Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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14 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Metaficition, not better fiction, 24 Sep 2007
Paul Auster is capable of exquisite storytelling, but I found this one hard work.
Mr Blank finds himself in a locked room, unable to remember how he got there - or much else. Some of the objects in the room have written labels to indicate what they are called. (For those of you who don't recall their Philosophy of Language 101 we're being told to explore the relationship between the physical world and words - and blow me down, it gets even cleverer - occurring in a fictional universe, a construct of language and the author's imagination!)
The cast of characters that visit Blank in his room are drawn from Auster's previous works. Reviewers elsewhere with far more patience and application than me have listed the novels from whence they've all sprung. But essentially, we've got an exercise in self-referencing that may tickle the obsessive pedants amongst you, but will leave those hoping for a good yarn cold.
This should appeal to Auster readers that would list `The New York Trilogy' as his best work (I wouldn't). For me, various goings-on in a locked room have limited appeal, but the book is as well-crafted and readable as one expects from Auster. It also has the redeeming quality of being short: those who enjoy it may re-read it all the sooner and those who do not have little cause to rue too much misspent reading time.
(Anyone utterly captivated by the central conceit of this novel should try the work of John Barth, especially his doorstep-sized offering `Letters'.)
This one wasn't quite my cup of tea, but I'll still give Auster's next novel a go - I just hope he'll be letting his characters get out more.
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21 of 24 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Metafiction, not better fiction, 17 Oct 2006
Paul Auster is capable of exquisite storytelling, but I found this one hard work.
Mr Blank finds himself in a locked room, unable to remember how he got there - or much else. Some of the objects in the room have written labels to indicate what they are called. (For those of you who don't recall their Philosophy of Language 101 we're being told to explore the relationship between the physical world and language - and blow me down, it gets even cleverer - occurring in a fictional universe, a construct of language and the author's imagination!)
The cast of characters that visit Blank in his room are drawn from Auster's previous works. Reviewers elsewhere with far more patience and appreciation for attention to detail than me have listed the novels from whence they've all sprung. But essentially, we've got an exercise in self-referencing that may give tickle the obsessive pedants amongst you, but will leave anyone hoping for a good yarn cold.
This should appeal to Auster readers that would list `The New York Trilogy' as his best work (I wouldn't). For me, various goings-on in a locked room have limited appeal, but the book is as well-crafted and readable as one expects from Auster. It also has the redeeming quality of being short: those who enjoy it may re-read it all the sooner and those who do not have little cause to rue too much misspent reading time.
(Anyone utterly captivated by the central conceit of this novel should try the work of John Barth, especially his doorstep-sized offering `Letters'.)
This one wasn't quite my cup of tea, but I'll still give Auster's next novel a go - I just hope he'll be letting his characters get out more.
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3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Oh Paul, what have you done...., 22 Jan 2008
I am a huge Paul Auster fan. I have all his books and screenplays, and have read and re-read them. So when "Travels in the Scriptorium" came out, I was delighted.
Oh. Dear. Me...
The Sunday Telegraph had this to say about it: 'The ghosts of Kafka and Beckett hover over this deft and ingenious novella ... it draws the reader inexorably into its web of mystery.'
I'd say the ghosts of Kafka and Beckett must be livid at being mentioned in the same breath as this drivel. Deft? Try slapdash. Ingenious? Try confused. Web of mystery? Try goofed up to the eyeballs.
It's disjointed, scattered, lacking in any apparent meaning, and just very, very poor.
Despite this, I await Auster's next offering eagerly, if only in the hope that he returns to his considerable strengths and gives us something as gorgeous as Moon Palace, Mr Vertigo, Oracle Night or the Book of Illusions once more. Please?
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