The Review of Contemporary Fiction

Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters, by Mark Dunn
reviewed by Irving Malin

Anchor, 2002. 208 pp. Paper: $12.00.

This odd, strangely moving novel, originally published in 2001 by Random House, teases us at first. The title, a girl’s name, suggests a series of letters: l, m, n, o, p. The subtitle tells us that it is “a novel in letters.” Aren’t all novels written in letters? Or is this an epistolary novel like Clarissa or Barth’s LETTERS? Next we are given some definitions: epistolary, lipogram, Nollop, and pangram. Nollop is said to be a nation “21 miles southeast of Charleston”; it “elevates language to a national art form.” The Nollop nation honors “Nevin Nollop, the author of the popular pangram sentence: ‘The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog.’ ” The first letter written by Ella to her cousin Tassie introduces the fact that “one of the tiles from the top of the cenotaph at the town center came loose and fell to the ground.” This descent is a significant event, interpreted by the governing council to mean that the letter, z, cannot be used in communication. Of course, Ella writes that z is usually insignificant; written communication doesn’t exploit or employ it very much. But as the letters continue to fall, the very exchange of information becomes frightening: What if each vowel falls? The entire culture will fade; apocalypse will come. As the novel progresses, letter-writers continue to communicate, using evasive means. But the letters become less and less coherent. Danger lurks everywhere; paranoia reigns. We slowly conclude that without language, without culture—the two are inextricably bound—existence itself is at stake. And we forget that the novel is only playful. Soon we see that a void, a blankness, awaits us. I predict that Dunn will write more dazzling novels that remind of us of Perec and Mathews and Roussel and Abish.