Edwin Mullhouse: The Life and Death of an American Writer 1943-1954 by Jeffrey Cartwright

by Steven Millhauser

Book Overview

A parody of a literary biography starring a 10-year-old novelist who is mysteriously dead at 11--from the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of Martin Dressler.

As a memorial, Edwin Mullhouse's best friend, Jeffrey Cartwright, decides that the life of this great American writer must be told. He follows Edwin's development from his preverbal first noises through his love for comic books to the fulfillment of his literary genius in the...

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0679766529
• ISBN13: 9780679766520
• Release Date: April 1996
• Publisher: Vintage
• Length: 320 Pages
• Weight: 0.66 lbs.
• Dimensions: 0.8" x 5.2" x 8.0"

Customer Reviews

Splendidly evocative

Dear God, someone has actually complained that "the problem is that his writing does not refelect the central conceit of the book - that this is a book written by an eleven year old...at no point will you believe this was written by a child." I wouldn't be quite so broken up about this had I not learned just last week that Swift wasn't *really* talking up the culinary possibilities of Irish foundlings in "A Modest Proposal," but as it is I don't know that I have the strength to go on... A fondly remembered girlfriend gave me the (remaindered) hardcover at about this time in 1974, and I was entranced. Myself nine years--almost to the day--younger than Edwin, I nevertheless found the account of a Connecticut childhood in the late 1940s and early 1950s eerily evocative of my own experiences on the other coast, which probably says a bit more about the relative stasis and the enforced conformity in which the surface of the country's middle class existed during that period than about my particular and individual receptivity to author Steven Millhauser's prose. Ah, but it is splendid prose indeed, and summoned up for me the vivid sense of, for example, the classrooms of the period. A more perceptive reviewer than the one I savaged above alluded to Nabokov's "Pale Fire," and that comparison is spot on. Part of the joke is that "Jeffrey Cartwright," who tells our story, is a humorless pedant fit to stand beside Charles Kinbote as a Nabokovian (or for that matter Jamesian) unreliable narrator (and for those who aren't disposed to get the joke, there's the scholarly 1972 Introductory Note by "Walter Logan White"--that year's "John Ray, Jr."), whose approach to his material is that of a dutiful grind of a grad student, as author Millhauser was himself at that time. This is a beautifully evocative and fanciful portrait of the artist at American mid-century. I don't know whether it will resonate quite the same way with readers born after, say, 1956, but given that Jane Austen stays in print even though the grandchildren of her original readership have all perished, I venture to hope that "Edwin Mullhouse" will find new readers throughout this century. Warmly recommended.

Fantasy That Is More Vivid Than Life

I just finished reading the other readers' reviews of this book. I want to add just one more thing. Upon reading the book a second time, I was so involved with the characters that I was actually hoping for a happier ending this time. Of course, no such ending would have been as satisfying as the one Millhauser produced, but my connection with Edwin was so strong that I couldn't help wanting him to triumph.

An amazing first novel

Much of the "stuff" of the novel has been skillfully described in previous reviews here, so, briefly, let me add that since reading this hauntingly mysterious book, I have been gorging myself on other works of the author. "Martin Dressler", and now, "The Knife Thrower and other Stories". And, I don't plan to stop there. It took me some time to catch on to the darkness beneath "Edwin", and I recommend patience on the part of the new reader of Millhauser's work for the pay-off is glorious, enigmatic, enchanted, and eye-opening.

Haunting, witty, masterful

Previous reviewers are right to single out Millhauser's stunningly accurate, beautifully rendered descriptions of the minutiae of childhood--he remembers everything of childhood we've forgotten.More importantly, in his own playful and deadly way, he draws readers into a sinister dance, making us accomplices to the crime at the heart of the book. Among other things, if you're a reader of "real" biographies, you'll likely return to your nonfiction with a slightly different take on the genre. Not that the following statement will win the books zillions of new readers, but, if you love (or at least admire) Nabokov's Pale Fire, be sure not to miss Edwin Mullhouse.

This book is magic. That's all there is to it.

Edwin Mullhouse is the story of a young author who takes his inspiration from comic books and animated shorts, and who was tragically dead at 11 years old. (Nothing is given away here, it's said in the first paragraph.) Millhauser weaves together a tale that, while intently focused, is incredibly reflexive, to the point where the author's intent seems to be to call to attention the art of biography as much as the art of creative writing. The ages of the characters are highly important. If they were older, Rose Dorn and all of Edwin's other obsessions would be out of place. However, we almost understand everything that Edwin goes through, while Jeffrey (the biographer and Edwin's best friend) is left to puzzle it out. Jeffrey's memory is brought into question not by himself, but by his insistance that it is infallible. And, often, it is impeccable at remembering details of early childhood, as far as we know. His intentions are honorable, but just how far can we trust him? The other notable thing in this book is the language. Millhauser's words are vibrant, whether describing a closed down amusement park or a cartoon or the haunting of a writer. Where else can one find a line such as: "And you see, there are all these words, nothing but words, nothing but words, what are these words, and there they are, so that's what you're faced with, words, words..." This book is magic. That's all there is to it.