February sustenance

Reading


Paul Auster – Invisible

I began fairly hopeful given strong reviews, but still feared about Auster’s latest due to a recent dip in form, an erring towards sameyness in subject.  (Dark rooms, illusions, psychological trauma, or is he?-ness).  Even though Auster sameyness is still sameyness of an impressively high standard.  I needn’t have worried, and thoroughly enjoyed this from start to finish.  Utterly compelling and quite possible to read in a single sitting if you had a day spare, its plot and characters are intricately woven in typically mysterious style so all is never quite as it seems – which you kind’ve expect anyway.  The turns of the plot and style almost deceive the length of the novel: not very long.  But rewards in its sparsity, deft touch and sheer readability are plentiful.

I often remember how good art makes me feel, the sensations it evokes, rather than the subject and what it directly contains.  Particularly so with good fiction.  I’ll remember ravenously devouring Invisible over the course of a few days, feeling excited by the pace and effortlessly graceful measure of the writing, occasionally breathtaken by the craft and confidence to masterfully execute understated yet profound scenes.