Dressed Up Postmodern Metafiction
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The first book of Auster's New York trilogy was originally published in 1985, and in 1994 was adapted into this graphic novel. I've never read the original (or any of the other parts of the trilogy), so I can't comment on Karasik and Mazzicchelli's adaptation. However, I can say that since I'm not particularly fond of existentialist or postmodernist literature (those two terms being the most common critical shorthand for Auster's story), this really didn't do anything for me at all. The story is basically an exercise in metafiction, and if you like that stuff, great -- I do not. It is dressed up (at least initially) in the mystery genre, but that's just window dressing. (There's a long legacy, especially in France, of cloaking novels and films of ideas in genre trappings (for example Alain Robbe-Grillet's two books The Erasers and The Voyeur, or the films of Jean-Pierre Melville.) The story begins fairly straightforwardly: a reclusive writer of potboiler mysteries named Daniel Quinn lives in New York on his own since the death of his wife and son. A complete stranger calls him and thinks Quinn is a private detective named Paul Auster and begs him to to take his case. (The writer Paul Auster, and his family, shows up for one scene -- it's that kind of book.) Quinn meets with the strange man, who was raised in rather harrowing circumstances by his professor father, who was seeking to discover the true language of God. The father has been released from jail and Quinn is supposed to keep an eye on him and report. Everything starts to derail when he loses track of both the old man he's been following, and his clients. He spends several months watching the building and going crazy. Once he realizes they've disappeared, he finds his own life has disappeared as well. Obviously this is all somewhat about identity, but it's more about fun stuff like language, representation, and other tiresome postmodern subjects (as are the other two parts of the trilogy, which involve a man spying on someone, and yet another disappearance). It has to be said that the artwork does an admirable job of treating the bizarro world Auster has thrust his characters into. The simple, heavy black and white inking is a perfect match to the material, especially when the representations become less literal and more symbolic. However, if your taste runs more toward things like plots and characters, this is probably not for you. Fans of Auster may enjoy this, but fans of the graphic novel form are probably going to be much less keen.
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Fantastic!
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This is a brilliant adaption of the original book. A really pleasant surprise as often adaptians can kill the original article, but not in this case. Strongly recommend that you have a look at this book.
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Auster is Magic
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City of Glass is an incredible novel. Auster's prose is graceful, and elastic enough to express virtually any idea. It will carry you through the story even if you would rather not go. Auster employs as much subtltety as anyone could stand to impart the profound (and confusing) message of this novel. By the last page, I felt invigorated, perplexed, and grateful. Don't be put off by the ending, the message will be there if you only look for it. City of Glass is a rare book , worth absorbing, and one that will certainly be read and appreciated for many years to come.
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A tale of Two Stories
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I am by far what you would call an acomplished reader. A good book to me is one I can finish, but I am taking a Contemporary Literature class over the summer and was forced to read "City of Glass" by Paul Auster. I must say, Auster has a unique way of not letting the reader understand what the heck is going on. For the first half of the book, I was under the assumption that this was a mystery/detective novel. By the 203 page, it had turned into a book of morals. Auster was addressing how screwed up the world is and how we all play a part in it. It turned into a book about a man that was so out of the norm, the character should not even be allowed to comment on what he thinks is right or wrong. The Daniel Quinn from the beginning of the book is a different person by the end, which can only make the reader wonder, what was Auster trying to convey to the reader? Or was this just something I, as a young student of literature, have missed...
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Three Stars BUT What a UNIQUE read
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Before you get too excited from reading the other reviews, I will offer some words of caution. The ending is weak. It is that simple. (Ending defined as the last chapter or two.) Auster offers beautiful prose and the book reads quickly. It is intriguing, but when I finished it was as though Auster had written himself into a corner. All his brilliant questions could not be solved. A novel does not need to answer everything. Leaving the reader to think is good, but Auster at second glance seems to lead the reader on knowing he cannot fulfil the experience with a proper ending. Yet, in some ways that is his point. The book is worth reading if you have never encountered Auster before or read any existentialistic novels because then the book will be unique. Yes, unlike anything you have ever read before. I have read of all of Auster's novels - except Timuktu which is just out - and they all seem to have this problem except for Mr. Vertigo. Go to Auster for fancy prose. He is great at it, but do not expect a fulfilling ending.
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