What is Experimental Literature? {pt. 4}
Because Roxane’s recent post on Davis Schneiderman’s novel Blank engaged so thoughtfully with my ongoing “What is Experimental Literature” series (pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3), I decided to postpone my previously planned posting (which deals with the critical theory of Roland Barthes), and instead directly address Schneiderman’s novel and what I perceive to be Roxane’s basic concern about it: namely, what to do with it.
Unfortunately, my series on experimental literature offered Roxane no help in dealing with Schneiderman’s novel. The reason, I would argue, is that Blank moves out of the boundary zone of experimental literature and into the boundary zone of conceptual literature. The difference between those categories seems just as significant as the distinctions between experimental and conventional literature, and therefore require yet another set of heuristics.
I must say, I love the problems that conceptual literature presents to my attempts at understanding experimental literature. For one thing, it works to disrupt any notion of binary opposition: no longer can anyone mistakenly assume that I’m presenting an either/or when I discuss the relationship between experimental and conventional literature — the spectre of conceptual literature invalidates any such assumption by demonstrating the possibility of other potential categories. For another thing, I think conceptual literature can help to recalibrate our expectations and assumptions about experimental literature.
What follows is my attempt at answering what I perceive to be Roxane’s query regarding Schneiderman’s novel, as well as an attempt to grapple with the differences between conceptual and experimental works.
Sandra Simonds wrote a really fine essay about motherhood, poverty and poetry you might find interesting.
Does suffering over a manuscript make it more “authentic” or “better”? What about taking a long time to write it? If yes, why? If not, why not? Help me destroy some exhausted and exhausting writer myths, friends. Please.
Andrew cam: Rohrer/McCann book release
Anthony McCann; new book: “I <3 Your Fate”
Matthew Rohrer; new book: “Destroyer and Preserver”
(It got cut off because I was unknowingly holding the flip cam by its power button — forgive me. It’s still pretty tight though.)
Molly Gaudry, Independent Publicist
Yesterday morning, the multi-talented Molly Gaudry announced that she was making herself available for hire as an independent publicist. Within no time, she found herself in business. So much business, in fact, that she had to issue this press release:
Due to a shockingly overwhelming demand, I am at this time only considering authors with books that have been or will be published by the presses listed here. Please know that I am only going to take on 2-4 individual titles for the next six months, and I will have to make a lot of difficult decisions as the queries keep coming. Thank you for considering me, though, and for your support and encouragement as this company continues to grow.
For anyone lucky enough to fit her criteria, I highly recommend inquiring about her services. Molly is awesome. This idea is awesome. Cheers to her, and good luck!
Spicer on Whitman
Forgive me Walt Whitman, you whose fine mouth has sucked the cock of the heart of the country for fifty years. You did not ever understand cruelty. It was that that severed your world from me, fouled your moon and your ocean, threw me out of your bearded paradise. The comrade you are walking with suddenly twists your hand off. The ghost-bird that is singing to you suddenly leaves a large seagull dropping in your eye. You are sucking the cock of a heart that has clap.
from “Some Notes on Whitman for Allen Joyce”
Blank by Davis Schneiderman and Working Toward an Understanding of Experimental Literature
I can openly admit I struggle, at times, with experimental literature, understanding how it works, what a given experimental text means, the significance of the text. I’ve been reading Christopher Higg’s series with great interest in the hopes that his thoughts might help address some of the intense confusion I feel. His posts have indeed helped but I’m still struggling.
At AWP, I had the opportunity to pick up the book Blank, a novel by Davis Schneiderman, published by Jaded Ibis Press. I had received some press materials about the book in the preceding months so the title was familiar and I had also recently met the author so I thought I would buy the book and see what it was about. I didn’t pay close attention to the press materials so nothing could have surprised me more than to realize that Blank is actually blank. I probably should have but that’s a different matter. There is no text in the book save for the copyright page, the Table of Contents, twenty chapter titles, an About the Author page and an About the Artist page. There is also artwork, by Susan White, what appear to be pieces of pictures of water, clouds, snow—it’s difficult to make out what some of the imagery represents.
That night in my hotel room, I opened the book and realized it was blank and felt angry about the $15 or so I paid for the book. I ranted something incoherently at my roommate then angrily shoved the book into my suitcase. I may have used the word, “Seriously,” with a tone.
February 18th, 2011 / 8:23 pm