Jerry Stahl: straight talk on books that matter
“Permanent Midnight” catapulted L.A. writer Jerry Stahl into the limelight in the late 1990s. Publishers Weekly called the memoir an “unabashedly lurid and often highly entertaining” account of his rise to highly paid prime-time TV writer and descent into heroin addiction. The book conquered bestseller lists, was heralded as an instant classic of addiction literature and was adapted into a movie starring Ben Stiller.
Stahl — now with a couple of decades of sobriety under his belt — has gone on to write nine other books, such as the novels “I, Fatty,” an imagining of the life of silent film star Fatty Arbuckle, and “Happy Mutant Baby Pills,” a satirical look at the pharmaceutical industry. But all his books showcase Stahl’s lacerating humor and his talent for staring straight down the tunnel of humanity’s darkest impulses.
Stahl, who was one of the featured authors on the most recent episode of Southern California News Group’s “Bookish” virtual literary program, hosted by Sandra Tsing Loh, explores dark material in his new memoir. “Nein, Nein, Nein!: One Man’s Tale of Depression, Psychic Torment, and a Bus Tour of the Holocaust” (out from Akashic) is a travelogue through hell, both an account of concentration camp tourism and a personal meditation on its meaning.
Each week, the free books newsletter The Book Pages, written and edited by Erik Pedersen, features interviews, essays and Q&A’s with writers about their favorite books and reading life. Here, Stahl answers The Book Pages’ Q&A about the writers and works that have influenced him both personally and professionally.
Q
Is there a book or book you like to recommend to other readers?
A
I am forever recommending the work of Flannery O’Connor. In particular, “A Good Man Is Hard To Find.” One of the funniest, darkest, truest evocations of humanity you’re likely to find.
Q
How do you choose what to read next?
A
It’s pretty random. I can pick something off a shelf — or the floor — or take a recommendation from somebody out there who still reads. As TV gets better, the ranks of book readers are, I fear, ever diminishing.
Q
Is there a book you’re nervous to read?
A
What can I say? Some of my own older books make me nervous. In the sense that, as I read, there’s a voice in my head screaming, “What the hell were you thinking?” There’s also that situation where you’re reading books by friends, and you so want them to be good. But that’s a different story … .
Q
Can you recall a book that you read and thought: That was written just for me. Or conversely, one you read that definitely wasn’t written for you?
A
“Requiem for a Dream,” by Hubert Selby Jr., spoke to me in a deep, and terrifying way, about addiction. I once came across a book in an airport once called “God’s Mittens.” I’m guessing it was not for me.
Q
What’s something you took away from a recent reading — a fact, a snatch of dialogue or something else?
A
There’s a tiny phrase in an old Stanley Elkin novel, “The Dick Gibson Show,” I just happened to read recently, where one character accuses another character of “making carnival with my pain.” I don’t know why, but that line, in its pathos, its ridiculous language, struck me as funny — and weirdly heartfelt. I was also dipping back into “Memoirs of an Amnesiac,” by Oscar Levant, and came across this: “I get plenty of exercise — once a week I stumble and fall into a coma.” That and “I knew Doris Day before she was a virgin.” What’s not to love?
Q
Which are some of your favorite book covers?
A
I am a big fan of faces, and the portrait of Charles Mingus on his memoir, “Beneath the Underdog,” is a haunting one. Same with “Deep in a Dream,” the Chet Baker bio, which features a front cover photo of Chet when he looked like a young god, and then, on the back cover, a portrait of Chet after a lifetime as a hopeto-die dope fiend: toothless, sucked up, with a look in his eye so hopeless you want to tear your own heart out and give it to him. But I think my alltime favorite covers are the old Grove Press edition of John Rechy’s “City of Night,” which features a lost soul late night-night black and white photo of downtown L.A. and, by way of art-art, Ralph Steadman’s inimitable illo on the cover of the first paperback edition of “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.” Perhaps it’s narcotic nostalgia, but I always love coming across it.
Q
Is there a genre or type of book you read the most — and what would like to read more of?
A
I’m a pretty eclectic reader. I’ll read fiction, nonfiction, memoirs, mysteries, you name it. I probably don’t read enough history — as I tend to get my history through historical fiction or documentaries. And I’ve yet to read a Harlequin romance. Though I don’t judge.
Q
Do you have a favorite book or books?
A
It’s a shifting roster. But I’d have to say “Gravity’s Rainbow” hangs in at No. 1.
Q
What books do you plan, or hope, to read next?
A
I’m about to read Joshua Cohen’s book, “The Netanyahus.” And I have just been given a copy of this new Mary Gaitskill collection, “The Devil’s Treasure: A Book of Stories and Dreams.” I am a huge fan of Mary’s, and this is a collection of fiction, nonfiction, collages, you name it. Can’t wait to crack it open.
Q
Is there a person who made an impact on your reading life — a teacher, a parent, a librarian or someone else?
A
My older sister’s boyfriend, when I was a kid. My father had just checked himself out. I was about 16, and he turned me on to a battery of books by the so-called black humorists: Bruce Jay Friedman, Stanley Elkin, Nabakov, Franz Kafka, Don Delillo, Ishmael Reed, William Burroughs, Flannery O’Connor, Nathanael West … I think these books saved my little drugaddled teenage life.
Q
What do you find the most appealing in a book: the plot, the language, the cover, a recommendation?
A
For me what matters is VOICE. Regardless of subject, if I love the sound of the person telling the story, I’m in. I can tell in the first paragraph or two. I’ll read a book about Inuit canning practices if I like the voice of the Inuit canner.
Q
What’s a memorable book experience — good or bad — you’re willing to share?
A
I was once scheduled for prostate surgery — there’s a conversation stopper — and the doctor was late getting off the golf course or something, and it kept being delayed. I was just sitting there in pre-op. Happily, I was in possession of Patricia Lockwood’s insane — and insanely smart and entertaining — book, “Priestdaddy.” If it can help you forget you’re about to have “the Roto-Rooter,” that’s a great book.