Aug 27 ’04
Dear Simso—
Of course you can dedicate that pome to me.44 I’ll be honored.
EVEN IF I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT!!!
Marco Antonio Montes de Oca45 has a poem entitled “David Markson ha salido a comprar una botella.”46
By the way, the titles “Bank One,” “Bank Two,” etc., etc., etc., work well enough — but I assume you’re aware there actually is a Bank One? I write them a check every time I pay my Visa card.
Listen, meantime. Eighteen months ago, the guy who was supposedly doing the essay on me for RCF got in touch, and we had one phone conversation. Last November, a minor coincidence occurred, involving him — not worth outlining here — but I scribbled him a postcard noting same, also asking what was up with the essay. Silence. Four weeks ago, obliquely triggered by a thought of your work, maybe, I sent another card (this being after another nine months). Again silence. I have no idea what it means — rejected, project canceled, the guy’s moved to Katmandu, whatever? But it may be worth your while to inquire at RCF again, if you want. After this latest silence, I thought I’d let you know — with, as I say, no idea what it means or what it’s worth.47
My old (and in many ways favorite) novel Going Down is scheduled to be reissued next spring. Correct that: is being scheduled for then. I exercise caution because it was planned a few times before and always fell into a screw-up.
Otherwise, forgive the scrawl, cheesy paper, etc. For some reason I haven’t been able to confront taking the cover off the typewriter for months. Long hours daily here making notes for a new book — but so many damned aches and pains simultaneously that I feel as if I’m 107 years old. Which is pretty grim when you’re only 103.
Have you and Corey registered to vote in Wisconsin? (For Kerry, I assume?!)
Thine—
David
P.S. Or re: that other writer, maybe, A., he’s just inordinately slow, and B., doesn’t answer mail? What I’ve said is all I know.
44 In a letter dated August 24, I’d told him, “When (I won’t say if) my manuscript is published in honest-to-goodness book form, I will dedicate ‘Bank Four’ to you outright. Unless you don’t want it!” The poem appeared in Bank Book, the chapbook I’d sent him, first, so he had seen it.
45 Marco Antonio Montes de Oca, Mexican poet, 1932–2009.
46 “David Markson Has Gone Out to Buy a Bottle.”
47 I did check in with RCF. At the time, they said that as far as they knew, the essay was still in progress — though it never did appear.
Sept 30 ’04
Dear Simsy—
I am getting so antiquated I cannot remember whether or not I answered your last. Not long ago I spent at least 10 minutes looking for the shirt I’d taken off an hour before — how many hangers and hooks and closets can there be in a one-bedroom apartment? — and then finally discovered I was wearing it!
Who are you again? Who am I writing to?
Lissen, that’s lovely news about a NY reading, and I will, will, will try to see you — lunch or something — will, will, will, will, will. Both of you. Will, will, will, will, will.
Rodya, don’t do it!
Will, will, will, will, will, will, will.
Thine—
David
Nov 10 ’04
Dear Simsy—
Lissen. Re my postcards. See RCF, Barth/Markson issue, Volume X No. 2, Summer 1990, Page 158—sixteen lines up from the bottom, the four-word sentence in the middle of the line.48
Otherwise, I hope neither of you slashed your wrists after the election.49 I was gonna jump off the roof here, but my sciatica hurt too much for me to get over the railing.
Thine—
D.
48 “He writes only postcards.” Beside which I had written in the margin: “Not entirely true!” From the essay, “Markson’s New Way,” by Burton Feldman, in RCF, Summer 1990, Vol. 10 No. 2.
49 George W. Bush was the victor, again.
Dec 28 ’04
Dear Simso—
What cozy holiday plans? Reclusive David? Don’tcha read my books?
Betcha didn’t know Garrison Keillor mentioned my birthday on the 20th neither! My editor expects an extra sale of at least two copies because of same. Biggest event since my bar mitzvah.
Meantime I hope all your 2005 dreams come true. And I will will will see you when you’re here. Will will will will will will will will will will will will.
Hey, be well, both of you.
Thine—
David
Feb 3 ’05
Simsy, you’re a pisser—
You tell me you’ll be in town about 45 minutes, you’ve got sixteen readings, nine maybe-readings, eleven tentative dinner plans — and I should pick any time that’s fine with me!
OK, OK, here’s the deal. Sunday, March 6. Noon. Sharp. Place called Rafaella. On Seventh Avenue (maybe it’s called Seventh Av. South), just two doors above 10th Street, west side of the street. Name Rafaella on a blue awning (maybe some stripes). Noon gives us comfortable time in which without rush you can leave for that later reading, no? Big, campy joint, two rooms — if you’re ahead of me pick whatever location you want — lots with armchairs, even.
But, but, but — do call and confirm when you’re here, eh? Sat., or even an hour or two beforehand on Sun. There’s one remote (I hope) possible difficulty — and who knows what else, when you’re dealing with a 103-year-old wreck?
Done? Done.
Until—
David
P.S. I just may, may still be the guy with the three-month experimental beard — when we are peering around to spot each other.
Feb 14 ’05
Simsy, Simsy—
Re “difficulties”—don’t forget that I’m probably older than your grandparents! Not to add that I’m beset by 3,724 sundry maladies, likewise. But here, now, two weeks and five days off, looks OK. Fret not.50
Meantime, what are all these first-person singulars? Corey is coming, no? (Anyhow, I’ve got to see how he manages to tolerate you!)
Hey — until—
David
P.S. Yes, dingbat, I know who Jorie Graham51 is. But I’ve only known for about 25 years.
50 I continued to fret; sure enough, David eventually cancelled.
51 I had a reading with Graham scheduled for the day David and I were supposed to meet.
Mar 22 ’0552
Simso—
Your card, dated March 12, and postmarked March 14, arrived today — March 21! I’d thought, ah, me, one more lost love!
Hey, thank you for asking about the damnable medical stuff. I’ve now learned that there is a special seminar in third-year med school, entitled, “How to Scare the Shit Out of Patients,” in which my most recent referral MD got an A-plus. But, biopsy or no, I am again given a reprieve. To galumph onward toward senility. Next week: Drooling into my custard.
Meantime I hope I expressed enough delight in the acceptance of your book.53 It’s really spectacular news, and I’m pleased as hell for you. Also glad NY went well, even without grumpy DM.
End space. Too rainy to mail. Hello Corey.
Thine—
David
52 On a card announcing the reissue of Going Down by Counterpoint in March 2005.