I just recommended this book to someone stranded in the Minneapolis airport. I had forgotten how much I liked it until I saw it sitting there quietly on the shelf, minding it's own business.

This is why real books are so much more awesome than ebooks--they come back to tickle your mind. That, and when you spill wine on them (like I did on my copy of The Book of Illusions) they don't give up the ghost in an electric funeral.

Anyhow. Take that, Minneapolis.

უკომენტაროდ , უმაგრესია❤

"არსებობს ფიქრები,რომლებსაც შეუძლიათ შეშალონ ადამიანი,მახინჯი ძალმოსილების აზრები,გაფიქრებისთანავე რომ გხრწნიან.მეც მეშინოდა იმის,რაც ვიცოდი,მეშინოდა რომ ამ ცოდნის გამო საშინელების განცდას ვერ მოვიშორებდი,ამიტომ იმ ფიქრების სიტყვებად გარდათქმა არ მინდოდა და თავს მანამდე ვარიდებდი,სანამ სიტყვებმა ჩემზე ძალაუფლება არ დაკარგეს."

Intelligensen megírt, sokrétű, komoly értelemben vett játék. Első olvasásom Austertől, akiről minden ismerősöm, aki csak olvasta, nagy tisztelettel beszél. Nem bántam meg, hogy elolvastam, szeretem az ilyen okos játékokat, a matrjoska-történeteket, főleg ebben a stílusban megírva.

Csak hát az van, hogy nem tesz hozzá semmit az életemhez. Én meg valahogy azt várnám, hogy ha egy regény rákerül az 1001 könyv listájára, az csináljon velem valamit. Fordítsa ki egy kicsikét a négy sarkából az életemet és/vagy a személyiségemet. Erről a regényről semmi ilyesmit nem lehet elmondani.

Az illúziók könyve legfeljebb megerősít abban, amit korábban is tudtam. Még csak nem is olyan dolgokat fogalmaz meg, amelyeket korábban képtelen lettem volna elmondani. Emiatt pedig sajnos elég kiszámíthatónak bizonyult. Amikor az első beszélő nevű szereplő felbukkant, bennem már szólt a vészcsengő, és bumm, tényleg az történt a végén az illetővel, amire számítottam. Ne má. Ráadásul még keserű szájízt is hagyott maga után a sorsa. Nem szeretem az ilyen "direkt X kedvéért van benne" szereplőket. Amíg olvastam, lekötött, főleg a némafilmekről szóló rész* - de amikor letettem, legfeljebb az inspirált arra, hogy nyissam ki újra, hogy lejáróban volt a kölcsönzési határidő. Ha tanulmányt kellene írnom róla, repesnék az örömtől, ezer és egy témát ki lehetne választani, újabb és újabb rétegeket felfejteni - de minden tanulság annyira nyilvánvalóan ugrik elő a regényből, sehol semmi meglepő, semmi, ami ne lenne precízen kiszámítva.

Összességében: jó könyv, de nem esett volna ki a világ feneke, ha nem íródik meg.

* Aranyos ötletnek tartom, hogy valóban leforgattak Auster ötlete alapján egy némafilmet, jó, hogy megszületett ez az alkotás, de annak, ahogyan Auster ír, ez a képi világ a nyomába nem ér.

Paul Auster is always concerned with ethereal nature of identity and The Book of Illusions is no exception. Some reviewers have mocked his insistence on probing the depths of this subject and even suggested that sum of Illusions is less than its sometimes brilliant parts. I personally found this novel to be breathtaking in its scope, tone and emotional draw. While Illusions does tread on areas of personal identity and oblivion as first sketched in New York Trilogy, it moves into uncharted waters with a complicated plot structure that matches Roberto Bolano's 2666, in a quarter of the Chilean's words, and does so with a seemingly spacious writing style. It also reminded me of David Lynch's Mulholland Drive, which is not surprising because film plays a large role in Illusions.

