I received as a birthday present and love it. It lets your imagination run wild with wanting more.

simply, this is the most excellent book i've come across. sophie calle's projects that mix photography and writing, seek to investigate identity, familiarity, and life in creative, direct, and honest ways. she's fascinated with knowing and simultaneously constructing others and herself.

i just saw an excerpt of the work discussed in this book at mass moca in north adams mass. it was amazing. the attention to detail that ms. calle pays is astounding. i can't wait to get the book and i recommend you get it to and see the work in person at mass moca if you get the chance.

Pierre Clastres (1934-1979) was one of the most respected and insightful anthropologists of his day. Chronicle Of The Guayaki Indians (ably translated and with a foreword by Paul Auster) is a vivid and compelling account of his first fieldwork in the early 1960s which included an encounter with a small, unique, and now vanished Paraguayan tribe -- the Guayaki. Clastres followed the Guayaki in their everyday lives, determined to record every detail of their history, ritual, myths, and culture. In doing so he had also created a monument of political anthropology which would commemorate a Native American peoples that was to swiftly pass from scene. Chronicle Of The Guayaki Indians is an important addition to any serious anthropology and Native South American studies reference collection.

an anthropological tour de force that breaks your heart as you witness firsthand the cultural and material desecration of this once proud and self-sufficient tribe. their view of life and death seems the direct opposite of our western way of thinking, and one can only hope that they are right in the end. much credit must be given to the author--and novelist/translator paul auster-- who uncovered the lost, sad truths of this forgotten world. the writing is candid, pure,lyrical, incandescent, potent and non-academic. a haunting, haunting book--it literally speaks truth and wisdon from the grave.

This is a wonderful book and as Auster's points out in the preface it's impossible not to love it. But this is also a sad story about our time. Clastres felt that, how tribes and ancient cultures are doom to dissapear. In a way this book is written with a heart full of melancholy.

I don't know how Neon Lit fared with the rest of the project, but this graphic novel version of City of Glass by Paul Auster is terrific. In a sense it brings the story full circle, because in the original novel Auster used the conventions of the private eye story to explore the issues implicit in film noir : identity, fate, good and evil, randomness, etc. Since many of the great hard boiled dicks first appeared in pulp fiction, it seems only natural to have this most modern (or post-modern) riff on the genre end up back in comic book form, however glorified.

Actually, Auster himself indulges in so many games with language, shifting identities and allusions to other works that the comic book format is especially well suited to his playfulness. And, like William Goldman's Princess Bride, that sense of fun serves to lighten what can often be most ponderous in post-modern literature, the way in which its practitioners act as if their metafictional techniques are revolutionary and profound. This work is such a throwback that it unabashedly wears its antecedents on its sleeve; never mind the obvious nod to mysteries of the 30's and 40's, it even goes so far as to discuss Cervantes and his metafictional innovations in Don Quijote.

I tend to doubt that Paul Auster's brand of existential musings will appeal to all tastes and I'm sure some will simply find the idea of reading a comic book to be beyond the pale. But if you're an Auster fan, a private eye or noir enthusiast, or just haven't outgrown comics generally, it's well worth tracking down a copy. I realize it says more about me than I should be comfortable revealing, but I actually think the best part of the book is the section on the criminally insane Professor Stillman's religious theses--they're frighteningly close to my own views and make for quite compelling speculation, adding to what is already a fun and unusual reading experience.

GRADE : A

The real magic here is that, in reworking Paul Auster's original novel, Karasik and Mazzucchelli have done what so many had deemed impossible: they have produced a true literary adaptation in comics form. This is no "Classics Illustrated"; this is a comic that strengthens its source material rather than diminishing it. The original book's concern with the gap between language and meaning is given further depth and resonance in the comic, which finds a visual language equivalent, and does it in a way that no other medium could have. This is no mere illustrated text, but comics as a formidable language and medium in itself. Interestingly, when the original book and the comic are read together, the comic itself almost becomes a physical character, another in the story's proliferation of literary doubles.

