords, satirises the over-priced and under-maintained world of apartments in New York. One of the rules it expounds: “It is the solemn duty of every landlord to maintain an adequate supply of roaches.” In another essay, Lebowitz suggests New York City enter the Olympic games for a single event, The New York Decathlon, consisting of four disciplines: Press Agentry, Dry Cleaning and Laundering, Party-Going and Dog-Owning. Her subsequent description of each event targets the irritations involved in each task in daily life. Through Lebowitz’s acerbic gaze, one gets a sense of life in the metropolis, from its inconveniences to its unique quirks.
Social Criticism
Lebowitz is almost at her most insightful and original when it comes to observing society. Often adopting an exaggeratedly critical perspective, she sheds light on behaviours and attitudes that are universal. Frequently, misanthropy colours those takes. In the essay ‘People’, Lebowitz makes the assertion that “except in extremely rare instances people are pretty much like everyone else.” What follows are examples that, though exaggerated and often bordering on the absurd, ring true. Her “complete and unabridged” transcript of “the general conversation of the general public since time immemorial” is as concise as it is accurate. Amongst Lebowitz’s solutions to make conversation more interesting are the maxims “Spilling your guts is just exactly as charming as it sounds” and “Polite conversation is rarely either.” In keeping with this pithy and curt style, Fran Lebowitz has no time for fanfare, self-importance or pretentiousness. In fact, in her essays it often seems as if her driving purpose is to chip away at them, usually through the medium of maxims that are as true as they are witty. Two such declarations read: “Original thought is like original sin: both happened before you were born to people you could not possibly have met”, and “An interesting personality is, in an adult, insufferable. In a teenager it is frequently punishable by law.”
Politics
Since her essays and articles were originally published, Lebowitz has become more political. This is the big difference between her (largely apolitical) writing and (much more political) public speaking. On her speaking tour, politics took centre stage. As the event took place days after the Supreme Court overturned Roe v Wade, abortion was the very first question to arise, and remained a theme throughout the evening, interlocking with questions about the 2024 election and the current (woeful) state of American politics. On her own politics, Fran Lebowitz said “the country [has] moved so far to the right that I am now one inch from being an anarchist.”
One reason for her politicisation is anger. As she said, “There has never been an era where it has not been more correct to be angry.” On identifying the core problems in the US, Lebowitz’s take was less unique, but strikingly direct. Her analysis included statements like “The central issue is they [Republicans] are stupid.” Which was followed by the maxim “Nothing spreads faster than a bad idea.” However, at these political moments, Lebowitz’s lack of expertise was at its most glaring. Naturally, being in Edinburgh, the question of Scottish Independence was raised. In her response, Lebowitz acknowledged that she was no expert, having never been in Scotland before and having spent only ten hours there so far. After which she declared “But I think you should totally become independent.” A statement that went down well in the room, but came across as being based on little substance.
Language
Where Fran Lebowitz is at her most insightful (and entertaining) is when she turns to language. This is fitting – much of her humour in her writing and speaking comes from playing with words. Two of her best essays, a short piece on the word ‘Lady’ and the essay “A Few Words On A Few Words” that lays down how certain words should be used in public, are all about language and its uses. At the live event, when asked for her favourite new words or phrases, she answered immediately “I can’t think of any that I like” – before musing on the idiocy of “upscaling” and “wellness” (“it’s like extra health”). Her ability to craft entertaining and revealing witticisms off-the-cuff is impressive. Jargon is “horrible, artificial language masquerading as poetry.”
Through both her writing and speaking, one thing remains constant: Fran Lebowitz is always right. When asked by an audience member who she would like to see as a candidate for the Democrats in 2024, she replied without missing a beat “Well, I would like to see me.” This extends from the Presidential level right down to the small-scale of bringing up children. Yet Lebowitz is not without self-awareness. Her authoritative, uncompromising opinions often border on the absurd. Yet this is precisely where the wit of her writing lies. And it is through hyperbolic rule-making that her writing is at its most critical. On bringing up children, insights included “Ask your child what he wants for dinner only if he’s buying.”
Another frequent theme is Lebowitz’s hatred of work. The first essay in the collection, titled “My Day: An introduction of Sorts” reads “3:40 pm – I consider getting out of bed. I reject the notion as unduly vigorous.” Lebowitz’s lack (and dislike) of writing throughout her career is often pointed out. The question that always arises, usually posed with a not insignificant amount of awe and jealousy, is how, then, she has managed to earn a living. It is linked to another question: why has she become such an international sensation, without specific expertise, authority, or awards? How is she such a source of authority on the biggest issues of the day? Her lightning wit? Uncompromising opinions? Acerbic judgement? Yes to all. But the core of the answer, after reading The Fran Lebowitz Reader and witnessing her live becomes clear: that undefinable, incalculable yet undeniable trait we call charisma.
Words by Reuben Bharucha
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