A Sense Of Order

I didn't quite finish Perec's Life A User's Manual on the way back from New Zealand, though I did get through quite a few pages in a rather protracted stop-over at Brisbane. Completion was achieved only yesterday in the quiet spaces between the joyous noises of Family Day, Part 2 here in Melaka, and fittingly so: the high spirits and sheer abundance of the text blending in with the abundance of life and energy generated by our little gathering.

I never really grasped the notion of the constraints that Perec created for himself in putting the pieces of his puzzle together, but that was no obstacle to enjoying his novel. There's plenty on the surface that's easy to grasp and straightforwardly rewarding. I suppose most of all I was struck by his extraordinary lists. It's as if he's trying to inventory every single item that has a place in his fictive Parisian apartment block, in every location therein, in painstaking detail. The effect is strangely illuminating. The possessions of the inhabitants of the various rooms seem to shed light upon their owners, but it's a subtle, indirect kind of light. And the various things also have much to say about the world that at some point created them but, again, it's not said directly.

The fact that the reading of the novel coincided with our moving of apartment added to the resonance of the lists for me. I almost feel inclined to try and list the many, many items, and their provenance, that Noi and I are gallantly attempting to shoe-horn into our new place of residence. The things we possess, mysteriously so at times, say much about us. But I'm no writer so I'll stick to trying to make sure that everything's been cleaned up. That's one of my tasks for the weeks ahead.