"Where do we go from here? / The words are coming out all weird"

Damn. The Exquisite ruined me a little, I think. I mean, I was on a pretty good run of books before I read that one, and it was good because I needed a really pretty good run, but then to get blown out of the water by one, I dunno. I look at the shelves and it's like, what have you other books got to offer me, right now, where I am? Maybe we'll be friends later, but not right now. Not just yet.

That said, Mark Z. Danielewski's Only Revolutions came out yesterday. I don't have it yet, but I will soon, because whether or not I'm ready for it, I need it. Likely is, if you know who he is by now, you already know whether you need it or whether you emphatically don't need it. Actually, you probably know whether or not you need it based on whether the thought of extremely experimental fiction gives you joy or fear. I expect the book will change few minds.

That said, if you are still on the fence, I doubt this article is going to push you one way or the other. Basically all you learn is that, hey, Danielewski has the gall to not be his characters. Shocking! Also you learn he maybe thinks highly of himself. Shocking!

The article does sort of dance around a good point, one that's pretty crucial from my perspective: for all the high-falutin' intellectual hooha Danielewski offers, it's the unfatigued imaginative spirit of House of Leaves that makes it an indubitable winner for me. To try to explain: He does all sorts of layout stuff in that book, sure, and it's all good clean fun, but none of it means anything on its own. The fact that he uses these techniques to further a story (made of stories) in interesting new ways is part of what makes it worth something. That all of it is built up out of good strong sentences--oh yes, those basic building blocks of all literature, sentences with voice and meaning and tone and implication--that's what makes the magic happens. It's the voices of Johnny Truant and Zampanó, the play of their stories off each other, that goes farthest for me in creating the illusion of depth within the novel. The sense that there are unfathomable distances between the pages that are left to be explored. Or run from.

Also it certainly doesn't hurt that Danielewski's got the coolest autograph ever. Seriously, you can look at my copy of the book, but keep your hands off. I'll cut ya.

Also it doesn't hurt that the story is just spooky as hell.

Also, come on: Poe. Someone stirred in an extra helping of hot when they were cooking up that family's cup of the gene pool. Haunted, people. Check it. One of the best albums of the decade. Try to fight me on this one. I dare ya. I'll cut ya.

I digress.

To go back to sentences--it's the same thing going on in The Exquisite. The structure of the book is pretty fascinating, and is what gives it its experimental edge. But there is something really unique going on with the voice of the narrator there. A certain shiftiness or slurriness to the voice on a sentence-by-sentence level, as if there's something really multipronged about the guy's mindset. But then that's just one more thing I look forward to paying more attention to next time I read the book. Once I, like, learn how to read again.