You pick it up to read a page or two, ten minutes later you're 70 pages in and an hour has gone past without you noticing.
Plot wise, there's nothing much to it. An old man reminiscing about his life and his marriage, still coming to terms with her loss still ten years after she died in a freak accident on the beach.
What makes this book is the prose and the character of Baumgartner.
We meet him on a bad day. He's trying to get around to phoning his sister, but life keeps getting in the way. From burnt and broken pots to a stumble on the basement stairs, he is not having a good time. This opening chapter is hilarious and moving.
Apparently the book was born when he tried to write a short story (which became chapter one) and he realised there was more to tell.
This may be his last novel as he is battling cancer, but if it is, it's a great finish to a long and distinguished career.
My only gripe about the book is the extremely open ending which I found rather unsatisfying. Although part of that might be that I didn't want it to end.
Some things I found frustrating in The Assault, I thought added to this. It jumps randomly through the two years of his life that it follows. In The Assault, it felt bitty and fragmented. However, this book feels like a cohesive entity. The slices of life here are well chosen, an, more importantly, beautifully written.
Baumgartner is a philosopher by profession, so the book contains a fair amount of his thoughts on the meaning of life and its assorted challenges. This fits in with his character and ties in with the storyline. There's a repeated comparison between the loss of a loved one and phantom limb disorder that really strikes home.
Auster's prose is as magical as ever and the prime cause of the time-thievery.
An ealy contender for best book of the year.
No comments:
Post a Comment