I'm reading The New York Trilogy right now. It seems to focus on the lives of authors--how rapt in observations they are. How they might feel that being observed themselves is the only way to prove that they exist--and to validate what they do all day--observe. That said, This comic book / graphic novel brings us an author, Daniel Quinn, caught up in role playing as a detective, sent to observe an old man (who is himself an author). The old man has a wild theory about Adam and pre-language and feral ch

Vintage, the publisher, should feel deep, dark, spooky shame for letting this remarkable book go out of print. The reviewer below is misguided in his or her belief that there are more than a few clunkers among the translations: hogwash. Wilbur's rendition of "Le Pont Mirabeau" is an exceptionally musical version of an exceptionally musical poem, and approximates beautifully the Whistleresque mood. To critique Pound's translation is like saying "Damn the Moon, it's full of holes." Sure, but its the Moon. On the whole, this book gets it right, offering an interesting selection of poets and translators (just as there is more than one kind of poet, so too are there different, and equally valid, forms of translation). Seek it out till Bertlesman come to their multinational senses.

Paul Auster chose his poems well, and the bilingual presentation, format, and ordering of the poets are all clear and easy to follow. It's wonderful to have this access to modern French poetry in English. There are two problems, however: First, there are hardly any women poets (I think 1 out of 50 - the unrelenting masculine viewpoint gets tedious, like being trapped in a cigar-smoke-filled men's room). And second, some of the translations are graceless and inaccurate. Mr. Auster's secondary goal was to choose among already-existing translations by American and British poets. Many of these ruin the mood, parallelisms and imagery of the poems. For instance, Apollinaire's "Mirabeau Bridge" is tortured into English rhyme, destroying all subtlety. Milosz's "November Symphony" has had a meaningless name change to "Strophes" by Ezra Pound, who, if he was going to re-name it, should have called it "Truncations", since he seems to have gotten tired and omitted the last third of the poem. All in all, though, I'm very pleased to have it.

The book is in many ways a fascinating voyage into and around the thoughts of Paul Auster and the processes that take place when he writes. Unfortunately, too much space is spent on retelling small coincidences, which lose their power and magic after being repeated, they become bland, everyday events. The interviews make it all worth while though. Austers eloquence and openness make for informative reading.

Lei este libro de Paul Auster en tres noches. La historia de Jim Nashe y Jack Possi me parecio intrigante, sorprendente y muy facil de digerir. Lo unico que no me gusto fue el inesperado final, pero aun asi este libro me parecio lo suficientemente delicioso como para retormarlo cada vez que tenia tiempo.

I bought this title as a long time fan of Auster and also of the two films. It is the first and only screenplay book I have bought as I find them generally redundant, always inferior to the film, and usually not very readable. Firstly, the screenplay, written by Auster is very readable as the film is mostly dialogue and as such flows nicely, even as a script, not bogged down with description of actions, or camera angles. If you are a fan of the film, there is little new here, though there are a few lines of dialogue that weren't in the final cut. The transcript of Blue in the Face is exactly what you see on screen as this film was mostly improvised. Auster also includes his lengthy notes to the actors about their scenes and this is enlightening as it shows which ideas made the film and which ones didn't, and of those that made it, which ones worked or not. There is also an in-depth interview with Auster about the two films which is very good indeed and is both informative and witty. Finally, there is the original short story "Auggie Wren's Christmas Story" which was the original inspiration for "Smoke" If you've seen the film, you'll know the tale but it is great to see the original version in print, and interesting to see how it made the tarnsition to the screen. All in all a very worthwhile and highly readable collection.

The World That Is The Book: Paul Auster's Fiction by Aliki Varvogli (Lecturer in English and American Literature, University of Dundee) is a thorough study of the fictional works of Paul Auster, including "The New York Trilogy," "Timbuktu," and much more. A scholarly, college-level study of the long-lasting meaning behind Auster's classic works, The World That Is The Book recognizes and pays respect to the sources Auster used to challenge the traditional uses of the written word and the role of literary genre. The World That Is The Book is very highly recommended reading for those who seek to better appreciate Paul Auster's literary work.

Autobiography -more often truer to form than substance- seems to repeal one's pretensions concerning identity while legitimizing a sense of purpose. Paul Auster's "Invention of Solitude" is perhaps one of the very best ever written: If Henry Adams attempted to offer credence to his generation than Auster is the heir apparent for the 20th c. Arranged in two parts, "Invention" and "Book of Memory," the novella-length memoirs center around two themes; familial and personal loss. The passing of a father whose mysterious motives and outlook later occupies the subplot of a mystery and the author's search for its truthful sources in "Invention," while the second (written when the author was at an all-time low) is a meditation upon his own son, which is interwoven with study of Collidi's Pinnochio and, ostensibly, Jonah. Auster is as much at home quoting a Judaic scholar as Pascal, Tolstoy or a close acquaintance. Together the book solidifies the relations while offering amazing insights for anyone who has suffered and expereienced a sense of conviction in wake of tragedy of loss. This is an astonishingly mature and compassionate book, one which I have never found anyone to whom I could not recommend.

