Vanishing Point: Not a Memoir [Paperback]

Ander Monson (Author)

Book Description

Release date: March 30, 2010

An adventurous exploration of the "I" in American culture, by the author of Neck Deep and Other Predicaments

 Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.

In contemporary America, land of tell-all memoirs and endless reality television, what kind of person denies the opportunity to present himself in his own voice, to lead with “I”? How many layers of a life can be peeled back before the self vanishes?

In this provocative, witty series of meditations, Ander Monson faces down the idea of memoir, grappling with the lure of selfinterest and self-presentation. While setting out to describe the experience of serving as head juror at the trial of Michael Antwone Jordan, he can’t help veering off into an examination of his own transgressions, inadvertent and otherwise. He scrutinizes his private experience of the public funeral ceremony for Gerald R. Ford. He considers his addiction to chemically concocted Doritos and disappointment in the plain, natural corn chip, and finds that the manufactured, considered form, at least in snacks, is ultimately a more rewarding experience than the “truth.” So why is America so crazy about accurately confessional memoirs?

With Vanishing Point, Monson delivers on the promise shown in Neck Deep, which introduced his winning voice and ability to redefine the essay and “puts most memoirs to shame” (Time Out Chicago).

Editorial Reviews

About the Author

Ander Monson is the author of Neck Deep and Other Predicaments, winner of the Graywolf Press Nonfiction Prize; the novel Other Electricities; and the poetry collections Vacationland and The Available World. He lives in Arizona and edits the magazine Diagram.

Product Details

• Paperback: 208 pages
• Publisher: Graywolf Press (March 30, 2010)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1555975542
• ISBN-13: 978-1555975548
• Product Dimensions: 9 x 6.1 x 0.6 inches
• Shipping Weight: 11.2 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 4.2 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (10 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #820,929 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

More About the Author

Ander Monson is the author of a host of paraphernalia including a decoder wheel, several chapbooks and limited edition letterpress collaborations, a website (otherelectricities.com), and five books, most recently The Available World (poetry, Sarabande, 2010) and Vanishing Point: Not a Memoir (nonfiction, Graywolf, 2010). He lives and teaches in Tucson, Arizona, where he edits the magazine DIAGRAM (thediagram.com) and the New Michigan Press.

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful

5.0 out of 5 stars A fascinating exploration of autobiographical writing June 8, 2010

By David Johnson

Format:Paperback

In one of the opening essays of his autobiographical collection _Vanishing Point: Not a Memoir_, Ander Monson, reflecting on the memoir as a genre, writes, "Very occasionally these individual stories are so striking, conscious, and/or artful that they create a heightened interest: they compel us, they cast that spell over our nighttime hours" (15). Monson's book is likely to do just that for the reader. In essay after essay, he not only explores his own experiences but interrogates the form of the personal essay itself, the "blurred boundaries" (to borrow a phrase from film theorist Bill Nichols) between _non-_ and _fiction_. He strikes a balance between self-aware genre exploration and more open, familiar first-person address, so that one never feels left out of the conversation, even as Monson experiments. Some of these essays originally appeared individually, but I was struck by how coherently they work in the order they're presented, so that unlikely motifs occur--who would have guessed that the world's largest ball of paint could accrue so many meanings (like the object itself, an effect not lost on Monson)? This is a beautiful book, and I would encourage readers interested in the memoir form to read it.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful

4.0 out of 5 stars Distinctive and Interesting April 13, 2011

By Robert M.

Format:Paperback|Amazon Verified Purchase

Ander Monson's Vanishing Point is a very interesting work. A collection of essays, and, as the subtitle would suggest, it is not a memoir. Though then, one would have to wonder what exactly this work actually is. Put simply, it doesn't care. It just is.

Monson explores the concepts of self and the nature of truth, amongst a plethora of other subjects, in his book. These essays are more series of observations about the world more than anything else.

The element that most distinguishes this book from anything else is its print style. It is as much a visual work as it is a literary one. The presentation varies from chapter to chapter, creating a fluid and different look for each section, and the book in general. There are drawings, photos, graphs, snippets, graphics, and other visuals scattered throughout. No two chapters look the same. One has columns that resemble those in newspapers. Another has extremely thin margins, to the point that the text is slightly chopped on the sides, but still easily readable. I have never seen such techniques used deliberately in a work such as this. It certainly distinctive, grabs your attentions, and piques your curiosity.

One of the themes of this book is the nature of the self. If this book had a symbol, it would easily be the asterisk (*). Each chapter begins with one, and sections are separated by them. Here, it neither random nor meaningless.

Monson has an enjoyable writing style. Throughout the text, his sense of humor is easily apparent, and makes the book very readable. Funny asides and anecdotes abound. A very good and interesting read.

5 of 7 people found the following review helpful

2.0 out of 5 stars Maybe this isn't the book, but he has potential. July 9, 2011

By quinceyquick

Format:Paperback

There seems to be this kind of obnoxious movement in contemporary fiction heralded by people like Tao Lin and Noah Cicero, and Ander Monson belongs in this neat little box. The box contains work that I'm pretty sure is largely going to mean nothing in the next decade, works that take after Catcher in the Rye and try to explore a kind of hyper-nihilist world crossed with drug use or alcohol abuse or, more recently, how the internet messes with us. It's very difficult to do this kind of writing right (if it can be done right at all), and the problem is that Ander Monson isn't there yet.

Which isn't to say that he'll never be there. The voice is interesting and he goes for interesting angles, the biggest quirk (that NY Times apparently was all excited about) being how he uses daggers (those little plus signs) throughout the book, where, when the reader finds a dagger, s/he is supposed to go to the book's website and type in the word and is supposed to get an even more elaborate footnote that seems to add an extra dimension to the story. If employed properly, the dagger should introduce the novel to the internet. However, it seems more gimmicky. It would be more fitting or interesting if these daggers led to Youtube clips or mp3 files, but instead they just lead to more text. There is really no reason why the daggers could not have just been endnotes.

The book is a series of essays that are about one thing, but that take really long digressions into the nature of the memoir, theorizing on its importance, its appeal, its relevance to 21st century American life, which sounds interesting. And it is, except that the philosophizing never quite feels like it's getting anywhere. The meta-non-fictive element comes across too strong. The narrator kind of criticizes memoirs and then turns around and writes exactly the kind of memoir he's criticizing, except instead of coming off as profound, it comes across as cute.

It's a good shot, and I'll wait for him to come out with something mind-blowing. And I do encourage people to check this book out, because it's new and interesting. But I have a hard time recommending this one.