Giles Gordon (ed.) — Beyond the Words: Eleven Writers in Search of a New Fiction [1975]

In 1975, at the fag end of the avant-garde in Britain, eleven writers went (had been) in search of a new fiction (for a long time prior). Alan Burns practised the cut-up method in a series of novels (and one collaboration with Burroughs), and dropped from fashion faster than David Bowie could pen ‘Let’s Dance’. His novel, Babel, is the one left in print. Scottish female experimenter (now there is a niche!) Elspeth Davie took a filmic approach to capturing the day-to-day absurdities of life, and never rears her head much in Scotland or in print. Stories have been collected by Canongate in The Man Who Wanted to Smell Books. Eva Figes produced a formidable oeuvre exploring female consciousnesses in a sombre and intelligent manner, although her flat and humourless narrative style has not endured (one novel, Nelly’s Version, is available). Giles Gordon wrote one nouveau roman-lite detective novel in the second person (the mediocre Girl With Red Hair) and edited this volume, damming up after the 1980s for a career as an agent. None of his fiction is in print. B.S. Johnson wrestled with form like no fat man before, leaving a respected legacy, and found himself in print as the future fumbles forward (with thanks to Jonathan Coe’s incredible bio Like a Fiery Elephant). Gabriel Josipovici wondered (and still wonders) what ever happened to modernism, and continues to sculpt innovations while shunning the self-referential modes that followed, his most recent novel Hotel Andromeda fresh from Carcanet. Robert Nye has proven the most prolific, penning fourteen poetry collections, nine novels (some in print), nine children’s books, and two story collections. The word ‘masterpiece’ has been attached to his 1990 novel The Life and Death of My Lord Gilles de Rais. David Plante strove to write out of faith and skirt the unpretentious. He succeeded and still no one calls. Ann Quin cut her life short after completing 20pp of The Unmapped Country, a brilliant fragment of what might have been her masterpiece, a mordant portrait of life in a mental hospital. All her novels are in print. Maggie Ross swapped fiction for the limelight, returning recently with an entirely un-new fiction, The Villa Rogue. And no collection of British experimental work could omit chronic trier Anthony Burgess, whose Joycean imitations M/F and Napoleon Symphony, despite their awfulness, find themselves on the shelves of prominent bookstores. In conclusion? The new fiction was not found. But that is no reason not to read these daring and neglected adventurers. 

Editions: 

Hardback, Hutchinson, 1975.