<p><p>in Recent Novels, Which Have Been Called “hypnotic,” “stunning,” And “exhilarating,” David Markson Has Created His Own Personal Genre. In This New Work, <i>the Last Novel,</i> An Elderly Author (referred To Only As “novelist”) Announces That Since This Will Be His Final Effort, He Has “carte Blanche To Do Anything He Damned Well Pleases.” <p>pressed By Solitude And Age, Novelist's Preoccupations Inevitably Turn To The Stories Of Other Artists — Their Genius, Their Lack Of Recognition, And Their Deaths. Keeping His Personal History Out Of The Story As Much As Possible, Novelist Creates An Incantatory Stream Of Fascinating Triumphs And Failures From The Lives Of Famous And Not-so-famous Painters, Writers, Musicians, Sports Figures, And Scientists.<p>as Novelist Moves Through His Last Years, A Minimalist Self-portrait Emerges, Becoming An Intricate Masterpiece From David Markson's Astonishing Imagination. Through These Startling, Sometimes Comic, But Often Tragic Anecdotes We Unexpectedly Discern The Entire Shape Of A Man's Life.<p></p><h3>the New York Times - Catherine Texier</h3><p>just When One Had Started Mourning The Demise Of Avant-garde And Postmodern Fiction, Buried Under The Avalanche Of Historical Novels, Chick Lit And Just Plain Old Traditional Stories, Here Comes David Markson's Latest Novel, <i>the Last Novel</i>, Which Is Anything But A Novel In Any Conventional Sense Of The Term. Yet It Manages To Keep Us Enthralled During The Length Of Its Short 190-page Span, And Even Moved To Tears At The End.</p>
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