Searching online for the initial reviews of Gerald Murnane's new book, A Million Windows, we were greatly surprised to dis-cover two versions of the cover for this book.
One, yes, but two might just as well be a million.
Or none at all. Given the matrix mind of the Murnane narrator, hyper-aware of each and every detail, in their flux and possibilities of combination, this seems both wonderful and shocking.
Has the play already begun? Even before we imagine this book starts now? A perverse, original singularity snare set for those educated to never judge a book by its cover|s? Even before the book is opened, the fall, again?
A Person Looks At A Work Of Art/
someone looks at something ...