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Jun. 16th, 2013 07:54 amI am SO CLOSE to closing out my reading list. Or at least, I THOUGHT I WAS.
Turns out that the library is having trouble procuring for me the last half-dozen books on the list, but when I opened my netbook the last time I traveled, I was reminded that I have a "to read" file of digital books. Without an e-reader I find digital books rather difficult, but I've been slowly plowing through them with my netbook on the train in the mornings.
As I wrote along, in long-hand at first, a whole army of little E’s gathered around my desk, all eagerly expecting to be called upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without even noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings amongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen....
-- Introduction (with e)
I'm not sure where I picked up Gadsby from, but I had a PDF of it which came from somewhere. Gadsby is a book written entirely without the use of the letter E, which was a sterner proposition in the days before digital thesauri and "search document". Imagine being able to search a document and not find a single letter E. The technique is known as lipogram, and has been employed by other writers as well, including the French writer Georges Perec, who was apparently inspired by Gadsby.
I tried to write a version of this review without the letter E and failed miserably. I need to go back and see how Wright compensated for not being able to use -ed.
It is a story about a small town. It is not a gossipy yarn; nor is it a dry, monotonous account, full of such customary "fill-ins" as "romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down a long, winding country road."...it is an account of up-and-doing activity, a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today...
--ch. 1
( Gadsby, by Ernest Vincent Wright )
Final Verdict: For people who are fond of novelty books or of books that play with prose, it's a fun read; there's not much depth to the story but the feat itself is well worth applauding. And because the prose is so fun, I'll leave you with Wright's description of the local county fair:
Ah! It was a fair, I’ll say! What mobs on that first day! And what a din!! Bands playing, ballyhoos shouting, popcorn a-popping, “hot dogs’ a-sizzling, ducks squawking, cows lowing, pigs grunting, an occasional baby squalling; and amidst it all, a choking cloud of dust, a hot Autumn wind, panting, fanning matrons, cussing husbands; all working toward that big oval track at which all had a flimsy possibility of winning a million or two (or a dollar or two!). Oh, you County Fairs! You bloom in your canvas glory, annually. You draw vast crowds; you show high quality farm stock, gigantic pumpkins, thousands of poultry, including our “Thanksgiving National Bird”. You fill coops with fancy squabs, fat rabbits, and day-old chicks. You show many forms of incubators, churns, farming apparatus, pumps, plows, lighting plants for small farms, windmills, “bug” poisons, and poultry foods. And you always add a big balloon, which you anchor, so that kids may soar aloft until a windlass pulls it down. You fill us with food that would kill a wild goat, but you still last! And may you always do so; for, within your flapping, bulging canvas walls, city man rubs against town man, rich and poor girls bump, snobs attain no right of way, and a proud, happy boy or girl shows a “First Class” satin ribbon which a lovingly brought-up calf or poultry brood has won.
-ch.14
Turns out that the library is having trouble procuring for me the last half-dozen books on the list, but when I opened my netbook the last time I traveled, I was reminded that I have a "to read" file of digital books. Without an e-reader I find digital books rather difficult, but I've been slowly plowing through them with my netbook on the train in the mornings.
As I wrote along, in long-hand at first, a whole army of little E’s gathered around my desk, all eagerly expecting to be called upon. But gradually as they saw me writing on and on, without even noticing them, they grew uneasy; and, with excited whisperings amongst themselves, began hopping up and riding on my pen....
-- Introduction (with e)
I'm not sure where I picked up Gadsby from, but I had a PDF of it which came from somewhere. Gadsby is a book written entirely without the use of the letter E, which was a sterner proposition in the days before digital thesauri and "search document". Imagine being able to search a document and not find a single letter E. The technique is known as lipogram, and has been employed by other writers as well, including the French writer Georges Perec, who was apparently inspired by Gadsby.
I tried to write a version of this review without the letter E and failed miserably. I need to go back and see how Wright compensated for not being able to use -ed.
It is a story about a small town. It is not a gossipy yarn; nor is it a dry, monotonous account, full of such customary "fill-ins" as "romantic moonlight casting murky shadows down a long, winding country road."...it is an account of up-and-doing activity, a vivid portrayal of Youth as it is today...
--ch. 1
( Gadsby, by Ernest Vincent Wright )
Final Verdict: For people who are fond of novelty books or of books that play with prose, it's a fun read; there's not much depth to the story but the feat itself is well worth applauding. And because the prose is so fun, I'll leave you with Wright's description of the local county fair:
Ah! It was a fair, I’ll say! What mobs on that first day! And what a din!! Bands playing, ballyhoos shouting, popcorn a-popping, “hot dogs’ a-sizzling, ducks squawking, cows lowing, pigs grunting, an occasional baby squalling; and amidst it all, a choking cloud of dust, a hot Autumn wind, panting, fanning matrons, cussing husbands; all working toward that big oval track at which all had a flimsy possibility of winning a million or two (or a dollar or two!). Oh, you County Fairs! You bloom in your canvas glory, annually. You draw vast crowds; you show high quality farm stock, gigantic pumpkins, thousands of poultry, including our “Thanksgiving National Bird”. You fill coops with fancy squabs, fat rabbits, and day-old chicks. You show many forms of incubators, churns, farming apparatus, pumps, plows, lighting plants for small farms, windmills, “bug” poisons, and poultry foods. And you always add a big balloon, which you anchor, so that kids may soar aloft until a windlass pulls it down. You fill us with food that would kill a wild goat, but you still last! And may you always do so; for, within your flapping, bulging canvas walls, city man rubs against town man, rich and poor girls bump, snobs attain no right of way, and a proud, happy boy or girl shows a “First Class” satin ribbon which a lovingly brought-up calf or poultry brood has won.
-ch.14
