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Wittgenstein's Mistress par David…
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Wittgenstein's Mistress (original 1988; édition 2006)

par David Markson

MembresCritiquesPopularitéÉvaluation moyenneMentions
1,5173511,822 (3.93)91
Wittgenstein's Mistress is a novel unlike anything David Markson or anyone else has ever written before. It is the story of a woman who is convinced and, astonishingly, will ultimately convince the reader as well that she is the only person left on earth. Presumably she is mad. And yet so appealing is her character, and so witty and seductive her narrative voice, that we will follow her hypnotically as she unloads the intellectual baggage of a lifetime in a series of irreverent meditations on everything and everybody from Brahms to sex to Heidegger to Helen of Troy. And as she contemplates aspects of the troubled past which have brought her to her present state--obviously a metaphor for ultimate loneliness--so too will her drama become one of the few certifiably original fictions of our time. "The novel I liked best this year," said the Washington Times upon the book's publication; "one dizzying, delightful, funny passage after another . . . Wittgenstein's Mistress gives proof positive that the experimental novel can produce high, pure works of imagination."… (plus d'informations)
Membre:juv3nal
Titre:Wittgenstein's Mistress
Auteurs:David Markson
Info:Dalkey Archive Pr (2006), Edition: Reprint, Paperback, 248 pages
Collections:Votre bibliothèque
Évaluation:*****
Mots-clés:Aucun

Information sur l'oeuvre

La Maîtresse de Wittgenstein par David Markson (1988)

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    Les Anneaux de Saturne par W. G. Sebald (michaeljohn)
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    Humpty Dumpty: An Oval par Damon Knight (bertilak)
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» Voir aussi les 91 mentions

Affichage de 1-5 de 35 (suivant | tout afficher)
Paradoxically, having practically gouged out my eyes reading large parts of Wittgenstein’s Mistress by David Markson, I consider it a very skilful and clever book, an impressive feat of writing and somewhat like a work of (conceptual) art.

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. ( )
  Dzaowan | Feb 15, 2024 |
Interesting as a philosophical/psychological thought experiment, the subject being what it would be like to be the last person alive. Repetitive and almost completely without a plot. ( )
  audient_void | Jan 6, 2024 |
Aunque lo que Leonardo dijo en realidad fue que no hay mejor manera de estar cuerdo y libre de toda ansiedad que estar loco


Kate es una mujer que frisa los cincuenta años. Eso es lo que Cervantes si pudiera conocer los avances de la narrativa desde su invención de la novela moderna diría del personaje protagonista de La amante de Wittgenstein. Una mujer que del mucho pensar en la cultura, la filosofía, los libros y todo en una escorrentía repetitiva y desesperada de datos, nos cuenta mucho de su sufrimiento como última persona en este planeta. Un sufrimiento que es también su ansiedad por acapararlo todo y volverse loca en el proceso, convirtiendo su mente en una mezcla de situaciones, vivencias, recuerdos, reflexiones y posibilidades que termina haciéndonos sentir el dolor de una locura desesperada por sanar de la que solo podemos encontrar en la misma la desconexión total. El final imposible, el poema inacabado, el adiós irresoluble de la pérdida de sí aunque en su soledad no importe, es solo un vacío inocuo de sentido para su mundo lleno de objetos que solo ella puede apreciar y nadie más. Es la pérdida en la nada, grito ahogado de quien cansada de su existencia escribe su mundo que es ella en una continuidad desbocada hacia una locura que va dando tumbos hasta su psicosis definitiva.

Aparte de eso, la novela es también un compendio obsesivo de datos que se entremezclan constantemente en una maravilla de popurrí que nos deja perplejos del sinsentido de la humanidad, de la cultura, del mundo, en una realidad donde solo existe una persona que ya no sabe recordar y se esfuerza en no perderse a sí misma. Es desgarrador ver como todo se desmorona y lo único que nos consuela es la voz de una madre en sus últimos instantes en un par de ocasiones, como el recuerdo que hace que la protagonista no sienta que todo fue una pérdida de tiempo.

Nunca sabrás cuánto significa para mí que seas artista, Kate, me dijo una noche
.