Our protagonist Zimmer is faced with his own oblivion with the sudden death of his wife and children and his cozy life in academia is thrown askew. A chance encounter with a silent era film star who disappeared long ago sets him on a collision course with the themes of death and redemption and the creation of art as both salve and harbinger of death. There are a multitude of tender moments in Illusions that are beautifully detailed and perhaps, only the conclusion, left one wondering if Auster himself struggled with how to tie together his multifaceted streams of thought.

Auster tells his story through the voice of Zimmer but, like many post-modern writers, imposes doubts about the objectivity of the voice and secondary sourcing that weave through his work like rainy-season tributaries. But, then again, its not called The Book of Illusions by chance. While others found Illusions to be dark and depressive, I found it to be exhilarating, much like Zimmer's transformation from a despondent lost soul to a man with a reason to live.

ბედნიერებაზე ხშირად წერენ. სევდაზეც. თუმცა უიმედო, ყოვლისმომცველ უბედურებაზე ასეთი ლამაზი რომანის დაწერა თუ შეიძლებოდა, ვერც წარმოვიდგენდი.

ეს ილუზიების წიგნია და მასში ყველაზე რეალურ ილუზიას საბედისწერო შემთხვევითობები წარმოადგენს.

ხელოვნების მომაკვდინებელი სიყვარულიც საბედისწერო შემთხვევითობაა, რომელიც დევიდ ზიმერსა და ჰექტორ მანს შორის არსებულ ზღვარს პირადად მე მთლიანად მიშლის.

,,ეს წიგნი ფრაგმენტების წიგნია, დარდის, ნაღველისა და სიზმარ-ოცნებების ნაზავი".

და ჰო, ,,ციებცხელებიანი სიზმარი ყოფილა ცხოვრება, რეალობა - სიმყარეგამოცლილი, ჰალუცინაციური სამყაროა, სადაც ყველაფერი, გონებაში წარმოსახული, შეიძლება გაცხადდეს".

ეს წიგნი არის სიგიჟე!

“ That’s how it always seems to work with stories. One minute there’s nothing. And the next minute it’s there, already sitting inside you.” Wow. Din nou n-a dezamăgit domnul Auster. O scriitură asemenea păpușilor rusești,Matrioșka, despre pierdere, vinovăție, ispășire,artă ca paradox perisabil al nemuririi. O alegorie posmodernă, folosind o onomastică puternic simbolizată: Mann(omul), Alma(sufletul, muza), Zimmer (cameră,izolare), este povestirea unei povești prin vocea altui scriitor,utilizand din abundență temele și motivele atât de des întâlnite în celelalte romane citite: Hawthorn ( romancierul fetiș al lui Auster) ,conincidența, asceza/izolarea, iminența dezastrului, eșecul, identitatea. Scriitura e fluidă, povestea incitantă făcând lectura acestei cărți un deliciu.

After having lost his wife and children in a plane crash, writer and teacher David Zimmer is on a path of self-destruction, drinking, behaving badly around people, rejecting any and all understanding and sympathy. But seeing a bit of silent film comedy on TV, he takes up the task of examining and writing a book about the work of one comedic genius from the 20’s. Soon after the book is published the wife of the supposedly dead film-maker contacts Zimmer to ask if he might like to meet the man himself.


Paul Auster - image from El Pais

There is much parallelism here, Zimmer with both Hector Mann, the ancient film-maker and Chateaubriand, the author of a lengthy autobiography that Zimmer is translating. In a way all three are dead. Zimmer and Mann had both attempted suicide. And a character in the book ultimately succeeds in such an attempt.

What is real and what is illusion? Hector had been in the business of illusion, then had to present an illusion of himself for most of his life. His film The Life of Martin Frost echoes the book’s theme of illusion. Sometimes an illusion can be a helpful thing, as when Zimmer is comforted by Alma on the plane (see below).There is a passage in which Mann spots what he believes to be a blue stone on the street. He has a detailed plan of what he will do with it, alive with human connection, only to find that it is a gob of spit. Yet the imagining was enough to alter his life course. Maybe illusions are what we tell ourselves, what we need, in order to survive.

