“The Famous Torn and Restored Lit Cigarette Trick” by Elizabeth Gilbert
OK. I’m a bad person. I read this story because I recently streamed Eat Pray Love on Netflix (so embarrassed right now), and I was kind of in the mood to hate on something, so I figured a short story by Gilbert would fill that void. Ugh, forget being a bad person, I’m a bad Lady, because I should not suppose that just because Hollywood turned Gilbert’s story into some Julia Roberts I-need-a-man fest that Gilbert herself is worthy of knee-jerk scorn.
Anyway, it turns out that Gilbert’s story is pretty good. It’s about a magician, his former boss, and a missing white rabbit. Whenever I read about magicians, I think of Steven Millhauser, which does not do Gilbert’s story any favors. Millhauser is a master of misdirection (or maybe, as Gilbert writes, “It’s not about misdirections, Esther. It’s about direction.”), and you don’t even notice the improbable holes he leaves empty. But in Gilbert’s story, you notice the holes, and then you wonder about the holes, and it’s the memory of the holes that you’re left with, not Gilbert’s thrilling tale.
(Also from The Paris Review Book of People with Problems)