Esos momentos conmovedores que nos hacen conectar con Kate, cuando no está buscando a un gato o a una gaviota para hacerle compañía. O se imagina un cuadro imposible que siempre tiene la escena definitiva. O se despeña con un monovolúmen por un terraplén al mar. O rema mar adentro viendo el reflejo de las llamas de su casa en las olas. O tantas y tantas situaciones entre absurdas, tristes, incomprensibles, divertidas y ansiosas de encontrar ese alivio que nunca llega. Cansarse constantemente y frustrarse también es conocer a una persona que grita al papel por no poder hacer otra cosa, hasta convertirse en un producto de sí misma o de la historia de la literatura o de no se sabe muy bien qué.

¿Habría tenido algún sentido que yo dijera que la mujer de mi novela un día se habría acostumbrado más fácilmente a un mundo sin nadie en él que a un mundo sin algo como El descendimiento de la cruz de Rogier van der Weyden, por cierto? ¿O sin la Ilíada? ¿O sin Antonio Vivaldi?


Hay muchas listas que se vuelven cada vez más largas, y que son tristes


Por Dios. ¿No debería dejar de preocuparme por corregir todas estas bobadas y limitarme a dejar que mi lenguaje saliera de la forma en que insiste en salir?


Aunque sin duda lo único que estoy pensando es que si hay tantas cosas que parecen existir únicamente en mi cabeza, cuando me siento aquí, entonces comienzan a existir también en estas páginas. Presumiblemente, continúan existiendo en estas páginas.
( )
  AntonioSanAlo99 | Dec 3, 2023 |
(3.5, rounded up to 4 stars)
TL;DR - This is a mind-bending piece of fiction. One of the most surreal books I've ever read, or maybe will. Must-read if you're tired of linear plots and reliable narrators.
On the surface, Wittgenstein's Mistress is a very shallow piece of literature - a narrator who may or may not be the last person on Earth, and is looking to find other humans. There's not even a semblance of a plot. The protagonist is the definition of unreliable. The plot has no structure. Neither does it have a pacing.
Then why should you read it?
Precisely because of all of the things above. Because there is no plot, we are free to listen to Kate's musings on the relation between Shakespeare and Greece, on how Dostoyevsky cried after coming to the US, and much more supposedly meaningless trivia. Because the narrator is unreliable, it makes a cat-and-mouse game for the reader to remember which strand of plot is about to be rendered into incoherent fragments in the next few sentences. Because there is no structure, you are free to lose your train of thought and come back to it, and you'll realize that you've missed nothing, since nothing has happened in the first place! Because there's no pacing, you are free to ponder on Kate's absolute misery on being the last person on Earth, and to realize that the trivia is there for a reason (no spoilers).
Avant-garde doesn't even begin to cover it. This is one of the few original novels of our lifetime - and I can see why it was rejected a staggering fifty-four times. For me, I'll never look at literature the same way again. This is the very antithesis of what a novel is supposed to be - but then again, I suppose, that's the point. ( )
  SidKhanooja | Sep 1, 2023 |
This book is not exactly a parody of Ludwig Wittgenstein.
Nor is it exactly not a parody of Ludwig Wittgenstein.
It is one of a kind, brilliant, funny, and gets progressively funnier the more you read.
( )
  Cr00 | Apr 1, 2023 |
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» Ajouter d'autres auteur(e)s (13 possibles)

Nom de l'auteurRôleType d'auteurŒuvre ?Statut
David Marksonauteur principaltoutes les éditionscalculé
Moore, StevenPostfaceauteur secondairequelques éditionsconfirmé
Wallace, David FosterPostfaceauteur secondairequelques éditionsconfirmé
וולק, ארזTraducteurauteur secondairequelques éditionsconfirmé

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Wittgenstein's Mistress is a novel unlike anything David Markson or anyone else has ever written before. It is the story of a woman who is convinced and, astonishingly, will ultimately convince the reader as well that she is the only person left on earth. Presumably she is mad. And yet so appealing is her character, and so witty and seductive her narrative voice, that we will follow her hypnotically as she unloads the intellectual baggage of a lifetime in a series of irreverent meditations on everything and everybody from Brahms to sex to Heidegger to Helen of Troy. And as she contemplates aspects of the troubled past which have brought her to her present state--obviously a metaphor for ultimate loneliness--so too will her drama become one of the few certifiably original fictions of our time. "The novel I liked best this year," said the Washington Times upon the book's publication; "one dizzying, delightful, funny passage after another . . . Wittgenstein's Mistress gives proof positive that the experimental novel can produce high, pure works of imagination."

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