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Our Assessment:
A- : engagingly odd, and beautifully crafted See our review for fuller assessment.
Review Consensus: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review:
Though called 'A Fiction' -- emphatically, on the cover, even, for the American edition -- the first-person narrative of Border Districts is certainly easily (mis)taken for a memoir or personal essay.
Indeed, the claim in the text itself is that: "I am not writing a work of fiction but a report of seemingly fictional matters", and that this is: "a report of actual events only".
This ambiguity -- and stoking it in this way -- is certainly part of Murnane's game.
I moved to this district near the border so that I could spend most of my time alone and so that I could live according to several rules that I had long wanted to live by.Shedding family -- the kids are grown, on their own -- he has also, shockingly, sold off most of his library. For one, because the "mere cottage" he has moved to is too small to house more than a few hundred -- but: I had sold the books also in order to keep faith with myself. For some years past, I had claimed that whatever deserved to be remembered from my experiences as a reader of book was, in fact, safely remembered. I had claimed also the converse of this: whatever I had forgotten from my experience as a reader of books had not deserved to be remembered. By selling my books, I was declaring that I had gotten from them whatever I had needed from them.To some extent, Border Districts is a memory-book, as the narrator focuses on recollection -- on this left-over, from books, and experience. Numerous books -- interestingly, writers' lives more often, or at least more specifically, than fiction -- are mentioned; often, it is experience surrounding the reading, rather than the writing itself that is recalled. Looking back to childhood, the distance is so great that he speaks of his younger self in the third person -- and amusingly suggests the blur of the reading of those days, the books like one never-ending one, and: Likewise, the many fictional characters that he had read about he seemed to remember as two only: a young male character and a young female character.Tellingly, however, for all the purported vagueness, Murnane closes this volume with a verbatim quote, two lines from Shelley's 'Adonaïs' (or, as he puts it: "from some or another poem by Shelley"), which he's: "remembered for more than fifty years in spite of myself" ..... Border Districts is a word-story, with the author very conscious of -- and reminding the reader of -- its writing, but the focus is very much on memory, and there also specifically the visual, rather than the verbal. He mentions in the opening paragraph the idea of wanting to: "guard my eyes", and it's something he returns to repeatedly. He does not want to be overwhelmed by visual stimuli, he wants to remain focused, to carefully limit and dose what he perceives -- describing, for example, doing so even while driving home (yet again from the capital city ...). The "image-world" -- in his mind's eye, as well as real -- seems to have always been dominant. So also he admits: I failed as a writer of fiction because I was constantly engaged not with the seeming subject-matter of the text but with the doings of personages who appeared to me while I tried to read and with the scenery that appeared around them. My image-world was often only slightly connected with the text in front of my eyesTexts are often pivotal in his life -- he reports abruptly losing his (religious) faith at age twenty, "while I was reading one or another of the novels of Thomas Hardy" -- or still remembered vividly (if always also somewhat indistinctly): some passage from Proust copied out three decades earlier; a volume of by an author whose name he can't seem to remember but which he can visualize clearly (surely Robert Walser) from similarly long ago; a recently-read Hungarian trilogy (surely Miklós Bánffy's) whose imagery leads him back to a memory of his late teens and first girlfriend. There is also the purely visual -- including much description and explanation about glass marbles and stained glass windows. There's a fascination with color and light -- and a first "luxury" purchase he made when he could afford to spend a bit more money: a fancy set of one hundred twenty colored pencils, which he still has, never used "in the way that most pencils are used" but which he arranges beside one another, playing simply with color. There are many references to the writing of the text itself, the author's own engagement with it -- right down to the occasional questioning: "Why have I included in this report the tedious matter of the preceding paragraphs ?" Certainly, the observations about the writing, about the nature of what is being written (fiction or report ?), about the interruptions in the writing and the new experiences brought to it, constantly bring the memory-text into the present, a reminder of the vantage point from which he is writing -- the 'border districts' and the present -- that he never wants to lose sight of. It is a fascinating, circuitous memory-trip and reflection on life and writing, on observation and recollection. For all its seemingly meandering progression, it's also carefully, artfully structured, including in its repetitions -- and in what is left unsaid, only hinted at and suggested. So also the novel's closing words, the quote from Shelley: Life, like a dome of many-coloured glass,Disappointingly, the American edition ends the quote with a period. In the actual poem, of course, there's a comma, as the sentence continues -- with the words: "Until Death tramples it to fragments", another echo appropriate to this work of literary and visual refraction. (The poem, Shelley's 'Adonaïs', was of course: 'An Elegy on the Death of John Keats'.) No doubt, Border Districts is odd and oddly unsettling reflective fiction. Murnane's story-telling is both casual (or at least casual-seeming) and intense; it's surprisingly often funny, too. Murnane's writing is carefully, thoughtfully worded, his deliberations seemingly open, even as there's obviously much more hidden care and attention behind it: for all its seeming openness, there's also a sense of how guarded Murnane remains, the range of what he shares closely circumscribed. Border Districts isn't a text for those seeking stories with more obvious, simpler, neater arcs, but anyone interested in what one can still do with/in writing should find it quite fascinating. And Murnane fans will certainly not be disappointed. - M.A.Orthofer, 26 March 2018 - Return to top of the page - Border Districts:
- Return to top of the page - Australian author Gerald Murnane was born in 1939. - Return to top of the page -
© 2018-2023 the complete review
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