Evan Dara, The Lost Scrapbook (1995)
This book, little read but
hyperbolically praised and cultishly adored by those who have, had
been on my radar for some time, but as it's not available anywhere as
an ebook, obtaining it while outside the US would have been
difficult. I'm going to use my time here to read as many books that
are only available physically as I can.
The back cover copy of The
Lost Scrapbook declares that it “received exactly one
review in the mainstream media. But that review declared The
Lost Scrapbook the most accomplished first novel since
William Gaddis' The Recognitions, from 1955.” I
feel like this statement doesn't prove as much as it's meant to;
“some random dude said it was almost as good as The
Recognitions” doesn't inspire that
much confidence. As it happens, I believe the review in question was
by Tom LeClair, well-known for his writing about postmodern
literature; I read him when I was writing my dissertation, and I take
his opinions seriously. BUT HOW WAS I TO KNOW IT WAS HIM? HUH?!?
What's The Lost Scrapbook
about? Well, there's the question, and to tell the truth, it would
be better to just read it that read about it. According to the back
cover, it's “a story of the shattering of community in modern
America—and a vision of reconstitution,” and THAT is the only
hint you will get. The novel opens with the narrative of a teenage
runaway, whose busy mother seems not to even realize s/he (impossible
to tell) is gone. Then, there's a guy going to meet a guy collecting
fireflies for a promotional video. Then, a guy talking about a
notebook he found belonging to his grandfather. And then...it goes
on like this, for the first three-hundred-ish pages. Vignettes flow
into one another, often in the middle of a paragraph or sentence, and
there are times when you're reading and suddenly you realize, whoa,
I've been reading something different for some time now, and you go
back and it's impossible to pinpoint the exact moment where one
section ends and another begins. There are a few occasionally
recurring characters and events (often obliquely alluded to), but
mostly, the segments stand on their own—and they're quite
interesting, even if they have no clear-cut beginnings or ends.
Recurring topics include musicology, animation, developmental
psychology, advertising, and linguistics, and certainly, the question
of community is addressed. The scrapbook in question, mentioned a
handful of times, was collected by someone's grandfather during his
Depression-era travels, and includes all kinds of pictures and texts
and things that he collected from people all over—a clear metaphor
for the idea of connectedness (and, of course, an analogue for the
novel itself). The fact that it's, um, lost may not be
insignificant. At any rate, all of these stories riff on this main
theme, some in obvious ways, others less so.
We don't get a semblance of a plot
until towards the end of the novel, when all the voices start to
coalesce around a town in Missouri and the company that—people are
starting to think—is contaminating it with toxic chemicals. People
talking about bad things that have happened (maybe because of the
company?), officials issuing denials, townhall meetings, activists,
EPA officials—it really has a cumulative force, and the ending is
very effective.
Above, I described praise for The
Lost Scrapbook as hyperbolic, but I kinda have to take that
back. All of the praise is receives is perfectly due. As much as I
hate agreeing with anyone ever, it must be said: it's a visionary
novel, completely sure-handed, and I've never read anything like it.
Compare it to Pynchon or Gaddis if you must, but aside from the fact
that they're all broadly writing in the postmodern tradition (an
oxymoron?), Dara's work really has nothing in common with theirs. If
we had more of a literary culture, I feel like this is a book that
would be hailed as Important. But in this one...well, it's not
surprising that Dara has to publish his books through his own weird private press
(at least, I think that's what it is?). I have no
idea how you would even begin to market a book like this, but I sure
am glad that it's out there for those who seek it.