“What do you want to be when you grow up?” ” I’d like to be Fran Lebowitz!”

Tempo di lettura: 8 minuti

“The opposite of talking isn’t listening. The opposite of talking is waiting”
-Fran Lebowitz, Social Studies-

I still wonder about it today: “When I grow up” imposes looking far ahead, feeling that we have a lot to do along the way, implies a road to travel, a world to discover; it is tomorrow, it is the future that is built through choices in the present, curiosity about what we might find along the way. As long as I ask myself what I want to be when I grow up, I will feel safe! Above all, knowing that Fran Lebowitz, as long as she lives, will always have something to say, I will feel safe from that world full of small, big, untouchable contradictions. Sometimes I feel I am rather misanthropic, but in good company.

Sarcastic, glacial, genial, insufferable, authoritative, careless of what others think of her comments, able to have the quick answer on any topic: these are some of Fran Lebowitz’s defining traits, which make her the queen of Public Speaking, those public talks from which Martin Scorsese produced two highly successful documentaries (Public Speaking and Pretend it’s a City) , motivated by his friendship and esteem for her who, from a young age, has shown herself to be a keen observer of society, who does not prepare her speeches before delivering them, who loves speaking more than writing. She does not like to work, and admits that earning a living doing what she enjoys, which is speaking, is a real blessing.

Frances Anne Lebowitz was born in New Jersey in 1950, from Jewish parents: her father was a merchant, her mother a housewife. Fran always very much loved reading, little studying. She always characterized herself by being rather spontaneous, especially in school, a skill that was not exactly appreciated. In fact, by the age of 7 she had declared that she did not believe in God and was an atheist, and at 17 she was expelled from high school for being considered too irreverent.
She decided to leave New Jersey, and moved to New York City with a few hundred dollars in her pocket, which seemed like a fortune to her. Her ambition was to become a writer, but she soon realized that even what her family found annoying and called ” gab” was recognized as ” the art of oratory”. She was surprised to receive appreciation and compliments for that characteristic that had always caused her problems. In New York everyone used to talk about everything, it was mostly men who did it; Fran Lebowitz was lucky enough not to let her self-esteem be shaken by criticism of what had gotten her expelled from school and criticized by her family, but which became the characteristic trait that to this day makes her one of the most important icons in the United States, a reference point for social studies, a sociologist without having earned a degree, a talk show host and careful political commentator, an enemy of the Republicans. All because of that ” gab”: it reminds me of something, it’s a term I’ve hated since childhood, and I can’t stand it being used to interrupt my granddaughter when she talks about herself or something else. Right there, it should be forbidden to use this disqualifying term, which only conveys a “hey, you’re just taking away the speech of some adult who has important things to say!”
And yet, especially since children usually turn to adults who have chosen to bring them into the world or who have brought their parents into the world, it would be good to listen to them to stop for a moment and get out of the confusion of the mental wanking that grips their lives.
“Children do not sit next to you at the restaurant just to discuss aloud their unreasonable hopes for the future.”
That’s just one of Fran’s statements about having children, talking about the pros and cons that should be considered before choosing to bring them into the world.
During her early years in New York, she did a variety of jobs only to maintain herself and to be able to engage in writing: she worked as a housekeeper, a saleswoman, an erotic short story writer, and a taxidriver.

When someone asks her when she found out she was a lesbian, she says she did not know exactly, because she grew up in a time when it was something that was not mentioned, and when being homosexual was illegal but everything seemed to be more focused on gay men rather than lesbians. She was aware that her parents knew about it, especially because she was dating girls that she also brought into the house, but the topic was never addressed directly; it would have been embarrassing first of all for her family.
It was always thanks to the spirit of self-preservation that in New York, she had friendships – Charles Mingus, Lou Reed, Duke Ellington – that allowed her to begin attendingStudio 54 and Andy Warhol’s Factory. She wrote for an underground magazine specifically because of what would later become Charles Mingus’s wife, Susan Graham Ungaro.
One of the episodes that best describes her irreverent personality is the first meeting she had with Andy Warhol. He went to the Factory, in 1970, to apply as a columnist for the famous Interview Magazine: there was a door that said “knock hard and say your name.” So she knocked, and when Warhol asked just who she was, she answered “Valerie Solanas”-that is, the woman who had shot Warhol in 1968 at the entrance to the Factory-and then he opened the door for her. It took a lot of courage and sarcasm, as Warhol miraculously survived Solanas’ attack, but she herself claims that was a day when she was feeling particularly ironic!
For Interview Magazine she edited two columns, “The Best of The Worst”-which dealt with bad movies-and “I Cover The Waterfront” about life in New York.
She always stated that she did not feel too much sympathy for Warhol and that this feeling was mutual, but Interview Magazine represented what allowed her to get to know people who were artists/writers, intellectuals, musicians. In those years was born the deep friendship with Toni Morrison,, which saw them connected for life, until Toni’s death, who used to say of her, “She’s always right, because she’s never impartial”. Love.

