I admire Paul Auster's fiction and its neo-allegorical explorations of the existential (I pulled that phrase from the Alphabet Soup I ate for lunch-- seriously), and while I've enjoyed the thematic tension and play of his novels, I've always had reservations about his prose style; for a major writer, his sentences are often as dulcet and graceful as cavemen playing a game of jacks. This collection of essays and prefaces on mainly avant-garde-ish writers (I'll ignore the interviews, which are mostly biographical and craft-related) is more informational than astute, and finds his writing sharpened, but dull: the architecture of the sentences and paragraphs is more adroit (with the exception of the titular essay, which reads like a slightly precocious undergrad paper-- it may well be), but the rhetoric is austere and unengaging. Despite having started his career as a poet, Auster displays limited flair for metaphor, simile, and lyricism (these may seem glamour qualms, but sometimes it's the eyeshadow in a writer's voice that catches your eye). And his observations and points, the meat of the book, are, while occasionally pungent, more often bland and regurgitated. Nonetheless, Auster is a vital mainstream contemporary author, and is to be commended for offering selections from his personal canon of influences, many of whom seem delicacies one would forego otherwise.

After recently rereading Hamsun's Hunger, I thought it only fitting to reread the Auster's essay. It was excellenter than I remembered and so are several others I dipped into. Auster was a busy young man, writing things that meant things. While I, well, while this is about the best I can come up with. Still, I never yet wrote a novel which had a dog as its main character. For that I am everproud.

Paul Auster's writing is so elegant, so concise, that I find it exceptionally beautiful on almost any subject. These essays are for the most part critical analysis on various poets, that were so incredibly well written that I have already inter-library loan requested two of them already. I found his pieces on Beckett to be excellent and the Preface to an anthology on Twentieth Century French Poetry to be absorbing.

He has made me excited to find and read Reznikoff, Laura Riding and John Ashberry. I actually enjoyed his writing so much, that I read several of these more than once. I will have to track down some of Paul Auster's poetry next...if his non-fiction is that elegant, I look forward to his poetry.

Beautiful volume of essays on art. Brilliant

I'm grateful to have read this not just because of Auster's excellent, excellent style, but also for the so many new writers and poets he's introduced me to, and the new ways of looking at those I already knew that he's likewise given me.

Auster's essay on Knut Hamsun's novel, "Hunger," wherein the protagonist intentionally starves himself (but only insofar as he doesn't kill himself) as a way of exploring the limits of reality and language, was a fucking trip. "New York Babel," in which Auster considers Louis Wolfson's "Le Schizo et les Langues", was downright amazing. Wolfson is a schizophrenic American who, finding English intolerable because it was the language of his bullies - most notably his unsympathetic mother, learned various foreign languages, constantly plugged his ears, or listened to foreign languages so as not to be "assaulted by English." "The Decisive Moment," which looks at the works of the Objectivist poet Charles Reznikoff was a master study of how language's sparseness can be highly evocative.

Other essays that I enjoyed were on Beckett's relationship to the French language - "From Cakes to Stones"; Laura Ridings exploration of the limits of (her own, not tout court, says Auster) poetry; "The Poetry of Exile,"- an examination of Paul Celan's work; "Book of the Dead,"- a reading of "The Book of Questions by the French-Egyptian Jewish writer Edward Jabés; "Innocence and Memory" on Giussepe Ungaretti; "The Battlebooth Follies"- on the Oulipo writer Georges Perec, whose work - Life: A User's Manual (1978) - remains one of the most outstanding novels I have ever read; and perhaps most movingly, "Kafka's Letters," which wrung an involuntary tear out of me.

I hated this books to be honest. The concept was interesting, but that was it. Everything else was mind-numbingly boring. The writing wasn't engaging and I had to force my way through every page.

I pulled this down off the bookcase and looked at my notes in the margins. Today we lost a literary icon, and amazing human. Rest in power, Paul Auster.

"It is an art that begins with the knowledge that there are no right answers. For that reason it becomes essential to ask the right questions. One finds them by living them."

His essay on Knut Hamsun's Hunger is the best in the book. You can read it online here.

What an array of feeling. It is a very strange composition of pieces of writing. Even with some parts that nearly killed me, I am left unable to award it with less than four stars.

Some thoughts:
- Title essay, The Art of Hunger: The art of Auster (unputdownable)
- He makes poetry shine with such grace, yet it does not make me a poetry reader. I think I will never be. At times it is too academic and mysterious for me
- He explains the brilliance of plotless literature (I loved loved that piece)
- At times, it is totally lost on me. In fact, some of it reads like poetry (loop closed, if you know what I mean)
- I needed to take long breaks from this as I feared I would die from exposure (the chapter on twentieth century French poetry absolutely killed me!)
- ... But then we return to the Auster I adore, his real strange life experiences revealed, his fiction transformed into a very special mirror, in place of a fantasy

Another book, I've been carrying from country to country. A really delight to read, since Auster is an excellent writer and user of words. There are forwards, essays an introduction to modern French poetry anthology(which was a bit stiff to read, when you haven't read the poets).

It's interesting to get inside Auster's writing-head( if it can be separated from the personal one, even). I didn't know his almost obsession with coincidences, and the fact he has them in his books has led to criticism about the 'realistic' aspect of his work. Hah, but they do happen, and if one see so blind in life, I feel sorry for your sad life. It's also inspiring to read about Kafka from Auster's point of view. I learned some new things. The artist path, be it author or painter is always fascinating. To see how other creators struggled, questioned, and luckily in Auster's case used the moment that was given to share their talent.

I appreciate Auster's essays and nonfiction much more than the fiction for which he is famous. I love this book. Auster's insights into "outsider art" are spot-on. Most importantly, his essay on Hunger turned me on to Knut Hamsun, so that alone is worth the price of admission.

As all things Auster, so eminently readable but the subject matter is a bit dry for me.