Video killed the novelist star; also, yet more rambling about Mark Z. Danielewski, and experimental literature

Here's a little video interview with Mark Z. Danielewski. Kind of neat. Interesting fact: each page of Only Revolutions apparently contains 360 words. Which makes sense once you look at the book, and I'm surprised I hadn't guessed so on my own yet. (Via.)

Also, Scott at Conversational Reading calls some BS. Like the current commenters, I disagree that some of his selections are "experimental" books. Infinite Jest, yes. (Though, as per my recent musings, I think it was the quality of the writing--sentences!--in that book, when they were at their best, that was what made the book most interesting--far more so than silly footnotes about the names of drugs.) The Corrections, not so much. (Though gods lords yes I loved that book, and I liked what he did with the pacing and structure of the story, I'd be hard pressed to say it's a truly experimental text.) What I got through of Underworld some years back didn't scream experimental to me, nor has what William Vollmann I've read (which is admittedly extremely little). And while I don't know Scott Erickson's work I would not hesitate to add Steve Erickson's name to the list, whose Our Ecstatic Days was phenomenal, nevermind the fascinating playfulness of his entire back catalogue. Also, most recently, and obviously: The Exquisite by Laird Hunt. (Which I still am recovering from, though I think I'm almost there. Believe you me: not reading a book for an entire week feels downright queer.)

Whatever my thoughts on Scott's list, though, I do agree that I think there's far more experimental literature (however one may choose to define "experimental") out there than the reviewer Scott quotes gives credit for. Of course, at the same time, I do find that House of Leaves felt like a thunderbolt. Or maybe like a buckshot to the emotional gut. If for no other reason than that book felt more fun to read than many other books I'd read up to that point. I do think the quality of the writing and the experimentation in that book do things few other books do. It found its own (literal and figurative) space to exist in.

All of THAT said--I've no interest in the possibly logical outcome of these ramblings, which is seeking an accurate definition of what is and isn't experimental literature, what elements comprise an experimental work. Scott's got something different in mind with his list than I do with mine. And that's cool. But I'll stick with an "I know it when I see it" idea of what it is.