Rating: 
Summary: A Link To The Past
Review: David Markson is one of the most well read and literary people I know. Conrad Aiken, Malcolm Lowry, William Gaddis, and Frederick Exley were among his friends. He is the author of Wittgenstein's Mistress, which Ann Beattie has called "An absolute masterpiece." He is also the author of Springer's Progress and Reader's Block. He has lived in Greenwich Village for almost fifty years.Markson was a big reader of literary allusions and quotations. When he first read Under The Volcano, he wrote a fan letter to Malcolm Lowry. They met in Canada a while letter. Markson went on a personal crusade to draw attention to Lowry's work: "Which is why I wrote a master's thesis (at Columbia) on Lowry's Under The Volcano only four years after it was published, for instance, when nobody else had written anything except the original reviews, and so I had the allusions all to myself to dig out." Markson was also the first person to give William Gaddis' The Recognitions its high rank also. He called it the most important American novel since Moby Dick? "Actually it was just a throwaway passage in an old detective novel I wrote," Markson confesses, "but there too it was only three years after Gaddis had published. I'm delighted, or even honored, when I'm still given credit for it. Although he would give his right arm to have written The Recognitions, Markson is looks down at Gaddis' later work: "That business of the nonstop conversation, with all the repetitions and digressions and so forth that are supposed to be precisely like real life--except that art is selectivity, damn it. I read an interview where he talked about authorial absense, but what happens instead is that what he hopes will sound natural simply sounds faked. It's a gimmick, and it ultimately makes us infinitely more conscious of the writer than we'd ever be otherwise." Markson has little interest in current fiction, although he occasionally reads it. His all-time list would include Moby Dick, Wuthering Heights, The Stranger, early Celine, The Sot-Weed Factor, Nightwood, The Ginger Man, early Beckett. He thought very little of Thomas Pynchon. "I've got an odd bias against him. I've always believed that it's a serious reader's responsibility to pick up on virtually any valid literary allusion--even though a shrewd novelist tries to bury such things too, of course, so that the context makes sense even if the resonances are missed." Markson did read Infinite Jest when it came out, but would make no comment. He remarked "Most of your enthusiasm is for the major stuff just before your own time. But deep down I know, know, that there are books out there just as good as Under The Volcano or The Recognitions--and it's my own damned loss that I've misread them."
Rating:
Summary: Vanishing Point
Review: David Markson's latest book, Vanishing Point, is unlike any novel I've ever read. Like Markson's other works, it is avante-garde, experimental and highly original. It has no narrative or plot to speak of, yet conveys its theme in a remarkably engaging fashion. The novel begins by telling us that "Author has finally started to put his notes into manuscript form," that he has been scribbling notes onto 3x5 index cards and that the cards now fill two shoeboxes. With that, the novel launches into nearly 200 pages of the scribblings and notes themselves. The notes are a seemingly random reiteration of trivia and musings concerning art, literature, history, science and civilization. Sometimes the notes contain anecdotes or facts; at other times the notes consist of little more than a name or phrase. Gradually, we learn that Author is elderly, enervated and without motivation to do much more than rearrange the order of the cards. Here and there, we learn what Author has in mind --"a novel of intellectual reference and allusion...minus much of the novel." A sense of order begins to appear and the theme emerges that everything is sliding toward death. This novel is never boring and, despite its formlessness, is actually quite difficult to put down. There is an almost addictive quality to the notes. Markson's protagonists are often isolated and almost hermetically sealed off from social contact and relationships. Yet these characters have genuine insight into the human condition and express humanist feelings. The protagonist in this novel is no exception. By the book's end, I found myself laughing with and shedding a tear over a sparsely-developed, unnamed character whose inner life I was only allowed to glimpse through a collection of jotted notes. In that sense, Vanishing Point is an amazing work.
Rating:
Summary: Vanishing Point
Review: David Markson's latest book, Vanishing Point, is unlike any novel I've ever read. Like Markson's other works, it is avante-garde, experimental and highly original. It has no narrative or plot to speak of, yet conveys its theme in a remarkably engaging fashion. The novel begins by telling us that "Author has finally started to put his notes into manuscript form," that he has been scribbling notes onto 3x5 index cards and that the cards now fill two shoeboxes. With that, the novel launches into nearly 200 pages of the scribblings and notes themselves. The notes are a seemingly random reiteration of trivia and musings concerning art, literature, history, science and civilization. Sometimes the notes contain anecdotes or facts; at other times the notes consist of little more than a name or phrase. Gradually, we learn that Author is elderly, enervated and without motivation to do much more than rearrange the order of the cards. Here and there, we learn what Author has in mind --"a novel of intellectual reference and allusion...minus much of the novel." A sense of order begins to appear and the theme emerges that everything is sliding toward death. This novel is never boring and, despite its formlessness, is actually quite difficult to put down. There is an almost addictive quality to the notes. Markson's protagonists are often isolated and almost hermetically sealed off from social contact and relationships. Yet these characters have genuine insight into the human condition and express humanist feelings. The protagonist in this novel is no exception. By the book's end, I found myself laughing with and shedding a tear over a sparsely-developed, unnamed character whose inner life I was only allowed to glimpse through a collection of jotted notes. In that sense, Vanishing Point is an amazing work.
Rating: 
Summary: What's the point?
Review: Essentially an extended name-dropping session. Markson's structure holds great promise as does the breadth of his interests. But his narrator's presence is supremely awkward and utterly superfluous and thus offers none of the necessary consequence or pathos which this format should demand from its narrative interloper, leaving the reader with what amounts to a glorified laundry list of mostly inconsequential factoids (beguiling as they may be to anyone interested in western culture).
