I enjoyed every aspect of Paul Auster’s novel, The Book of Illusions. It has tragedy, humour, romance, mystery, and a fantastic ending. It’s about a guy who deals with a personal tragedy by obsessively researching the films of an obscure silent-movie actor, and then writes a book about it. Which may not sound exciting, but it’s great. The day after I finished the novel, I went to a used bookstore and picked up two more books by Paul Auster: The New York Trilogy and Moon Palace. I also bought W.P. Kinsella‘s If Wishes Were Horses with the hope of getting back into his writing. However, I began reading Moon Palace during the walk home, and was immediately drawn into it. Not having much time to read, I’m only now on page 88, but so far so good. Auster begins the story by again creating a believable character who experiences a personal tragedy — and it’s been fun watching this sad, unheroic character crawl out of this hole. I don’t know if Auster intended for us to laugh at this guy’s misfortune, but that’s what I’m doing, and I’m having a good time.
I’ll say more in another 100 pages, or whenever I finish the book.
Continued: Moon Palace – Part 2.