God Bless You, Gertrude

You have only to open the Library of America’s sterling edition of Gertrude Stein’s “Writings, 1903-1932,” to find what you are looking for in terms of inspiration. She changed everything, and she can change your mind with a glance of her pen. To wit: Bored and disgusted with the natural hysteria that informs the American theatre or most of it? Turn to page 397 and read Stein’s version of a play: “Turkey and Bones and Eating and We Liked It,” in which a character named Felix and a letter. says: “I do not wish to reply to a telegram, not because I find it difficult to explain in it that I wished to see you. I did wish to see you.” No one has topped this in terms of emotional truth, or the American penchant to express sincerity–theatrically. As I was reading “Turkey” (has it ever been produced? I would love to record it), Miss Stein appeared on my I-Shuffle reading her portrait of the painter of Pablo Picasso. In that moment I knew Gertrude came to see me, and push me up the hill toward greater or realer self-expression, while leaning on metaphors.