Douglas Stuart Reads "A Private View"
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
The New Yorker
4.3 β’ 2.3K Ratings
ποΈ 12 April 2026
β±οΈ 45 minutes
ποΈ Recording | iTunes | RSS
π§ΎοΈ Download transcript
Summary
Douglas Stuart reads his story βA Private View,β from the April 20, 2026, issue of the magazine. Stuart has published two novels, βShuggie Bain,β which won the Booker Prize in 2020, and βYoung Mungo,β released in 2022. His new novel, βJohn of John,β will be published in May.
Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choicesTranscript
Click on a timestamp to play from that location
| 0:00.0 | Amelia Island, Florida, invites you to breathe a little deeper and enjoy the luxury of letting go. |
| 0:06.9 | Discover the tranquil seaside getaway embraced by salt air, sunshine, and authentic southern charm. |
| 0:14.7 | Find your unwind at amelia Island.com. |
| 0:30.5 | Music This is Amelia Island.com. This is The Writer's Voice, new fiction from The New Yorker. |
| 0:34.3 | I'm Deborah Treesman, fiction editor at The New Yorker. |
| 0:37.4 | On this episode of The Writer's Voice, we'll hear Douglas Stewart read his story |
| 0:41.2 | A Private View from the April 20th, 2026 issue of the magazine. |
| 0:46.6 | Stewart has published two novels, Shuggy Bain, which won the Booker Prize in 2020, |
| 0:51.3 | and Young Mungo, which came out in 2022. |
| 0:54.3 | A new novel, John of John, will be published in May. |
| 0:58.1 | Now here's Douglas Stewart. |
| 1:04.6 | A Private View |
| 1:09.8 | None of the men looked up as my mother came down the museum's stairs. |
| 1:15.6 | I felt sorry for her. |
| 1:17.6 | I wished I could make them notice. |
| 1:19.6 | When she reached the middle landing, she paused, and I could tell she was resisting the urge to go back up |
| 1:25.6 | and give them a second chance to get a good look. I smiled as she began to descend the final set. She gave a little kick with each step so that her long coat parted and revealed a shapely leg. Jean wasn't wearing her glasses, which helped to spare her from disappointment. She couldn't see |
| 1:45.9 | that the men had ignored her, but I was certain she had felt it. She couldn't see me from this |
| 1:51.9 | distance either, but she didn't squint or search about. She simply arrived in the space, |
| 1:57.5 | knowing I would be there for her. I was always there for her. As she neared the bottom of |
| 2:03.5 | the stairs, she unbuttoned her coat. She was wearing her favourite dress, the knitted one with herons |
| 2:09.7 | embroidered on the front, their necks intertwined, and the moonlit sky behind them set with piettes and |
... |
Please login to see the full transcript.
Disclaimer: The podcast and artwork embedded on this page are from The New Yorker, and are the property of its owner and not affiliated with or endorsed by Tapesearch.
Generated transcripts are the property of The New Yorker and are distributed freely under the Fair Use doctrine. Transcripts generated by Tapesearch are not guaranteed to be accurate.
Copyright Β© Tapesearch 2026.

