In the LARB, interesting review of Lars Iyer’s trilogy, which has just seen the publication of its final volume, Exodus. What strikes me about this quote from the review is how all the reference points for Iyer’s voice are philosophers/theorists:
Spurious also introduces the singular construction of Iyer’s books. Lars is the narrator, but his speech mostly consists in reporting what W. has said, and how W. has insulted him. Frequently the voices blur together. In this, Iyer’s writing recalls an alternative lineage, of stylistic experimentation in the history of philosophy: Nietzsche’s neobiblical fables, Kierkegaard’s split personas and alter-ego arguments, Blanchot’s fictions and blending into other writers. These are all innovations towards nonliterary ends, towards producing rather than transmitting thought, and putting into practice specific intellectual projects. And although Iyer parodies the grandiosity of such figures, in a small way he is part of their tribe.
This seems to say something important about the direction creative writing has been moving of the past couple of decades, as well as what kinds of literary voices seem most suited to describing our experience of the world, and where these voices emerged from.
Though, for all that I agree with here, I think that this sentence misses the point of what Iyer is up to: “And although Iyer parodies the grandiosity of such figures, in a small way he is part of their tribe.” Contra David Morris’ very smart review, parodying these figures is a way of declaring his allegiance to their tribe, just as it is for Enrique Vila-Matas.