David Markson: Fare Forward: Letters from David Markson

WORK HARDER! (To strive, to seek, to find — etc. Who’m I quoting? 32)

I don’t have any idea whatever became of that essay supposedly being written for RCF, by the way. The guy called me with a few questions 15 months ago, but there’s been not a word since. I’ve no idea if it’s been written, scheduled — or for that matter abandoned?

When you get to Russia, I want a postcard with a picture of Raskolnikov and the ax on it!

Hey, as always, take care, stay well, and my best to Corey.

Thine—

David

32 Ulysses, from “Ulysses,” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson: “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”

Dear Simsy—

Hey, marvelous — that you’re essentially finished. 33I just called James Joyce to inform him, & he said to tell you “Mazel Tov”—which is Irish for “Zowie.” Seriously, I’m pleased and honored both — and do hope you place it somewhere prestigious.

Meantime, quote me what it says about Catherine the Great’s death 34—sort of chapter & verse — and I may rewrite & steal it. (I always fuss over sources.)

Again — cheers & congrats — and thanks.

As always—

David

33 With my essay on Markson’s work.

34 I think this quote about Catherine the Great dying on the toilet came from a Russian travel guide.

Dear Simso—

Just this a.m., out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a Kate the Great bio on a bookstore shelf — Erickson, was it? 35Anyhow, I skimmed the necessary pages. Forever on, the line in my next book, if I use the line — and if there is a next book — will be known as the Laura Sims Memorial Water Closet Line!

Thine—

D.

35 Great Catherine: The Life of Catherine the Great, Empress of Russia. Carolly Erickson (St. Martin’s Griffin, 1995).

Dear Simsy—

Forgive the yeller-paper scrawl. Your cheery, enthusiastic — nay, even bubbly letter — deserves better. And sure does indicate you had a smashing time. 36Travel’s good — says he who once had three years in Mexico, and more than a year and a half in Europe, but lately hasn’t been farther away from the Village than Jim Edmonds 37can throw a baseball. (Then again I’ve taken the Weehawken ferry a few times, en route to where my son lives in NJ — right past where Aaron Burr shot that guy on the $10 bill.)

Where was I? About to say thanx for the photos, 38too, making you less than the wraith you’ve been up ’til now. Corey likewise. I do find it Bishop Berkeley-ish 39that you visited the houses where two people (three) who never lived, lived. (I say three because Lizaveta was of course the old panwbroker lady’s sister; though, hmm, there’s RRR’s 40landlady too, no? Tons of people who never lived, lived there.)

A couple of years ago I paused to look at a building on an obscure street not far from here that I’d had in mind, all those decades ago, as the home of my man Chance in Going Down; the gal Fern sees him through a window, goes into the building, raps at an apartment door to her left. All these years (earliest drafts, ca. 1960) she’s gone into a door at her left. Only in 2003 or so do I discover that everything to the left is another building altogether. To get into the apartment I’ve visualized her looking into, she’d have to step around the corner! So much for fictional reality!

Golly, what a profoundly metaphysical moment in the creative history of David M — and nobody knows it but Simsy.

Hey, again, pardon the scrawl. Already more’n I’d anticipated.

I’m delighted that you had such a great time. Pomes that you’ve never given a thought to will be lurking because of it, who knows when?

Thine—

David

P.S. “If there is no God, how can I be a captain, then?” says somebody in The Possessed. If there was no landlady on the floor below, who did Raskolnikov owe the rent on his garret to — and what was the exchange rate on the make-believe roubles?

36 In St. Petersburg.

37 Jim Edmonds, retired center fielder.

38 In one photo, I’m standing next to the door of Raskolnikov’s supposed apartment; another shows the graffiti scrawled on the wall outside the door of the apartment, including the phrase, “Don’t do it, Rodya!” (in French and English).

39 George Berkeley, a.k.a. Bishop Berkeley, a proponent of idealism, the belief that reality consists exclusively of minds and their ideas.

40 Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov.

Simsy—

I have just written nine different drafts — nine — of a roughly 25-word paragraph ending with Don’t do it, Rodya! 41 Still not right, but now a tentative index card in my shoebox tops. 42What with Catherine the Great’s commode in there already, you may write my entire next novel!

Thine—

D.

41 The phrase from the graffiti I’d found outside Raskolnikov’s apartment.

42 David composed his last four novels by writing notes on index cards, then filing the cards in shoebox tops, editing the individual notes until he was satisfied, and finally, rearranging the cards until finding the right order. He speaks of this in greater detail during the interview we did for Rain Taxi, page 123.

Dear Laura

Thank you

I am pleased to have it 43

But the poems are so

Difficult

I will try

Some more

Times

Thine

David

(But probably will need more times than that.)

43 A copy of Bank Book, my first chapbook of poems, published by Answer Tag Press.

Dear Simso—

Of course you can dedicate that pome to me. 44I’ll be honored.

EVEN IF I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT!!!

Marco Antonio Montes de Oca 45has a poem entitled “ David Markson ha salido a comprar una botella. ” 46

By the way, the titles “Bank One,” “Bank Two,” etc., etc., etc., work well enough — but I assume you’re aware there actually is a Bank One? I write them a check every time I pay my Visa card.

Listen, meantime. Eighteen months ago, the guy who was supposedly doing the essay on me for RCF got in touch, and we had one phone conversation. Last November, a minor coincidence occurred, involving him — not worth outlining here — but I scribbled him a postcard noting same, also asking what was up with the essay. Silence. Four weeks ago, obliquely triggered by a thought of your work, maybe, I sent another card (this being after another nine months). Again silence. I have no idea what it means — rejected, project canceled, the guy’s moved to Katmandu, whatever? But it may be worth your while to inquire at RCF again, if you want. After this latest silence, I thought I’d let you know — with, as I say, no idea what it means or what it’s worth. 47

My old (and in many ways favorite) novel Going Down is scheduled to be reissued next spring. Correct that: is being scheduled for then. I exercise caution because it was planned a few times before and always fell into a screw-up.

Otherwise, forgive the scrawl, cheesy paper, etc. For some reason I haven’t been able to confront taking the cover off the typewriter for months. Long hours daily here making notes for a new book — but so many damned aches and pains simultaneously that I feel as if I’m 107 years old. Which is pretty grim when you’re only 103.

Have you and Corey registered to vote in Wisconsin? (For Kerry, I assume?!)

Thine—

David

P.S. Or re: that other writer, maybe, A., he’s just inordinately slow, and B., doesn’t answer mail? What I’ve said is all I know.