I enjoyed the book very much. It was a fast read, engaging, with interesting characters and enough suspense to sustain a level of tension. There was, perhaps, too little told of Hector’s wife and why she does what she does. Well, Auster does explain, but I found it unconvincing. I wish that I had kept better track of characters. No, there are not hordes of them. I just wish that I had tracked the braiding of the stories. There is much interweaving here, much that occurs for some that also occur for others. I was too tired while reading this to devote adequate attention to that. C’est la vie. I was encouraged, however, to read more of Auster.

n  nn  nn  nn  n

"Αν κάποιος κάνει μια ταινία που δεν θα τη δει κανείς, η ταινία υπάρχει ή όχι;"

Αν και είμαι προκατειλημμένος με τον Auster, λατρεύω ό,τι γράφει, το συγκεκριμένο βιβλίο το θεωρώ από τα καλύτερα έργα του.
Άνθρωποι που τα χάνουν όλα, που ακροβατούν ανάμεσα στην ματαιότητα και το τίποτα, ανάμεσα στον κόσμο των ζωντανών και των νεκρών, έως ότου χαθούν και οι ίδιοι. Και μια αίσθηση πως κάθε βίωμα, κάθε ανάμνηση μπορεί να χαθεί από τη μια στιγμή στην άλλη, πως είναι τελικά μια ψευδαίσθηση.
Και όπως λέει και ο ίδιος, οταν όλα καταρρεύσουν, τελικά τι απομένει? Ίσως αυτή να είναι η πιο ενδιαφέρουσα ερώτηση απ'όλες - να δούμε τι συμβαίνει όταν δεν απομένει τίποτα, και αν θα το επιβιώσουμε και αυτό.

A surprising book that is riveting through to the final words. I say "surprising" because at first it's not clear as to what kind of book this is going to be. As with some of Auster's other work, the novel is told through a first-person narrator who happens to be a writer. We get long accounts of the book he is writing (about a silent filmmaker who went missing some years prior) and almost forget that there is a narrator involved, that we aren't reading a third-person account of this filmmaker's strange life. But the book takes several turns and we get our narrator back--with interest--as a series of events unfold in a haunting and devastating way. Auster is a master at seamlessly weaving complex themes into his prose without being heavy-handed or at the sacrifice of a good and entertaining story. Hats off to you, sir.

A treia carte a lui Paul Auster, care îmi creează un vârtej de senzații și de gânduri. Suntem iluzii pentru ceilalți? Dar pentru noi înșine? Viața este o mare iluzie, pe care o străbatem ca-n vis? Avem impresia că rămâne ceva în urmă sau ardem tot și lăsăm doar cenușa?
De-abia aștept să-l redescopăr, cu alt roman.

Professor David Zimmer's life is destroyed when his wife and two young sons are killed in a plane crash. He goes on a destructive binge of drinking and taking pills until he happens to see a documentary in which he is drawn to silent film comedian Hector Mann, who vanished around 1929 after a brief but promising film career. Zimmer begins to investigate the work of Hector Mann, an interest which becomes an obsession which takes him on a quest to see the 12 films which were mailed, anonymously, to 12 museums around the world. He ends up writing a book about Mann and some time later receives a letter from a woman claiming to be Mann's wife, saying that Mann is very much alive, but ill, and would like to meet with him. This sets off a series of events no one could anticipate.

Auster writes with such convincing detail that the first part of his book reads almost like a documentary, so much so that I wanted to google Hector Mann and find out what Wikipedia had to say about him. (I actually found there is an entry, about a band that created an album based on Auster's book, and several entries by people who seem to think Mann was a real actor.) Auster's description of Mann's films is so detailed it makes it difficult to believe they don't actually exist. If Auster wanted to make those films, he already has a ready-made screenplay within his own book.

This is a great read and highly recommended.

ADDENDUM: I have read through the negative reviews for this book and must add that this was my introduction to Auster, so I don't have the luxury of comparing this to his previous works.