The first part of Forgetfulness is a fictional monograph on the life of the Austrian modernist composer Anton von Webern (1883-1945).The collage-work monograph unfolds in a Webernian sequence of events and silences combining quotes from Webern, his friends and associates, and various historical and literary figures with short scenes, monologues, dialogues, newspaper articles, and theater and film scripts. The result is a lyrical panorama of early twentieth century Vienna.
The second part of the book takes place in Vienna on May 1st, 1986, shortly before the election of Kurt Waldheim as President of the Austrian Republic and shortly after the Chernobyl disaster. The three simultaneous, intertwining monologues of an archivist, a retired opera singer, and the author of the monograph, revisit the themes and events of the first part, commenting on postwar conceptions, analyses, and revisions of the period during which Webern lived, while continuously haunted by the specters of Waldheim and Chernobyl, the persistence of crimes that are immanent, unpaid for, or only dimly, disingenuously recalled.
Michael Mejia is the author of the novels TOKYO and Forgetfulness, and his writing has been published in many journals and anthologies. A recipient of fellowships from the NEA and the Ludwig Vogelstein Foundation, he is editor in chief of Western Humanities Review, co-founding editor of Ninebark Press, and a professor of creative writing at the University of Utah.
Mosaic novel exploring the life and afterlife of Austrian composer Anton von Webern, organised in an intentionally atonal manner, i.e. a deft weaving of various styles and fragments that keeps the reader opaquely wafting around the main figure, craving an intimacy and understanding that never coheres, matching the elusiveness of the man and the music.
--oh, brilliant. A novel that did not sacrifice concept while often simultaneously managing a stunning beauty at the level of the line. Mejia's is a rich sense of place, shot through with humor, replete with thoughtfulness, clearly in service to a minimalist aesthetic; melancholy, lovely read.
Thoughtful, experimental and interesting, there is a lot to commend this book, though it just didn't really ever fully mesh with me. While their were moments of humor, kindness, caring, thoughtfulness and progression, it felt, too often, like an intellectualization of an idea that needed more of a human touch. Not that it is overly intellectual, as it is definitely approachable, but that the intellectual aspects felt, at times, simply a little too cold.