His novel,Who Killed My Father,is now on stage in Dumbo.
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Sometimes I dont even want to label myself as a novelist.
I think it has such a cheesy aspect to it old-fashioned, he tells me.
I love the idea of being … anexperimental fighter.
I had no friends.
They dont talk about class.
They dont talk about poverty.
Its always on a very superficial level.
But some of his polemic gets lost in translation.
(Side note: Louiss father, while not in very good health, is very much alive.)
After that: another book about his father.
In talking about my father, Im saying things that he would never say.
I think sometimes the border between taking someones speech and giving someone speech is an illusion.
A sentiment that probably explains why Louis has sometimes been compared to J.D.
Vance, of course, is running for the Senate, backed by Peter Thiel.
It makes people talk about themselves, he says.
(Louis was born Eddy Bellegueule.)
But what about the consequential homewrecking?
I always thought that the fight for social class or the fight against racism or homophobia was more important.
(For the record, he was not a comic book kid.)
My eternal frustration is: Why dont people go demonstrate after the play?
Louis asks me, which, for a second, I interpret as a joke.
My frustration is when people go out of my show, and they are not radical left-wing people.
Mostly, of course, they probably just went out for a late dinner.
Now, back to us silly Americans.
Its a difference of cleverness.
The more left you are, the more clever you are.
The more right you are, the more stupid you are.
Its not an opinion.
Who Killed My Fatheris atSt.
Anns Warehousethrough June 5.