Markson must have a very pretty library indeed, as this book calls to mind nothing so much as a self-satisfied fat old "man of letters" alone in a room with no sophisticated thought of his own to offer, only a shallow, if encyclopedic, overview of western culture. Pity Markson if this is meant to be some crowning achievement for him.
To the reader, I would suggest skimming this volume at your local bookstore and exploring on your own the cultural figures with whom you are not familiar, as their works are sure to offer a greater intellectual satisfaction than this pathetic little exercise, which itself proves Markson's utter irrelevance relative to every single one of his subjects.
I would also add that Markson's anti-islamic tendencies are particularly revolting. He immediately juxtaposes a sentence about some Saudi Arabian women being denied help in a fire so that their rescuers won't see them without veils with a sentence allowing that Yiddish contains no word for "war." And so which religion must Markson be endorsing as the morally righteous one? I would also note that post-9/11 vulgarities of this sort are the only contemporary references he offers (they being conspicuously dated), thus presenting a stilted dichotomy of the adulterous, philandering and often vile (yet, to the author, utterly lovable) habits of the west's great white men and 4-5 laughably simplistic sentences which essentially relegate the entire history of the whole of the non-western world to a state of barbarity.
For anyone with their own mind, I trust you will recognize the 5 star reviews preceeding this one as a loud affirmation from the country's literary dilletantes that they, without reservation, prefer name-dropping to anything even approaching independent thought. In short, don't waste your money, let alone your time.
Rating:
Summary: fantastic concatenation
Review: i loved this narrative. anyone who finds rilke's date of death an important detail has my undying attention.
the author is a great voice.
a poet's dream.
Rating:
Summary: Markson is a Master
Review: I picked up this book a bit apprehensively, being aware of Markson's experimental style of narration. How could this possibly be termed a "novel" if it is merely a collection of facts from literature, history, music, politics, philosophy and religion? On a foundation such as this, how can one build the basic elements of plot, character and setting? As I read the book, however, I found myself marvelling at Markson's unique skill and vision. The "Author" of the novel arranges his massive collection of information in such a way that the elements in question are completed in the mind of the reader, like looking at an incomplete picture and mentally filling in the blanks. By the end of the book, I was acutely aware of having been moved - remarkably by a superficially disjointed series of anecdotes. Like Author, I was unwittingly swept into the vaguely existant narrative and pressed together the covers with a satisfying sense of enrichment. The flawless blend of tragedy, humor, ambition and madness in the world of human creativity (and destruction) remind the reader of the pleasures and pains of being in touch with truth. Markson will be remembered for this one.
Rating:
Summary: Markson is a Master
Review: I picked up this book a bit apprehensively, being aware of Markson's experimental style of narration. How could this possibly be termed a "novel" if it is merely a collection of facts from literature, history, music, politics, philosophy and religion? On a foundation such as this, how can one build the basic elements of plot, character and setting? As I read the book, however, I found myself marvelling at Markson's unique skill and vision. The "Author" of the novel arranges his massive collection of information in such a way that the elements in question are completed in the mind of the reader, like looking at an incomplete picture and mentally filling in the blanks. By the end of the book, I was acutely aware of having been moved - remarkably by a superficially disjointed series of anecdotes. Like Author, I was unwittingly swept into the vaguely existant narrative and pressed together the covers with a satisfying sense of enrichment. The flawless blend of tragedy, humor, ambition and madness in the world of human creativity (and destruction) remind the reader of the pleasures and pains of being in touch with truth. Markson will be remembered for this one.
Rating: 
Summary: Great Book!
Review: Interesting little tidbits of information all written in a novel. The author writes that" he finally put all of his notes into a manuscript" Notes that were taken from shoeboxes containing all different kinds of information.
Definately one of a kind!
Rating: 
Summary: Not Your Usual Novel
Review: It seems that "Author" has been collecting materials for his next novel on 3x5 index cards, and is about ready to start pulling the book together, but somehow he can't do it. We are presented with the cards--snippets of history, criticism, lines of poetry, dates, places where famous people died, dates when famous people died, snide remarks of famous people about other famous people, thoughts about death and dying, phrases in Italian, French, Latin, Aramaic, Hebrew. This is not a novel in any conventional sense. There is no plot, there are no characters, there are no chapters. Nothing happens. The book is an extended meditation on the transitoriness of life and fame. Snippets and sayings and epigrams and bon mots from the ages. One senses that the "Author" is an old Jewish man, who has spent his life immersed in literature, art, poetry and history. He reveals little else about himself. The actual Author, David Markson, is obviously a man of great erudition. Whether he is a good writer, I really cannot say. I know that the book was hard to finish, tedious, with moments of high entertainment and humor. I'm glad that I finished it, but I can say, it's not for everyone. Reviewed by Louis N. Gruber
Rating:
Summary: Not Your Usual Novel
Review: It seems that "Author" has been collecting materials for his next novel on 3x5 index cards, and is about ready to start pulling the book together, but somehow he can't do it. We are presented with the cards--snippets of history, criticism, lines of poetry, dates, places where famous people died, dates when famous people died, snide remarks of famous people about other famous people, thoughts about death and dying, phrases in Italian, French, Latin, Aramaic, Hebrew. This is not a novel in any conventional sense. There is no plot, there are no characters, there are no chapters. Nothing happens. The book is an extended meditation on the transitoriness of life and fame. Snippets and sayings and epigrams and bon mots from the ages. One senses that the "Author" is an old Jewish man, who has spent his life immersed in literature, art, poetry and history. He reveals little else about himself. The actual Author, David Markson, is obviously a man of great erudition. Whether he is a good writer, I really cannot say. I know that the book was hard to finish, tedious, with moments of high entertainment and humor. I'm glad that I finished it, but I can say, it's not for everyone. Reviewed by Louis N. Gruber
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