David Markson (1927–2010)
Auteur de La Maîtresse de Wittgenstein
A propos de l'auteur
David Markson was born in Albany, New York on December 20, 1927. He received an undergraduate degree from Union College and a master's degree from Columbia University. Besides being a writer, he also worked as a journalist, book editor, and periodically as a college professor at Columbia afficher plus University, Long Island University, and The New School. His works include Epitaph for a Tramp; Epitaph for a Dead Beat; This Is Not a Novel; Springer's Progress; Wittgenstein's Mistress; and The Last Novel. His novel, The Ballad of Dingus Magee, was made into a film starring Frank Sinatra entitled Dirty Dingus Magee. He was found dead on June 4, 2010 at the age of 82. (Bowker Author Biography) afficher moins
Séries
Œuvres de David Markson
Epitaph for a Tramp and Epitaph for a Dead Beat: The Harry Fannin Detective Novels (2007) 122 exemplaires
Women and vodka 1 exemplaire
The 14-Day Ordeal of Seaman Bourget 1 exemplaire
Quel dritto di Fannin 1 exemplaire
Étiqueté
Partage des connaissances
- Nom canonique
- Markson, David
- Nom légal
- Markson, David Merrill
- Date de naissance
- 1927-12-20
- Date de décès
- 2010-06-04
- Sexe
- male
- Nationalité
- USA
- Lieu de naissance
- Albany, New York, USA
- Lieu du décès
- New York, New York, USA
- Études
- Union College (BA)
Columbia University (MA) - Professions
- author
- Prix et distinctions
- American Academy of Arts and Letters Academy Award (Literature, 2007)
Membres
Discussions
Pulp mystery novel, published in early 2000s, set in 1950s Greenwich Village à Name that Book (Novembre 2015)
Critiques
Listes
Prix et récompenses
Vous aimerez peut-être aussi
Auteurs associés
Statistiques
- Œuvres
- 21
- Membres
- 3,821
- Popularité
- #6,635
- Évaluation
- 3.9
- Critiques
- 104
- ISBN
- 48
- Langues
- 7
- Favoris
- 24
It is a story narrated by a woman who is seemingly the last human on Earth. I say seemingly since this is never qualified by anyone else and is only the word of this somewhat unreliable narrator who could quite possibly be stark raving bonkers instead.
She feeds us her piecemeal story of a married life and son’s death before some supposedly Armageddon-type intervention leaves her alone on the planet (as far as we can tell), frequenting countries, cities and art galleries whilst ruminating rather obsessively and pedantically on life, culture and the world’s and her own personal history.
So why was it such a chore if it was so good? I confess that my experience of Wittgenstein’s work is very basic but I believe Markson deftly weaves the linguist’s particular style and concerns with language into this novel in the manner of obsession with meaning of the central character. Constant and meticulous attempts (bordering on fanatically pedantical affection) to communicate exactly what is meant take precedent over plot and like linguistic branches, tangents of miscomprehension are exhaustively explored before the initial point/route is rejoined a few paragraphs or pages later, to continue the ‘story’.
Yet this is all so very clever and impressive that Markson can so convincingly write as this possibly insane character lamenting her lost son and life whilst ruminating on so many facets of existence. It truly is a great feat of writing despite the fact that it makes it a real trawl to the end. If you are a fan of novels that make you work and think and concern themselves with what it is to mean and be understood - this will be right up your street.… (plus d'informations)