The unnamed narrator of Deborah Levy’s latest novel, My Year in Paris with Gertrude Stein, is trying—and failing—to write an essay about the enigmatic author, art collector, and high priestess of modernism. By the book’s end, a friend comforts her: “Gertrude Stein was a big presence, but I don’t think anyone can ever get to the bottom of it.” “It is funny when things bubble up like this,” Belden says of the revived interest in Stein and Toklas. Dutton has long admired Stein, though she was ultimately drawn by how Lin’s book “mimics the Stein formally, but also opens up important questions about homage and critique.” Indeed, one imagines ChatGPT would fail miserably if prompted to write in the style of Gertrude Stein.