The Logos

“Bidding to join the company of the postmodern titans who dominated late-20th-century American fiction: Gaddis, Gass, DeLillo, Wallace… A hefty old-school social novel”

― Kirkus Reviews

“In this provocative epic of ideas from de Silva…the result is an original, formidable portrayal of American commerce, where everything—including one’s vision—can be bought and sold.”

―Publishers Weekly, Starred Review

"Mark de Silva is high among the remnant few whose writing still justifies the writing of novels. He has earned this distinction by treating the novel not as a form but as a formative languaging of the world that spins and tilts beneath the reader."

―Joshua Cohen, author of The Netanyahus

“The Logos is an intellectual novel not subject to intellectual clichés; a psychological novel not determined by psychological theories; a complex novel of characters not restricted to characters’ beliefs; and a masterful depiction of the search for an intellectual life not determined by intellectuality, in a time when the intellect has stopped being commonly understood as essential for social life—or even survival.”

―Germán Sierra, author of The Artifact

“The Logos is a seance, a conjuring of unbodily plasmas, blackbox TV metaphysics for the word-made-without-commentary. Flaring outward from a collective dreamwork into the shape of things tocome, The Logos is autoluminescent realism transacted at godspeed, in Panavision. Its truth is the obsequious banality of an infinite soap opera, reeling out the testaments, loop-ing and branching through countless subplots, ad-breaks, sales pitches, product placements, only to lead inevitably back to that perennial cave, Platonistic cinematheque— its resident mirror-gang armed with oxygen masks and image duplicators, waiting on the far side of the psychic screen for you, the literal voyeur, to summon them.”

―Louis Armand, author of The Combinations

“Mark de Silva's The Logos stands with some of the best novels of the century: The Known World, Middle C, and A Naked Singularity. It's a dark mountain with vertiginous switchbacks-it quests to ask why we "love" those who use us, those who feast on our souls.”

―Greg Gerke, author of See What I See