If you want to get in touch with Fran Lebowitz , you’ll have to jump through a few hoops.

Even inquiring if the sharp-tongued writer and flaneur would entertain an interview required three intermediaries and instructions delivered over the phone: “Dial her number at 4 p.m. Talk to the answering machine, and she’ll screen your call.”

That’s because Lebowitz famously doesn’t have an email address — or a cellphone, a computer or Wi-Fi.

“I’ve always had an antipathy to machines. The extent to which it angers people is really surprising to me,” Lebowitz says. “People often say to me, ‘I can’t find you.’ So what? ‘I can’t reach you.’ So what? ”

On Dec. 12, Lebowitz, a patron saint of New York candor and Jewish sardonicism, will take the stage at Carnegie Hall to field audience question

See Full Page