In the first days of spring in his eighty-second year, Gerald Murnane -
perhaps the greatest living writer of English prose - 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. His original
intention was to lodge the reports in two of his legendary filing
cabinets: in the Chronological Archive, which documents his life as a
whole, and the Literary Archive, which is devoted to everything he has
written.
As the reports grew, however, they themselves took on the form of a
book, a book as beguiling and hallucinatory, in its way, as the works
on which they were meant to report. These miniature memoirs or stories
lead the reader through the capacious territory Murnane refers to as his
mind: they dwell on the circumstances that gave rise to his writing, on
images and associations, on Murnane's own theories of fiction, and then
memories of a deeply personal kind. The final essay is, of course, on
Last Letter to a Reader itself: it considers the elation and
exhilaration that accompany the act of writing, and offers a moving
finale to what must surely be Murnane's last work, as death approaches.