In the first days of spring in his eighty-second year, Gerald Murnane began a project that would round off his strange career as a novelist. He would read all of his books in turn and prepare a report on each.
What The Reviewers Say
Dustin Illingworth,
The New York Times
... these brief, mesmeric reports describe a kind of spiritual topography every bit as rich and enigmatic as [Murnane's] celebrated fictions.
Merve Emre,
The New Yorker
... gives us the lifetime of Murnane’s writing.
Susan Francis,
Arts Hub
The title of this, supposedly final book, suggests a theoretical distance. Perhaps, some critical discourse about Murnane’s body of work. And yes, there is that. But far more satisfying is when he wanders off chasing his own thoughts, tracing the path of his ‘constellation of ideas’ onto the page.
Emmett Stinson,
The Guardian (UK)
The essays in Last Letter are neither literary criticism nor memoir. They ruminate instead on unexpected connections between books, ideas and the specific life experiences that informed his writing.