Fueling my Addiction with Foer and Keret

This is a bad time to pick up a pricey addiction. I'm about to invest in some new furniture, and although I've had some interviews that went pretty well, I'm still waiting to hear back from several schools about whether or not I'm going to have a job (and its accompanying paycheck) in the fall. But the habit I started forming at the Franzen/Lahiri reading looks like it may be here to stay.

I've been wanting to go to a performance at Symphony Space for ages. I've heard things recorded there on NPR, most notably their Selected Shorts programs, and loved them. Also, the theater is very close to where I live and I walk by it all the time. I got lucky when, the other day, I finally remembered that I'd been meaning to check the schedule and found that there was a reading of Jonathan Safran Foer's work (and some other guy I'd never heard of) scheduled for the following week. I bought one of the few remaining tickets to the show, and last night after my final tutoring appointment I went over to the theater.

 

It seemed that most of the patrons at Symphony Space were on the older side. (By this I mean that I was about the only one there with pigment left in my hair that was actually my own.) I knew this observation was accurate when I looked at the list of ticket prices and saw that you can get $10 off your ticket price if you are under the age of 30.

Etgar Keret

 After an introduction by Isaiah Sheffer, and portly man with wild white hair and thick glasses who used to serve as the artistic director of Symphony Space - now, I believe, he does only Selected Shorts - Etgar Keret took the stage. I thought I'd never heard of him, but as it turns out, I had; Jane recommended a podcast to me in which authors who have had fiction published in The New Yorker select a piece of fiction from the magazine's archives to read and discuss. A story I'd listened to just recently was one of Keret's, and I was pleased to make the connection because I really enjoyed the story. He is Israeli, and was wonderfully articulate, although his thick accent might make you think otherwise if you don't listen carefully. He's got several short story collections out, and after introducing both stories ("Suddenly, a Knock at the Door" and "Lieland"), he stepped aside so that two different actors could each read one. One of the actors, Josh Radnor, is a huge fan of Keret's, and he took the time to fly out from filming the very funny sitcom How I Met Your Mother to read one of the stories. The readings were outstanding, and Keret was very charming.

Here comes the addiction part: After the Keret readings there was an intermission, and I realized that my autographed Franzen novel must feel pretty lonely on my shelf. So I paid full market price for a collection of Keret's stories and a copy of Everything is Illuminated, my favorite of Foer's novels. Had I planned ahead and gone through Amazon, I'd have gotten a better deal, but I didn't think about it until I was sitting in the theater. Whoops.

Jonathan Safran Foer

Foer, Sheffer said almost helplessly after the intermission, has won too many awards to list. His two novels are the one I bought and a newer one called Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. He also wrote an investigative piece of non-fiction called Eating Animals, and because I'd heard an interview with him after its publication, his voice was familiar to me when he took the stage. He's a slightly built guy who looks much younger than he is and much, much younger than he sounds: There are authors out there who are more comfortable with a typewriter than they are with other people and who save their articulation for the page, but Foer is not one of them. He was wise, insightful, and far more humble than he had any business being. The first piece of his was a short story, a new one, called "The Thing Itself" read by Liev Schreiber, movie star, director, and Foer's close friend. It was outstanding. The second was the second chapter of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, titled "Why I'm Not Where You Are." Sheffer performed it, and it was beautiful and heartbreaking.

After the readings, both authors perched on high stools in front of microphones and talked. There was no mediator, no pre-fabricated questions, just a chat between two friends (they have known each other for years) who are wildly enthusiastic about each other's talent. I think this is the part that made the reading seem so superior to the Franzen/Lahiri reading. That conversation felt forced, but this one was fascinating.

Highlights:
-Foer said that Keret writes with "a singing ease," which I thought was a gorgeous phrase
-Keret said that he was inspired to write a short story after reading a recent piece Foer wrote. He said after 20 minutes at the computer he had pages of drivel and was reminded of the warnings that precede WWF matches: These acts are performed by professionals - do not try this at home.
-Foer talked about the impersonal way most people communicate and express themselves lately, citing Facebook as an example, a site that has a blue motif because its founder is colorblind. It was clear that "colorblind" was a metaphor, which lends a whole different layer of meaning to the observation.
-Both writers noted that major themes in the works that we heard, as well as in their work in general, is the struggle of the individual to make a connection with other people.
-Foer asked Keret about the seeming duplicitous nature of his work: His language and his storylines are deceptively simple, but the underlying themes are incredibly complex. It's very difficult to write that way, and so it was mildly infuriating to those of us who don't share Keret's incredible gift to watch him shrug and say that, for him, life is the hard part and writing is easy. Easy?? When Foer pressed him, Keret admitted that coming up with an idea was sometimes difficult, but the second he had one the story just sort of took off. He said that writing felt weightless for him.

After the discussion wrapped up, I joined a very long line of people to get my brand new books signed. Keret drew me a very nice picture, which I had to photograph and share (below). Foer, noticing that the book I'd purchased had a crease in the cover - something I saw the second I got back to my seat after it was too late to exchange it - rummaged around in a pile near the table and found a pristine copy for me, which he autographed and handed over.

Isn't this a riot? I peeked at the one Keret signed for the guy in front of me and it was a totally different picture. (For one thing, he did not get a heart-shaped smoke puff.)

"For Beth, with thanks." Aw.

I guess there are worse habits to have.