Very fair. And I have to thank you for your courage, in admitting your fear of Reality. I may be acting like a bit of a rube here (I grew up in New Jersey), but was the Rubik's cube on your therapist's desk in Chapter 8 a metaphor for Reality? How about the empty guitar case, laid open, in the final chapter? Your mother's unopened box of Triscuits? Do you have a list of all the metaphors in APU? Might be easier just to send that to my assistant...

I don’t blame you for your misunderstanding. My metaphors can be very complex. Any careful reading will reveal that the Rubik’s cube is actually a symbol of my narrator’s confused sexual desire and the possibility of repressed homosexuality. Although none of his homosexual thoughts are ever put to the page, it’s very clear in the subtext. The empty guitar case is actually a callback to the closed guitar case in Chapter 6, in which my narrator visited his parent’s home and found his younger brother had begun to play guitar more skillfully than The Man had. I thought that was an important element to tie in, The Man’s little brother Robbie as an extension of himself; Robbie is the personification of who he was when he was younger, the hope and idealism he had at the time.

I would have to say that the two most important metaphors are The Man’s fountain pen which runs out of ink (a symbol for New York City) and New York City itself, which is a metaphor for The Man. The New York Times review completely misunderstood the premise of the book: it’s not an examination of the relationship between The Man and Eleanor, the girl he thinks he’s in love with. It’s an exploration of New York City.

Some critics—and this isn't to say I agree with them—have pointed out your disfiguring and omission of certain sections of New York. It's clear that you're writing of the city as a whole, and yet: besides a three paragraph chapter that takes place at a party in Astoria, Queens, a few blistering lines on Midtown Manhattan, and a larger chapter that takes place in lower Manhattan (an unnamed radio-themed bar in the Lower East Side, the lost flavors of the Bowery, Chinatown), the entirety of the book is set in Brooklyn. What about Manhattan, Queens, the Bronx and the other one? Is this some form of synecdoche? Explain your intentions.

I’m glad you brought up the lower Manhattan chapter- it’s actually one of the most important sections of the book and can be used to understand why so much of The Man’s story needed to be told in Brooklyn. That chapter was actually developed from a story I wrote in a workshop in the first year of my MFA program at Brown - originally titled "Listening to the Off-Key Humming of a Manhattan Melody."

A Perfunctory Understanding is a modern novel, nothing like it or in its style has ever been written before. Brooklyn is a place that captures that masculine, youthful energy of protagonist more intelligent and sensitive than those around him and struggling with the implications of that. The entire island of Manhattan, old-fashioned and feminine, serves as a metaphor for his mother. His final subway ride at the end of Chapter 14 is actually an extended birthing symbol: the subway tunnel is, in a sense, the birthing canal.

I think I'm beginning to understand the title—that is, internalize it. The understanding isn't of The Man, but in fact of Eleanor, serving as a proxy for everyone that judges The Man, as she doesn't take the time or effort to actually understand him. Am I close? Is it just me or was Eleanor maybe a bit too...unlikable?

That’s a very astute observation. The title absolutely refers to not only Eleanor’s perfunctory understand of The Man as a fully-formed human being, but the reader’s perfunctory understanding of him.

A lot of the women in my workshop had the same feelings towards Eleanor as you did but I have to disagree. Just because I didn’t give her a last name doesn’t mean that I didn’t put thought into her as a character. Eleanor is being filtered through the lens of The Man’s experience - she’s more or less an extension of him. Eleanor is also a symbol of the obstacles The Man must overcome in order to achieve self-actualization. Of course The Man is attracted to her, but that’s not the most important aspect of her identity. If I may quote her description from when the narrator first sees her in Chapter 2: “Eleanor was undeniably pretty, but a certain regularity of her features rendered her almost forgettable. Her green eyes were large and set nicely apart, but the slight clumping of mascara in her left eyelashes left him irreversibly aware of just how ordinary she was.”

And many of my female readers seem to forget that Eleanor IS NOT the only female character in the novel. There’s also the barista at Sleeper Car Coffee with the nose ring and rose tattoo and large breasts whom The Man later has a one-night stand with.

What a brilliant line to quote. To have even come up with those words: her eyes "were large and set nicely apart". You can definitely imagine Eleanor with two distinct eyes, the space in the middle for the nose. I'm sure many fans would love to hear this line and others come from your mouth, and yet—you've refused to do public readings. Why?

Like Thomas Pynchon, I shy away from the trappings of celebrity. To hear The Man’s journey through my voice limits the character’s ability to apply to every white 24-year old male who reads my book. I didn’t choose get into writing for the fame, the acclaim, or the admiration of college undergraduate; I didn’t choose to become a writer at all. The burden to tell stories is just that: a burden, and one that will torture me daily until my death unless I make the daily sacrifice of words at my typewriter.

I'm sorry. I understand bringing that up was akin to asking a man about his diseased leg. I'm a bit ashamed to have made you say that, and so I'll ask just one more question. What can we expect your sophomore effort? Have you already started writing? Have you shown it to anyone?

I’m already halfway through my first draft. It’s a novel about a 25-year old living in Bushwick and his string of one-night-stands with women in the publishing industry. I almost have to apologize for leaving you with such an intriguing premise (I’m sure you have a hundred questions) but I won’t be able to elaborate anymore. I can, however, offer you my working title: Boundless Afflictions.

What a delicious teaser! I'm sure it's drastically different from APU, as an artist like yourself is never content in stasis. Thanks for your time and words. It's been delightful.