She has always said that rather than reading newspapers, she prefers to sit in a club by herself and listen to people commenting on the news.Observing these dynamics, we can easily see that people are not interested in the news in general, but in gossip, that is, what in the news is talking about them. And they comment on that kind of news.
To do this exercise, just look at the news that has the most views and comments on social media, but it is not the same thing, life is out of there.

Dealing with the issue of hyperconnection, Fran brings up anecdotes and comments in which it is impossible not to recognize our lives or parts of them, and not stop to reflect on how much of what is happening around us we are missing.

“It’s an amazing thing because there are millions of people [in New York], and the only person looking where they are going is me.”

You can also understand why she does not own a smartphone or a pc: she writes using a pencil and a notebook. This also makes me and my pencils feel less lonely.
Just the fact that she can answer a simple question by opening at least one more window for reasoning and stimulating thought, gives her in my eyes the license to be able to talk about anything in the world, no matter that I agree with what she says-it is the way she does it that makes her irresistible! Then again, she doesn’t express her opinions for the purpose of representing anyone or a specific movement herself.
The hatred that has often been spewed at her after dealing with sensitive issues such as the one untied to teenagers-she admits to receiving rather poisonous letters-is nothing more than an expression of people’s discomfort at hearing about themselves, perhaps because they see a reality represented that they do not want to admit. After all, this is also what drives hate speech.

“I don’t like animals. Of any kind. I don’t even like the idea of animals. Animals are not my friends. They are not welcome in my home. They don’t find a place in my heart. They are not on my list.”

Using this approach, Fran addresses the issue of pets, and I, as an animal lover who lives with a dog she sleeps with, who follows documentaries about animals to find peace and comfort, feel called out because she describes most of the things I do. She does so with sarcasm, and also with a good deal of irritation, but I am not so egocentric as to think that she resents me or that I, Lilith, inspired her thinking: if anything, I recognize myself in an attitude that is socially widespread, and as such an object of observation. I do not share her thinking on this issue, but it is hers. She believes she is right, I do too. It’s not like she’s a politician who is presenting an election program that includes a ban on keeping pets! I reserve concern for opinions that have the aspiration to become facts for the cheap cabaret shows that election campaigns have become, especially now in Italy.

“In spite of what many of you might imagine, a literary career is not without its drawbacks; first and foremost the unpleasant matter that, often, one is really called upon to sit down and and write. This is a typical requirement of the profession and is, as such, rather harassing, since it constantly reminds the writer that he or she is not, nor will ever be, like other people.”

On writing Fran Lebowitz constantly interjects, admitting that she is a non-writer because she is a lazy person and writing requires effort. She does not like doing difficult things, and writing is one of them. She declares that she has suffered from writer’s block since 1981, after she began writing a novel that, indeed, would remain unfinished to today. But she is a great reader, owning thousands of books. Over the years she has learned not to read necessarily, that is, not to complete books that do not hold her attention. She would never throw a book away, rather she would throw someone out the window. I can well understand that.
As I write, I follow a conversation between Fran Lebowitz and Bryan Viners, and I wish long life to this remarkable woman, who has been keeping me company and making me feel not less of a bitch, but a bitch in good companionship.
Most of her writings were collected in “Metropolitan Life” (1978) and “Social Studies” (1981), both of which were channeled into “The Fran Lebowitz Reader”. Her writer’s block was paused in only one instance: in 1994 a story for children ages 7 to 12, “Mr. Chas e Lisa Sue Meet the Pandas” written by her and illustrated by Alfred A. Knopf, was published.