Harry Mathews was an American author of various novels, volumes of poetry and short fiction, and essays.
Together with John Ashbery, James Schuyler, and Kenneth Koch, Mathews founded and edited the short-lived but influential literary journal Locus Solus (named after a novel by Raymond Roussel, one of Mathews's chief early influences) from 1961 to 1962.
Harry Mathews was the first American chosen for membership in the French literary society known as the Oulipo, which is dedicated to exploring new possibilities in literature, in particular through the use of various constraints and algorithms. The late French writer Georges Perec, likewise a member, was a good friend, and the two translated some of each other's writings. Mathews considers many of his works to be Oulipian in nature, but even before he encountered the society he was working in a parallel direction.
Mathews was married to the writer Marie Chaix and divided his time between Paris, Key West, and New York.
It’s late and I need a little time to let Mathews’s charming and meaningful vignettes seep into the right side of brain—as in correct, not the opposite of left—before I pass comment (or into sleep). Over the years 1983-4, pivotal in Mathews’s life, and in literary history, the American Oulipian wrote twenty lines per day, based on an old Stendhal quote. During this time seminal OuLiPo members Georges Perec and François LeLionnais passed away, and these short entries touch upon the sadness in his life and the horror of trying to write through it all. It’s the highbrow equivalent of Blogger, more or less. Some entries are ponderous, some funny, some random, some moving. Towards the end he overeggs the second person, but who’s complaining? This brisk book is expressive and charming.
Отчасти дневник, отчасти автоматическое письмо, отчасти стихотворения в прозе, отчасти размышлятельные заметки (то, что называется pensées, включая рассуждения о миктурировании и дефекации) человека между двумя культурами (как и мы все), - но все это не вполне. Если поставить себе урок каждое утро писать по 20 строк, борясь с писательским затыком (чем, очевидно, Мэтьюз и занимался по завету Стендаля), такое вот и получится. Небезынтересно, особенно анекдоты и притчи, которые он там иногда рассказывает. Ну и про писательский быт УЛиПо вообще - как раз, когда он писал "Сигареты" (иногда в поезде, но неизменно с кайфом). В общем, прекрасный образчик женитьбы алгебры с гармонией.
Harry Mathews is great. Sort of the phantom figure of American literature for a man who is basically or almost French. A close friend of Georges Perec, Mathews decided to write for a certain period of time 20 lines a day. Which makes this the ultimate writer's book. Almost a guide book of sorts. Personal journals are one of my favorite types of literature. It is nice to get into this writer's head and see what makes him tick-tock.
In 1983, Harry Mathews decided to follow Stendhal's directive of writing twenty lines a day, genius or not. Unlike Stendhal, Mathews' efforts were not part of a larger project, such as a novel or collection of poems. Rather, he dedicated a single pad of paper and wrote what is, in essence, a journal over a 15-month period.
Mathews was part of the Ouvroir des Litterature Potentielles, or OuLiPo, a group of writers based mostly in Paris in the 1860s and 1970s. OuLiPo writers use some form of artificial constriction in their writing to help trigger ideas and inspiration, such as avoiding the use of the letter "e" or using "stiles". 20 Lines A Day isn't strictly an OuLiPo work, but it does appear Mathews often used the exercise as a way to "warm up" for the day's chief writing.
What is left is part biography, as Mathews often reflects on the day's events or issues. He was working on his brilliant novel, Cigarettes, at the time and also was still grieving over the loss of his best friend, Georges Perec. Throughout, Mathews resides in a world in which ideas matter for their own sake, sometimes to the point of being nearly sterile. At one point, I was reminded of a verse from Paul Simons' "The Dangling Conversation", minus the melancholy of a disintegrating relationship:
We speak of things that matter Words that must be said "Can analysis be worthwhile" "Is the theatre really dead?"
Eventually, Mathews begins to alternate between writing in the 1st person to the 2nd person, as if he is switching between writing for himself and at or to himself. In the latter state, he seems an unrelenting critic of himself.
In all, 20 Lines a Day is a fascinating glimpse inside the everyday mind of a writer, well worth the effort it takes to read.
Sin contar la idea de la que parte, la mayor virtud de este librito es la sinceridad. Se nota que Matthews es un buen escritor, porque tiene líneas y momentos perfectos, pero a veces se pone aburrido. Hay además, algunos ejercicios de escritura automática e ideas para comenzar relatos que están buenos. Lo mejor viene al final cuando empieza a relatar en 2da persona.
Inspiringly simple in concept and execution, an eternally open writing prompt. As any reader must be, I'm tempted to take up the challenge (from Stendahl, of composing just 20 lines each day, no matter what) myself. Of course, Matthews an eloquence and depth from the form that hoists it out of its form and towards a kind of essay-by-vignettes.
Muy buen libro. Como integrante del grupo OuLiPo Mathews aplica una restricción para promover la escritura creativa. Este libro es un ejercicio sugerido por el decimonónico Stendhal: escribir al menos veinte líneas por día, buenas o malas, pero escribirlas sin importar el tema. Lo que ha logrado es genial. Mathews llenó un cuaderno de sesenta páginas con una escritura que se desliza entre el diario, la confesión, la crítica y el experimento literario. Como ocurre por lo general con escritores del OuLiPo, su escritura es muy personal, necesariamente arbitraria, siempre recursiva. Se trata de una escritura que se pliega sobre sí misma como un bucle algorítmico. Es allí donde emerge el componente matemático del OuLiPo, en el infinito que se genera cuando un sistema reglado desarrolla un metasistema. En este libro, Mathews pone en evidencia que las reglas extrínsecas no reducen sino que amplifican la poesía intrínseca del escritor. En los intersticios del Mathews ansioso, deprimido, alcohólico, reservado, reflexivo, la poesía narrativa desborda en una elegante desmesura. Queda al descubierto el secreto a voces de la literatura universal: todo es maravilloso, desde lo trivial hasta lo extraordinario, sólo hay que afinar un poco la percepción.
I keep returning to this book, having forgotten its contents each time I do, so I am invevitably surprised and delighted by it. It has the texture of a novel, though it is simply a writing excercise on the face of it. It is a book generative of other works of literature.