Paul Auster's "Sunset Park" -- The First 70-something pages...

The First 70-something Pages:
I am a fan, I am not going to lie; nevertheless, to categorize "Sunset Park" as anything but the almost perfect novel would be a disservice.  How can this man continue to produce books as good as this one is right up there with the mysteries of the Great Pyramids.  I know it all sounds hyperbolic, but I contend that with a long list of excellent novels Paul Auster should be considered a national treasure (again, hyperbolic).

"Sunset Park" is a return to the fiction that made him one of the great literary fiction authors, away from meta fictions and mind-bending abstractions.  This return--after much criticism of meta fiction efforts in "Travels in the Scriptorium" and "Man in the Dark"--can be seen to match the Auster efforts in both "The Brooklyn Follies" and "Oracle Night."  This is fiction that is painfully clear, allowing the reader to focus on nuances of language and style without losing the plot in the process.  The third person narrative adds to the detachment Auster is trying to achieve after his most recent works but does not in any way take away from the personal observations of one Miles Heller (first part of the book).  At the risk of sounding a little prude, my only negative observation is that of Miles Heller's relationship with a much younger woman and their "different" sexual activity brought upon by the young woman's fear of getting pregnant.  Aside from this, the first part of the book (first 70-something pages) are both engaging and naturally drawing to the reader.  I have been "milking" the first part of this novel because I don't want to burn off and sky-rocket through it in a day (a task I am able to).  I am savoring more as the pages break, as if in an endless wave-watching meditation.  More to come in the next few days and then on to Christopher Isherwood's Diaries Volume 2 which will be my final book for 2010.

The "Argument/Case" Against Paul Auster

Paul Auster's new book "Man in the Dark" was just recently published. If you know me, and if you visit this blog often, you'd know that this is a life-altering event for me. I am absolutely biased for the Great Master, but I am beginning to notice a trend against Paul Auster that is not only disturbing to me, but also (and from a purely objective stand point) bordering on the Ad Hominem/character assassination. Now, "fair is fair..." but this trend doesn't even reflect an ounce of fairness.

First, Paul Auster is "pound-for-pound" the best contemporary writer today. Most people would probably ask who he is, or how could he be such a good writer and not be rubbing elbows with Dan Brown, Dr. Phil, or Jodi Picoult? The most recent New York Times Book Review issue featuring the review for "Man in the Dark" might prove helpful in deciphering the new trend of Paul Auster Bashing. While the review was not favorable, I tried very hard to look deeply (and objectively) into it to see what the discontent is with this great writer. First, I need to point out that the previous effort by Paul Auster "Travels in the Scriptorium" suffered from the same lack-luster review, mainly based on personal attacks and distorted "artsy" language that tends to be more political than literary. Nevertheless, why would a reviewer risk such a personal attack disguised as an objective review, a review attacking the man, and not the work that is indeed of the highest caliber? Could it be personal and professional jealousy? (And I say this because Paul Auster's wife, Siri Hustvedt suffers from the same poor reviews). Could it possibly be because Paul Auster's reclusive life? (He lives quietly in Brooklyn, NY... he's no Dan Brown or Dr. Phil). Could it possibly be because of his most recent film, "The Inner Life of Martin Frost?" (oh, yes... I suspect that is part of the problem... 'What do you mean? He writes and directs films?'). Here are some other facts that might clear up the argument for or against the fact that other people are jealous of Paul Auster:

1--Paul Auster is admired, loved and considered a 'genius' in Europe. Considering the fact that the French view him as a literary "Second Coming" of sorts should win you enough enemies.

2--Paul Auster is an accomplished film director/screenwriter. "Oh, but I've never heard of his films!" Exactly.

3--Paul Auster has a following within the literary circles in New York. You know, those stuck up artsy types who think they are better than the rest of the world. The interesting fact is that Paul Auster's writing doesn't aim to cater to that group. If you are a voracious reader, and you like to think deeply about literature, then Paul Auster is for you. No artsy attitude needed.

4--Paul Auster's academic essays (collected, among other volumes, in "The Art of Hunger") are of the highest ranking among college professors who want to challenge their students with deep literary analysis. Want to read about The Book of the Dead, Celine, Kafka and Dada? This book is for you.

I realize I must sound like a teenage girl defending her high school "crush" 20 years after graduating. But taking aside the fact that I am a great fan, what's going on in the book review business is simply deplorable. I suppose it has to do with the Global Economy and 21st Century gaga... but give Paul Auster a break! To say he is running out of material is simply a personal opinion, not an objective assessment. When (and I say when because it is a goddamn matter of time) Paul Auster wins the Nobel Prize for Literature, I'll have the last laugh.

Travels in the Scriptorium

Paul Auster's new novel "Travels in the Scriptorium" is an intricate story which questions the power of authorship. Auster is simply a magician that can command not only the reader's attention, but also immerse the reader into the thin line between fiction and meta-fiction. The protagonist is an old man that sits in a room receiving the visits of people he does not remember. The story itself is brought into question when the reader discovers that the people who come visit the old man are old characters in previous Auster novels. They claim that they are the creation of the old man, thus leaving us to believe that the old man is Auster himself now being held to account on his creation and "manipulation" of these same characters. The novel does not suffer lineal breaks despite being experimental (not so much a la Joyce, but in a more post-modern way). As I was reading the novel the question of "what is" became more and more demanding of me. I was quick to turn to Heidegger and his concept of "what is is." If Auster is the old man--which is a conclusion too easy to accept--then what consequence does the author has in producing yet another character which he controls (the old man never leaves the room). Auster runs the risk of being held accountable by the old man in the not-so-distant future. I realize this may all sound like mumbo-jumbo, but the novel itself is a tour through the surreal. I love all of Paul Auster's novels and this one is no exception.

Reading Lolita in Westlake #002

I haven't written anything down about "Travels in the Scriptorium" because I really didn't give too much thought to writing about it. I was primarily engaged in getting the links up for the Paul Auster website, etc. I did enjoy the book a great deal and found it incredibly brilliant and experimental.

About "Lolita..." Last night I read a bit more than I originally expected. I started early, as soon as I got back from work. The narrator is disturbing in his description of Lolita, but there's something complex and totally human about his attraction. In my opinion, his attraction to the "nymphets" stems from his early failed experience at the beach. He tells of this experience and his frustration early on the narrative. The more indepth the reader gets into the narrative, the more experimental language Nabokov uses. The stream of consciousness is aptly used during his journal writing. The scenes leading to the visit to the lake is full of Joycean streams. It is particularly sensory, following the lineal and bordering on the hyper. There some confusing parts. The narrator daydreams of having contact with Lolita and the way he describes is so real that the reader might get confused about whether or not it has taken place. There's no real validation or justification for his pedophiliac inclinations, but there is something deeply human about his distorted views.