Odd, obsessive and wildly romantic . . . [Monson’s essays] ride against scheme, the strictures of genre and the assumptions of form. . . . Each entry asserts a future for old-fashioned reading, on Monson inscribes with sensual as well as metaphysical reward.”—New York Times Book Review
“A breathtakingly original, thoughtful consideration of what it means to be a reader—or a writer, or a human being. . . . As an essay collection, it’s magnificent; as a love letter, it’s a work of overwhelming devotion and generosity. . . . [Monson’s] words, as usual, are a gift—he is one of America’s best living authors. . . . Letter to a Future Lover is a masterpiece, filled with compassion and brilliance.”—NPR
“Monson writes with an ease and enthusiasm. . . . Letter to a Future Lover finds a million paths to the same point — ‘The loss of things. A species a minute. A book a second.’ — but in doing so, it also enacts the magic of the written word.”—The Boston Globe
“There have been many, many books about reading, but never one like this. . . . Monson is a delightful guide to the pleasures of the page.”—Melissa H. Pierson, The Barnes & Noble Review
“Letter to a Future Lover becomes an invocation from the present to a distant set of readers, the ‘future lovers’ of its title, reminding them, above all else, that we were here.”—David Ulin, Jacket Copy
“Whether playful or strident in tone, a sense of possibility runs through these essays, united by questions of the nature of libraries. . . . Focusing on ephemera and libraries allows Monson to tackle virtually any topic, from his responses to hateful words found in a number of essays with the title “Dear Defacer” to a consideration of time in “Hold On To This Page For 24 Hours.”—The Star Tribune
“[Monson is a] writer who knows the workings of language as intimately as a cleric knows his holy books. . . . Monson knows the cadences and rhythms and syntax that transform the day-to-day into the divine. . . . Every essay is a trial, a chance to engage with the world in a new way.”—Los Angeles Review of Books
“Monson’s vivid, mind-whirling essays add up to a dynamic and idiosyncratic celebration of libraries that expands into a delectably labyrinthine, provocative, and affecting inquiry into nothing less than how we preserve and share human experience.”—Booklist, starred review
“As an eclectic writer, editor and academic, Monson defies conventional continuity to make leaps of connection, not only between paragraphs, but even within a sentence. He continues to challenge the very meaning of meaning, daring readers to come to terms with 'the book, the book about the book,' and the very concept of the library, be it public, prison, personal, seed, digital or abandoned and repurposed.”—Kirkus Reviews
“Amidst much tedious hand-wringing re: the future of the book, Ander Monson not only shows us the way forward but chronicles codex's codes, singing an ode to book qua book, to marginalia and to the margins. A physically beautiful and intellectually thrilling work.”—David Shields
“Ander Monson loves the world with such powerful desperation—even/especially the awful parts—and he loves, maybe even more, all our failed attempts at representation. Being inside his mind for a few hours, being in such close quarters with all that love, is perhaps the greatest pleasure of reading Letter to a Future Lover, but it is not, by a long shot, the only one.”—Pam Houston, author of Contents May Have Shifted
02/15/2015
In this collection of essays on the secret lives of books, as seen through marginalia, sidenotes, personal collections, and reader histories, Monson (English and creative writing, Univ. of Arizona; Vanishing Point) weaves together thoughts on life, loss, lust, libraries, and everything in between—a celebration of bibliophilia in a neat little package that draws the reader in as it considers the wonder of books and their infinite histories. The "letters" (or essays) can be read in any order, as Monson reminds us, each epistle contains its own subtle bit of wisdom. This is a hard book to describe, packed with information and insight on any number of topics, from library catalogs to memory to the days of Biosphere 2. It defies expectation and is much more than memoir or meditation, bringing the reader into an intimate conversation that sparks the imagination with thoughts on what might be. VERDICT As a whole, this experimental and genre-bending work is difficult to categorize for specific readers. It is suitable for academic libraries, particularly those collecting in areas such as creative writing, philosophy, or literary theory, or for readers who enjoy books on the history of the book and libraries in general. [See Prepub Alert, 8/11/14.]—Gricel Dominguez, Florida International Univ. Lib.
2014-11-20
Short essays on libraries, literature and life.As an eclectic writer, editor and academic, Monson (Nonfiction/Univ. of Arizona; Vanishing Point: Not a Memoir, 2010, etc.) defies conventional continuity to make leaps of connection, not only between paragraphs, but even within a sentence. He continues to challenge the very meaning of meaning, daring readers to come to terms with "the book, the book about the book," and the very concept of the library, be it public, prison, personal, seed, digital or abandoned and repurposed. "A library is a synonym for slow, a silent coil into the past's dust," he writes. "Quick transmission of anything here won't get you anywhere." Monson writes of the future reader, even lover, with whom he connects through a book and of the life that you leave behind, not merely in the books that you've written, but the ones you've read: "You get at least two afterlives. One resides in memory, not yours, but another's. You don't get to choose whose. The other is in the disposition and dispersion of your books." These essays are more often playful than impenetrable, though they defy easy paraphrase or analysis. The author suggests early on that readers start with the section called "How to Read a Book," which he places in the middle of this book and which he begins, "Read this first. Or read this last." He later advises to use the book "like a game. Reading is participation, but I want more of you. So mark it up. Annotate a page. Trade a boring essay with another copy." Each reader will have a different experience with the book, which the author suggests is as much the reader's book as the writer's. Writing that requires a receptive readership as flexible as the prose.