The missing father, the poignant chance events, the lonely writer, the meaningless world that seems far too fraught with meaning: these are the themes that wind themselves through Paul Auster's novels, surfacing and echoing one another in the lives of his diverse characters. With Invention of Solitude Auster has stepped out of fiction for a moment and examines his own life. And here the same themes are reflected. In the unsearchable life of his distant father presented in Memoir of an Invisible Man; in the stories of chance and fate that haunt his alter-ego, A, through the Book of Memory; in the life that eventually adds up to Paul Auster. The book is particularly recommended for writers or potential writers, for its unglancing depiction of solitude. Not only the physical separation, but the spiritual and mental as well. To end with this.

I read some four or five novels by Auster and nothing got beneath my skin more then The Book of Memory, a second part of Invetion of Solitude. The humour, the style, the twists and obvious but secret connection to quotidian life and biographical facts, tasted like a delicious cake. A cake one doesn't eat at once but rather chip by chip, like a gourmet, to get all the 'prana' from Austers words. I especially like his interest in tangible life, the life around us (that of course is within us-that's why a Slovenian guy like me can like his writings). The only time i got bored is when he gets into the baseball. For such a stuff one needs to be closer to America, which I'm not. So, if you still wonder wheather you'll like Auster or not, just grab one of his books and let him take you to the rich and beautiful trip of imagination

When I started reading Moon Palace by Paul Auster I expected to be very bored because I thought M.S. Fogg's life story would never become interesting for me. But I was surprised that it was so easy for me to get into the story and after a while I constated that I really enjoyed getting to know more about the devellopments in Marco's life. The topic of coincidence leads trough the whole story, and when you think there is no way out for Marco, Paul Auster offers an unexpected new way. The complicated situation of Marco's family seems too unreal to me, but I must admit thatI liked the ideas the Author presents in his book. In some parts, the reader needs lots of imagination to get what the author wants to express.
In general I would say that the book is worth reading it, though I would probably not have chosen it on my own( we read it in school). You can find lots of interesting and up-to-date topics in it, so it does not belong to a special kind of books like "love-stories" or "crimes". The story offers many different items so you start thinking about the same things Marco has to deal with, so you can sometimes really identify with him and ask if you would have reacted in the same way.
It is a pity that Marco explains what will happen next right at the beginning of the chapter, so a lot of suspense is taken, even if the story does not get boring when you get to know all the details. With "Moon Palace" Paul Auster offers an unusual but great story full of surprise and coincidence and leads Marco Fogg's life not - like the reader would have expected- to an end but to another perspective for the next steps into his future.

Typical Auster: strong line writing, well-defined characters, coincidence-heavy plot, a nonexistent ending. The latter two separates Auster from the pool of countless other "literary" authors. Nobody else has Auster's uncanny ability to evoke the desperation of loneliness.

This is a strange novel, but if you've read Auster before, it's going to feel as familiar as that pillow you sleep under every night. There's this guy named M.S. Fogg, he's an orphan, and all sorts of crazy things happen to him, some by his doing, some by coincidence. The density of Auster's plot is staggering; the entire story of Effing, a character Fogg meets, could easily have been another book. That whole section almost reads like a Reader's Digest version of a bigger book, but I didn't mind at all. I don't mind efficiency when it's done right.

Don't expect much from the ending. It just is. If you expect a nice tidy package at the end, you're gonna be disappointed. Just take it for what it is.

This is my third Auster, already having read "In the Country of Last Things" and "The New York Trilogy." I love them all. I'm also a fan of Haruki Murakami, and I highly recommend you check out his books if you like Auster. They have striking similarities: both tend to utilize an unsure unwilling first person voices (faux noir, almost), work with weird plots, have coincidences aplenty, and have nonstandard endings.

- SJW

In search of a good mystery I went to the Edgar Awards to find an author with whom I was unfamiliar. The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster was unavailable, so I picked up Moon Palace instead.

I finished the book in one sitting. It seems to be more than a novel or stories strung together to tell a tale, but rather a grouping of real and beautiful pictures orchestrated with words. There is a sense of loss at its end, as if people you have known are now, once more beyond reach. It is one of those books that you wish you had only just begun, or that it was three times longer in length.

I'll go back to the book and read it again and I will read the rest of Auster's work.