Wittgenstein's Mistress [Paperback]

While I didn't find this book difficult, as others wrote, I think there's a dichotomy within it that contributes to that response.

I think this:

Markson wrote one book, a "philosophical novel," if there were such a genre--the novel demonstrates, rather than describes, a philosophy--and in so doing, he utilized more information than just the plot, the style, and the philosophy itself; this information becomes a sort of second book.

And I think the latter, the information that the narrator repeatedly discuses, are the "difficult" or perhaps simply "different" elements than the essence of the novel itself.

A woman is alone. She tells us, in the first sentence, she is alone on the earth ("At the beginning I left notes.") For me, there was a driving force to the plot - is this woman really alone, and to what extent? Is she alone in her house, holed up from trauma, or alone in her mind, "mad," as she phrases it - though she claims she has had periods of madness, not that she *is* mad. I found this plot elemnt a mystery, and I was driven, as such, to find out the ending or "truth."

The other element of the book is the substance itself, what she writes--thinks about--and the way she writes it. This, I think, is where a reader can become tired (I saw reviews say it should have been shorter, though this is quite a short book) or wander from the material.

The narrator talks a lot about ancient Greece, mythology, classical music, and limited-in-scope literature and art. Her focus is on "high art," or certain pieces of, but not all readers will be interested enough in Helen of Troy or in Brahms to find her musings compelling. They can be at odds with the other compelling part, the plot.

So, I think Markson has, in some way, two books. One is his plot/philosophical-novel and the other is the monologue of Kate, the narrator. I, too, perked up at times she did things near the beach house she lives - go for water, explore a neighboring house - and though I was/am interested in Helen, mythology, and literature, her musings were both limited in scope and each topic disproportionately covered. This would happen if any person's inner thoughts were put to paper - I may find Helen interesting, but classical music not so interesting.

Where I think the novel fails to keep the interest of readers is in the disparity between her life (Markson's philosophical demonstration) and her personal interests.

That said, for all my lack of interest in Brahms, et. al., there was an inevitable connection to her world - were there one or two copies of the book about Brahms? Did she burn one in a fire? Did she read it? Was it a children's book?

I was riveted. I too skimmed parts, as others said, as there was just so much about topics not of interest to me. But, no sooner did I begin to skim, than I was reeled back in. The book is fascinating. Its execution nearly brilliant. If I may nit-pick, Markson's excessive use of the word "doubtless" drove me nuts. In character or not, it was too much, to the point of distraction and detraction.

Last, I'll repeat what others have, the structure of each page, paragraph and sentence was wonderful. One-, two-sentence paragraphs, tangents of thought and reversal of thought, and her unreliable narration - contradiction of earlier things said, etc.

I found the end heartbreaking, and reread the last line a few times to be sure of my interpretation what I'd read. It was fully unexpected; it didn't read as the jolt I'd expected but, upon thought, it was one.

Riveting. Now, to figure out which Markson book to try next.

She is sufficiently self aware to know that she is insane. She refers to a number of events in her past that point to the cause of her mental decline -- the death of her only child at age seven from meningitis, the breakdown of her marriage, the deaths of both parents and the guilt and loneliness ensuing from all of the above. Gradually, the reader becomes aware that there is no other living being in the protagonist's existence. Gradually, the reader starts to suspect -- without ever quite knowing for certain -- that the world has somehow come to an end and that the protagonist is the sole survivor.

The stream of consciousness narration is the most fascinating and challenging aspect of this novel. The protagonist's thoughts are out of focus, obsessively repetitive, factually inconsistent (she refers to her only child first as Adam, then as Simon and, finally, as Lucien) and without logical sequence -- all of which are indicative of her mental state. This makes the novel all the more intriguing. However, it also makes for difficult reading. Unless you're planning on reading this book in a single sitting, be sure to have a bookmark handy. Finding one's place in this book can be a challenge.

Nonetheless, the protagonist always remains sympathetic. There is a purity and sweetness of soul that shines through the ramblings. Toward the book's end, she has what appears to be a moment of lucidity where she comes close to acknowledging the pain of her situation -- whatever that situation may be. The passage is absolutely heart-breaking.

This novel is filled with hundreds of references and anecdotes relating to music, art history, poetry, drama, mythology and the classics. These references cry out to be looked into further. In this respect, this novel reminds me of the works of Markson's friend and mentor, Malcolm Lowry. I suspect that there may be hidden gems in this book that won't become clear until the references are checked out and the book re-read.