If you are not someone who is perpetually on Twitter, like me, then you might not be up to date on the current discourse surrounding a 2017 New Yorker short fiction piece entitled Cat Person.
You may be asking why a story that was published four years ago is garnering so much attention in 2021 and that would be a valid question. It is because this week an essay response to that piece was published on Slate.
(If you’d like to do your own research before continuing this essay here is the original Cat Person piece in the New Yorker and here is the response piece that came out this week in Slate.)
But let’s go back to the beginning. Cat Person.
The short story, written by Kristen Roupenian, focused on the story of Margot, a 20-year-old college sophomore, who meets an older, 33-year-old Robert, at her part time job at art house movie theater. A flirtation that initially lives in the endless exchange of sweet and coquettish texts that command an immense pressure to remain witty and create elaborate back stories about Robert’s two cats; eventually leads to an awkward first date and lackluster sexual encounter. Unable to work up the courage to tell Robert she isn’t interested, days of avoidance and an abrupt response led to him proclaiming Margot a whore.
The story was released at the height of the Me-Too movement; it became an overnight viral sensation that led to numerous conversations about things like enthusiastic consent, gender roles, dating, and age gap dynamics. Eventually, Roupenian received a seven-figure book deal stemming from the response to the piece, and it is now slated to be adapted into a feature film starring Succession’s Nicholas Braun.
Now we are back in 2021 and you are thinking, “Ok great, but why are we talking about something that happened in 2017?” and the answer to that is that on Thursday, Slate published an essay originally entitled “I’ve Always Suspected ‘Cat Person’ Was Based on My Life, Now I Know It Was.” (The title has since been changed to “Cat Person & Me”). Written by Alexis Nowicki, the essay describes the moment when Cat Person was first published and having to deal with numerous friends and acquaintances reaching out to her asking if her or her ex-boyfriend Charles had written the piece under a pen name.
“Is this about you?” many asked.
While she prefaces that the larger plot points of the story like the uncomfortable, leaning towards aggressive, sexual encounter and Robert’s text calling Margot a whore, were not part of her narrative with her ex-boyfriend; she discusses how many of the smaller details of their relationship and even personal information (personality traits, physical description, etc.) were identical. Nowicki then goes on to detail a relationship that started when she was 18, with an older man, she called Charles (his name was changed to protect his identity).
Margot, the protagonist, was from the same Ann Arbor adjacent town, had lived in the dorms at the same college Nowicki had attended, worked at same art house theater that she had worked at, and also dated a man in his 30s. Even the description of Robert was eerily similar to Charles (tall, somewhat overweight, tattoo on his arm), the description of his home (the twinkle lights over the porch, the board game collection and posters), and even the location of their first date. Charles also had two cats, Mochi and Apricot.
She always thought it couldn’t be a coincidence that so many of the miniscule details of her story with Charles were so similar to that of Margot and Robert. It wasn’t until Charles’ death in late 2020 that she learned, from a friend of his, that she wasn’t entirely wrong, it wasn’t a coincidence, Charles knew Roupenian.
Charles “was always so upset that she brought you into it,” his friend told her.
Shocked, eventually, Nowicki contacted Roupenian, who responded that she had known about her as Charles’ former much younger girlfriend, but those basic facts were the extent of what she knew about Nowicki.
Nowicki’s piece has brought up the eternal question of how should writers acknowledge the people who act as inspiration for their stories? As to be expected with internet discourse there are a lot of strong opinions on either side. and again, as usual the issue’s morality probably lies somewhere in the grey scale of the middle. Today, we jump to assign events as good or bad without allowing a modicum of conversation to take place on the subject.
My gut reaction is that it is fiction, and all art is derived from some level of truth. Yes, some of the details are similar (and it would have been easy for Roupenian to change some of the more identifiable ones) however, that is what inspiration is, hearing a story and needing to answer the questions that arise. One reason I love to write is because I am someone who obsessively observes the world around her, understanding how and why people do anything is a point of fascination and writing is a way to process those thoughts and experiences.
Some people think if an author uses identifiable characteristics of a real person in their stories that they are walking dangerous tightrope between fiction and non fiction. But then where do we draw the line? How many coincidental characteristics make it so that you are identifiable as that character? Or what if it is based off a stranger or acquaintance, someone you only met briefly? It goes into the idea of how much ownership do we have over someone’s perception of us? Is there a line where, when crossed, you go from inspiration to plagirization?
Another part I found particularly interesting in the response piece is that the original Cat Person story clouds Nowicki’s memories of the real-life events. It makes her question what actually happened.
“We are all unreliable narrators. Sometimes, to my own disappointment, I find myself inclined to trust Roupenian over myself. Had Charles actually been pathetic and exploitative, and I simply hadn’t understood it because I, like Margot, was young and naïve? Had he become vengeful and possessive after we broke up, but I’d just blocked it out in order to move on with my life?”
I think my final take, which can apply to most things that transpire in the digital space (and likely the real word as well), is that people have a right to say and do things as they please (in this case write a story based off of someone they know and his ex-girlfriend) but you also then have no control over how your words or actions will be received (aka said ex-girlfriend is allowed to be hurt by the piece).
Ultimately, Cat Person was a decent short story that led to an interesting discourse, an even better response piece, and further interesting discourse. It isn’t good and it isn’t bad, it is just the human experience.
This is a Sally Rooney stan platform, so as I anxiously anticipate her new novel in September, I’ll have to be satiated by her new short story in the New Yorker.
I’m surprisingly unbothered that Samantha won’t be in the SATC reboot. I get why people are upset, but I still plan on watching.
The Cutting Room Floor’s episode “The Tanning of America feat. Leandra Medine" is a masterclass in interviewing and editing. It is also a prime example of how little many white women have learned in this past year, continuing to center themselves in the discussion around the Black experience in the United States. Also worth a read is The Cut’s response piece.
Further climate change.
More fucking climate change.
I too would like to see it.
Season 3 of Virgin River came out Friday. This show is the antithesis of everything I typically like but I can’t quit it. I think its predictability and cheesy soap opera qualities calm my anxiety.
As always if you have made it to this point I thank you for your determination and support. (Even if you didn’t make it to this point I thank you, you just won’t be aware of it).
If you want to support me further consider sharing my posts on social media or forwarding it to people you think might find it interesting.
See you next time,
Kelley