Number 8 - Burning Boy - Paul Auster

 

Continuing the theme for this month of biographies, this is Paul Auster's massive tribute to the life and works of Stephen Crane.

I'll admit that I had no idea who Stephen Crane was before I picked this up (although I did know there was a book called Red Badge of Courage, it would have foxed me in a pub quiz if asked who wrote it). That ignorance is now well and truly shattered and Crane has been added to my reading list for later in the year (either in my new writers month or short fiction month).

Crane died heartbreakingly young at the age of 29 in 1900. He left behind a fair sized bibliography for a man so young. Auster goes into detail on the circumstances behind the most auspicious of these writings.

I will admit that the only reason I bought this was Paul Auster's name on the cover.  The sheer size of this book has been intimidating me in the months since I found in the sale section of my local Waterstones. For an idea of how big this book is, see the next photo, where this is the size of my previous three books combined.

This book is a love letter from Auster to one of his own literary heroes. Auster makes the case for Crane being the inventor of modernism in writing, and therefore responsible indirectly for so much current literature.

His love for the subject matter shines through on every page. there are so many facts and figures and quotes thrown at us that it becomes quite dense in places.  

The extracts from Crane's work, and the analyses of why they work is fascinating, and despite the density of the information, this is never a struggle to read and is never boring. Crane comes across as a naïve and occasionally foolish man in his private and financial affairs, but a genius when he has a pen in his hands.

One message that comes through loud and clear is how businessmen have always taken advantage of the innocence of new artists in any field, and the book serves as a cautionary tale in reading contracts.  Despite all the success Crane experienced as a writer, he made very little money from his work because of one bad contract after another.

Auster's prose is uncharacteristically dry, but, as I said, never boring. Despite knowing the outcome of the book, there was still an emotional charge when Crane's death (and his wife's) were described.

This is by far and away the longest piece of non-fiction I've ever read. It's a fascinating insight into the life of an important writer, even as he starts to sink into obscurity. Apparently Red Badge has been dropped from school curricula in the States, (and never has been required reading in the UK to my knowledge) and therefore a new generation of readers are missing out. 

Maybe this book will spark a new interest in his writing.  It has for me, definitely.