Late in the course of David Markson’s quirky novel, the equally
quirky narrator Kate decides that perhaps she should write a
novel too.

But then Kate hesitates because, as she notes, any novel she
might write would have only character—and who would want to
read a book with just one character?

Wittgenstein’s Mistress is a novel with just one

I wondered: What if the narrator of that novel also
decides to write a novel, and so on and so on?  
That’s an invitation to infinite regress.

Which reminds me of
Inifnite Jest, a novel by
David Foster Wallace, who called
"pretty much the high point of
experimental fiction in this country."

This country meaning the United States.  
Although Wittgenstein himself was a British

Well, not really a British philosopher, since he was born in Austria.

But he did most of his philosophizing in Britain.

And Kate probably wasn't his mistress, since Wittgenstein was

But if he had been heterosexual, his mistress still wouldn't be
Kate, who never met Ludwig Wittgenstein.

Which raises the obvious question: why is this book call

Kate's style of writing does resemble Wittgenstein’s
, a philosophical work broken down into a
series of isolated declarative statements.  The reader needs to do
the heavy lifting to connect them into a meaningful whole.

Wittgenstein's Mistress is a novel broken down into a series of
isolated declarative statements. The reader needs to do the heavy
lifting to connect them into a meaningful whole.

This essay on
Wittgenstein's Mistress is broken down into a series
of isolated declarative statements.

You have to do the heavy lifting.

Kate is isolated too.

Did I forget to mention that she is the last living person in the world?

She is the last living person in the world.

Which makes Wittgenstein's Mistress sound like a science fiction
book.  Sorta like
I am Legend or The Road.

That’s not really fair.  
Wittgenstein's Mistress is more of a
postmodern experimental novel.     

In fact, I’m really not sure that Kate is the last living person in the
world.  Despite what I just said.

She is an unrealiable narrator, and often contradicts what she
just said.  And she might just be crazy.

Just like me.

Well, not the crazy part.  I am not crazy.  But I did just contradict
what I had previously said.

But only because Kate contradicts what she tells me.

That is not to say that she tells me anything.  I just read her book.

And really it’s not her book.  It's a novel written by David Markson.

Who probably wasn't crazy.  And may possibly have never said
something and immediately contradicted himself.

But he probably did.  Because a lot of people do that.

Contradict themselves, that is. Not write novels.

But a lot of people do talk about writing novels.  I've seen that a lot.  
People saying: "I’m going to write a novel some day."

But usually they never do it.

Write the novel, that is.

Assuming that there really are other people.  Which this book might
make you doubt.

It being a somewhat solipsistic book.

Solipsism being a philosophical system in which only the
philosopher exists, and no one else.

Which is sort of like being the last living person on the planet.

Or being really, really lonely.  Which is what David Foster Wallace
thought this novel was actually about.

Which is sad to think about.  Since David Foster Wallace
committed suicide, and might have been really, really lonely

Which reminds me that Ludwig Wittgenstein had three brothers
who committed suicide, and he considered doing so himself.

Which is quite a coincidence.

Or maybe not, when you think about it.

Which makes it all the sadder.

But a sad story doesn't always make the reader feel sad.

In fact, sometimes a sad story makes the reader feel better.

I think Aristotle said something about that.

But maybe now I am just showing off.

Kate also shows off.  She always mentions famous people she
has met.

Which is strange in a solipsistic novel.

Well, a solipsist shouldn't even write a novel.

Who would read it?

I read it.

And I wasn't sad I read it, even if it is a sad novel.

You probably won’t be sad either.

I mean you won’t be sad about reading the book.  Although you
might be sad about other things.

But that won’t have anything to do with David Markson’s book.

Ted Gioia writes on music, books and popular culture.  He is currently
writing his ninth book,
Love Songs: A Secret History.

Published May 11, 2013
David Markson's Infinite Regress:
A Solipsistic Novel Finds a Reader


An Essay on Wittgenstein's Mistress
in the Style of Wittgenstein's Mistress

by Ted Gioia
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