25 of 33 people found the following review helpful
- Published on Amazon.com
Dear Mr. Vila-Matas,
I have no reason to think you will ever see this. Why, after all, should you spend your time reading the reviews on the English-language Amazon site? But I have decided to write this review as if I am writing it to you, because it's in the spirit of your book. And how will I describe this book? It is generous, open, friendly, conversational, and also -- I hope you did not think this was only going to be a friendly review -- also infuriating, loosely written, and hopelessly scattered.
The book is a treasure trove of wonderful books, because you report on many writers that your reader will not have heard of. I marked the margins of my copy with a dozen names that I will now have to go and read. At the same time, I was delighted to find the names of many others that I know and recognize.
And that leads me to my frustration. From very nearly the beginning of the book I found myself arguing with you. Your theme, you say, is "writers of the No," meaning writers who have, for one reason or another, stopped writing. But that is the crux of the matter, that "one reason or another." Writers stop writing for many different reasons. Beckett is not the same case as Rimbaud, and Melville is not the same as Hawthorne. Some were depressed, some tired, some scared, and some -- I would have thought they would be your only subject -- stopped because they felt that modernism (a word that is weirdly absent from your book) prohibited the endless production of novels.
I can hear you saying, Well, yes, but as I say in my book, this is a vast subject, and there are many nuances and many different cases that must be judged and weighed. Exactly. They are different, and where your book falls short (sorry, I am being honest because I do not think you'll see this letter) of, say, Blanchot or even Perec (whom you cite) is where it is necessary to really slow down and think about each individual case.
PS, please, some day, read Wittgenstein's Tractatus. You wouldn't have written what you did if you'd read it, and it might have changed your ideas about other silences as well.
Still, even though this sounds negative and even, I suppose, a bit petulant (or even arch in my mimicry of your easy way of writing), the book is wonderful. It is richer, more full of ideas and writers I want to know, than any academic book I can think of.
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful
R. M. Peterson
- Published on Amazon.com
The book is named after the title figure in Herman Melville's short story "Bartleby the Scrivener." Melville's Bartleby is profoundly disengaged from life, and he responds to virtually every request, even those simply asking him to do his job as a scrivener or copy clerk, "I would prefer not to". Vila-Matas uses Bartleby as the prototype for authors who, in one way or another, preferred not to write. Presented as a series of footnotes to a "text that is invisible", BARTLEBY & CO. explores that denial and variants thereof through literature. Among the variants are writers who (somewhat paradoxically) never wrote, writers who vowed not to write again, those with writers' block, those who committed suicide, or those (like Thomas Pynchon) who are especially secretive.
In many respects, the book is an extended essay -- in turn, meditative, irreverent, witty, and (alas) also boring. But it is set in a context that is fictional, almost fantastical: the narrator (named Marcelo) is a reclusive hunchback, unsuccessful with women, who ultimately is fired from his job because he takes off too much time to pursue his obsession with "the literature of the No". The "footnotes" to the invisible text actually take the form of diary entries for the year 1999.
Much of BARTLEBY & CO. clearly is a commentary on contemporary literature or the "impossibility of literature," posing the question, among others, what is the future of literature? At other times, however, the book seems to be a somewhat impressionistic portrayal of existential ennui. (That latter aspect probably is responsible for the former dilemma.)
The novel certainly reflects quite extensive reading on the part of Vila-Matas. Among the writers who are mentioned (in rough order of appearance in the novel): Robert Walser, Robert Moretti, Juan Rulfo, Rimbaud, Socrates, Hofmannsthal and "Letter of Lord Chandos" (the "pinnacle of the literature of the No"), Robert Musil, Franz Kafka, Ludwig Wittgenstein, Valery Larbaud, Pepin Bello, Bobi Bazlen, Danielle Del Grudice, Robert Derain, Arthur Cravan, Hart Crane, Joseph Joubert, Chamfort, Felisberto Hernandez, J.D. Salinger, Fernando Passoa, Elias Canetti, Paul Celan, John Keats, Herman Broch, Mallarme, Herman Melville and Nathaniel Hawthorne, Oscar Wilde, Henry Roth, Juan Ramon Jimenez, Marcel Maniere, Derek Walcott, Thomas Pynchon, Guy de Maupassant, B. Traven, and Tolstoy.
If you are not familiar with Melville's story, I strongly recommend taking an hour to read it before starting BARTLEBY & CO. Those who have read the Melville story know that Bartleby is an odd duck. It is doubly fitting that this novel be named after him, because not only does it develop the "Bartleby syndrome" but it too is an odd duck, or an odd book. At first the conceit is interesting, but I found it overdone.