July 8-14, 2004

art

Penn Jillette

by Interview by Gary M. Kramer

Penn Jillette, the verbal half of the duo Penn and Teller, has just published his first novel, Sock (St. Martin's Press, 208 pp., $12.95), a detective story told from the point of view of the hero's beloved sock monkey, Dickie. On the phone from Las Vegas, the prestidigitator chatted about sex, death and his sock monkey.

City Paper: What did Teller say about your book?

Penn Jillette: You're going to find out in an incredibly weird decision. The New York Times Book Review asked Teller to review it. Either I get a good review from the Times or there will be a gun malfunction on stage.

CP: Sock suggests asking strangers the following questions, so I'll pose them to you. What music is in your CD player right now?

PJ: André Bush's Start From Silence.

CP: How much do you make a year?

PJ: More than I ever thought possible.

CP: Are you married?

PJ: No. I have a very steady girlfriend.

CP: What do you do for a living?

PJ: The Penn and Teller Show.

CP: Sock also uses The Proust Questionnaire as a major plot point. Let's try these questions:

PJ: How would you like to die?

SLOWLY AND IN A LOT OF PAIN TO PROVE I WON'T CRY OUT TO GOD!

CP: What is your greatest achievement?

PJ: Having an artistic partnership for 30 years.

CP: What?! Not writing this book?

PJ: That remains to be seen.

CP: What is your greatest regret?

PJ: I don't really have them. I'm not a regret kind of guy. That's not the way I think about life.

CP: On what occasion do you lie?

PJ: I try to only lie when I am paid to lie, and people know that I am lying.

CP: What is your educational background?

PJ: I finished high school on a plea bargain. I didn't actually finish, but my SATs were so high, I made a deal with the principal that he graduate me.

CP: How does writing a novel differ from writing as a performer?

PJ: I found that, for 30 years, I've been writing first-person stuff. I never really tried to write in a character other than myself. Once I had a hold of the stream-of-consciousness of this monkey, it was a really easy groove to get into. In some ways, Sock is like the rough draft of everything I write. It was letting myself go — to the way I really think. My voice is less self-conscious. It is not how I found this voice but I lost the other one.

CP: There are many insights and stories in Sock that are unforgettable. Where did you come up with these observations on life and learn these tales?

PJ: A lot of these are the pet things that I think about all the time. They are really such a part of me. I didn't say, "I want to find something interesting to say." The great liberating thing about this book is that all the stories that I don't dare tell … I can make the bad parts better.

CP: You play with sexuality quite freely in Sock. You managed to give a blowjob meaning, and make necrophilia hip again. Why are sex and death so fascinating to you?

PJ: To me sex is the thing you can't get a hold of. You can't control what gets your dick hard. For someone like me who compartmentalizes, I just love the fact that sex is so random. Death, I don't think that's a preoccupation. I'm not really a death-trippy kind of guy.

CP: There are music cues at the end of almost every paragraph in Sock. What did you intend as the purpose of that?

PJ: I think a lot of people are like this — they have a little snippet of a lyric in their head. I have "Hot Rod Lincoln" in my head, for those who care. I thought some people will get a lot of these. If the book gets successful, I might go on the Web and put it in context.

CP: You tell the story from Dickie the sock monkey's point of view? Do you own a sock monkey?

PJ: Yes, I have him. He is in my office and is looking at me right now. When I started writing the book, I wrote to my sister and asked her to send me out my sock monkey. She said, "I don't know if you ever touched [this particular one]. We replaced them all the time!"

Penn Jillette will read and discuss Sock, Thu., July 8, 6 p.m., at the Blauvelt Theatre, Friends Select School, 17th Street and the Parkway, 215-563-4184.