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Our Assessment:
B : clever, elegant entertainments See our review for fuller assessment.
From the Reviews: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review:
Harry Mathews is, as if often noted (so also on the back cover-blurb of this collection), the only American member of the Oulipo.
Oulipo-authors are notoriously playful in their works, engaged in odd literary games based on artificial constraints (see the Oulipo Compendium (and our review), co-edited by Mathews, for an excellent introduction to all things Oulipian).
Often forgotten behind these games is the sheer formal elegance of the work of many Oulipo authors, the care with which language is used by them: Georges Perec, Jacques Roubaud, Raymond Queneau, among others, are admirable writers of prose, able if not to completely cover the artificiality behind their texts at least to integrate it remarkably easily into them.
Harry Mathews manages the same, as he again demonstrates in this collection.
You will have been taught that you can't teach an old dog without breaking eggs -- look at one broken egg. But what will it have taught me ? It was an unlucky tide that parted you from me.Still, it can be a bit much. Most of the other stories are not based on such tight constraints -- resembling, even, plain short fiction. But they're still anything but plain. Franz Kafka in Riga echoes Borges' Pierre Menard, the narrator finding his own words repeated in a Kafka-passage -- exactly, save for a single word. Barely a flare of a story -- just two pages long -- Mathews manages to achieve a marvelous effect with it. Remarks of a Scholar Graduate offers a baffling (and hilarious -- and, deep down, also very clever) scholarly debate about language. The Dialect of the Tribe is a purported Festschrift-contribution, again focussed on language -- here literally all-consuming. The narrator (there are a lot of first-person narrators in these stories) finds: The longer I live -- the longer I write -- the stronger becomes my conviction that translation is the paradigm, the exemplar of all writing. To put it another way: it is translation that demonstrates most vividly the yearning for transformation that underlies every act involving speech, that supremely human gift.Needless to say, Mathews manages to vividly depict this thought. One of Mathews' classic tales, Country Cooking from Central France is also included -- the ultimate recipe-gone-awry-tale, which is, in fact, largely literally a recipe ("Serves thirteen", the story concludes). All in all: good fun. There aren't too many of these stories (only two dozen), so Mathews doesn't exhaust each idea that comes to him with infinite variations. The stories are carefully constructed, Mathews making sure everything is just so, each idea as well-realized as he can make them. The writing, even under the worst (such as the chronogrammatic) constraints, is quite remarkable. Mathews doesn't offer any lazy sentences (perhaps because of the constraints which force him to put so much work into each); if anything, one might find that there is too much polish to them. Aside from the language, Mathews offers some decent stories too, tales where stuff happens. He knows how to grab (and generally hold) a reader's attention, too -- consider the beginning of Tear Sheet: Justice has been done, said the occupied girl, withdrawing an icepick from the neck of the occupant. Elsewhere interpretations differ: does equality mean equal rights, or one law for all ? If that is the case, who should pay ?The stories remain elusive (if what is the case ?), always keeping the reader just off-balance. It's part of their provocativeness, and part of their fascination. The Human Country won't be to everyone's taste, but it is certainly of interest. - Return to top of the page - The Human Country:
- Return to top of the page - American author Harry Mathews was born in 1930. He graduated from Harvard. In 1952 he moved to Paris, becoming a member of the OuLiPo in the early 1970s. - Return to top of the page -
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