The first of my New York books I read. Took me a while, as I started reading other things after finishing each section. But it was worth it, this slow going, to savour the quality of this unique book. The style is seemingly easy, but spot-on and switches from fast-paced detective to the philosophical/essayistic and the more easy-going narrative of the anecdote. A nice mixture. I liked the fact that Auster entices you all the way towards the end of his stories. You want to know the truth, the final meaning and, bang, there happens to be none. Just like the characters themselves the search for meaning is thwarted and shown to be useless. This is frustrating and stimulating at the same time. Has me thinking of other Austers to read, as well as a number of classics he refers to.

4 November 2009

Penguin Classics, 2006

Originally published as a trilogy 1990


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