Status
Call number
Genres
Publication
Description
Seventy-two-year-old August Brill is recovering from a car accident in his daughter's house in Vermont. When sleep refuses to come, he lies in bed and tells himself stories, struggling to push back thoughts about things he would prefer to forget--his wife's recent death and the horrific murder of his granddaughter's boyfriend, Titus. The retired book critic imagines a parallel world in which America is not at war with Iraq but with itself. In this other America the twin towers did not fall and the 2000 election results led to secession, as state after state pulled away from the union and a bloody civil war ensued. As the night progresses, Brill's story grows increasingly intense, and what he is so desperately trying to avoid insists on being told. Joined in the early hours by his granddaughter, he gradually opens up to her and recounts the story of his marriage. After she falls asleep, he at last finds the courage to revisit the trauma of Titus's death.--From publisher description.… (more)
Media reviews
User reviews
I recently read another novel (Ghostwalk by Rebecca Stott) where the auther had too many stories to tell and the novel became boring and tedious because of it. In that instance the writer seemed to not know what story line they really wanted to follow, so she just threw them all in together. Auster however has intentionally chosen several stories to tell, and he has done it exceptionally well. He is a writer on top of his game, as he kept me well interested until the end. The only problem I had was that one story line abruptly ended too soon. But all in all this was a great read.
In this story within a story which circles back on itself in good Auster style, magician (must have a magician!) Owen Brick finds himself plopped into this unfamiliar America with a mission thrust upon him. That mission? To assassinate the man responsible for the whole state of affairs. Right. The man responsible for imagining this alternate America.
The story is about a man who must kill the person who created him, and why pretend that I am not that person? By putting myself into the story, the story becomes real. Or else I become unreal, yet one more figment of my own imagination. Either way, the effect is more satisfying, more in harmony with my mood - which is dark, my little ones, as dark as the obsidian night that surrounds me. [pg. 102]
The power of storytelling, and the unstable nature of reality. Auster’s characters make their way through the dark in a tango of self-discovery and acceptance. As Auster (through Miriam) quotes Rose Hawthorne: “the weird world rolls on.”
Like a great athlete, Auster makes this whole effort look easy. You know, as if spun out of his head one night when he couldn’t sleep…Inventive and full of compassion, Auster’s novel may be his most widely accessible yet, while compromising none of his talents.
The world can be a grotesque place, and August Brill has seen it at its worst. He has good reason to want to escape the real world and tries mightily to do so by telling himself stories about imaginary ones. But the horrible events that made Brill a bed-ridden insomniac keep intruding until he finally has to face them and deal with them not just for himself, but for his family’s sake as well. The stories Brill invents are wonderful tales on their own, but Auster weaves them into a masterful tapestry of meaning.
This is a short work that mustn’t be rushed. The narrative drive is strong and the temptation to hurry along to see what happens next is nearly irresistible, but pace yourself. Enjoy the stories within the story. Contemplate their bizarre settings and note the details while you drift from imagination to memory to the awful here-and-now of August Brill’s sleepless night. You may be especially tempted to rush through the ending when reality becomes too horrible to bear, but don’t. Like Brill, you’ll find there is redemption in the morning.
I say nonsense! There is no 'confronts' nor is there any 'celebrates' and I would substitute 'gratuitous violence' for 'grotesque violence.' For a famous author whose name now sells books, this is a standard formulaic effort that deserves no more than two stars from my point of view.
This book, and Brooklyn follies are very similar in that they deal with a similar theme...Life goes on...I
I think in the right hands this could have been a profound and moving book. But as currently written, I can't quite believe how bad it is. The writing is incredibly clunky. I think the most annoying part was the way that every single thing is spelt out - for example, at the beginning, Brill explains "That's what I do when sleep refuses to come. I lie in bed and tell myself stories. They might not add up to much, but as long as I'm inside them, they prevent me from thinking about the things I would prefer to forget. Concentration can be a problem, however, and more often than not my mind eventually drifts away from the story I'm trying to tell to the things I don't want to think about." Well, I'm glad that's cleared up - readers might have got confused otherwise. The story-within-a-story, too, is full of holes, many of which are flagged up and then dismissed by Auster as "just the way things happen" in this parallel universe. My feeling is that if there are inconsistencies in the story, the author should either eliminate them or at least not draw attention to them.
Does all this matter? I think it does. It's very easy for a simple message to become banal if it's not well-handled - and for me, this is what happened here. War and brutality bad, love and human relationships good. Fair enough, but I didn't need to read this book to know that.
I was particularly bored with the later admission of a "flaw" in our main character as the description seemed trite. It just wasn't worth reading about.
The only part that really spoke to me was the circumstance of Titus's death. Auster forced me to consider a reality for many families that I have fortunately never had to face.
Man in the dark is an interesting story within a story within a story. Auster has a wonderful talent for building strong and believable characters. He has mastered the show; don’t tell technique of character development and action. This book of a mere 180 pages, is chalk full of interesting little stories; maybe tidbits is a better descriptor about seemingly ordinary people. The main character is a man in his early seventies who is living with his daughter and granddaughter after a car accident has left him crippled. Each night he finds sleep as a mere desire rather than an actuality, so to pass the time he tells himself stories; so real and some fictional. It is a kind of one act, one set play where the main character examines his life and the lives of those who have touched him most deeply; especially his family.
This is an excellent story; I can’t wait to read more of this author.
Moreover, this unfortunate last part piles up clichés that most romantic fiction writers carefully avoid : "a kiss for the ages", "I came to realize how much suffering she carried around inside her." (l'eusses-tu cru?), "our baby was like no other baby in the world" (oh weh!) "not the God of any religion, but God as the presence that animates all life" (you don't say)... not to mention Titus enlisting out of despair and world-weariness (Auster spares us unrequited love - a narrow escape). All right : GHOST OF BARBARA CARTLAND, GET OUT OF THIS BOOK!!!!!!! (actually I don't object to a good old Barbara Cartland book once in a while, when I fancy the guilty pleasure of reading something sweet, hopeful and self-avowedly idiotic. A bad habit from youth, like a Mars bar. I really enjoy a Mars bar twice a year, but I would hate to find chunks of it in my oysters or porcini mushroom risotto).
Well, I nevertheless read this lengthy ending through, hoping to find some unexpected twist that would cast some eerie, cruel or ironic light on it but that was first degree all over. I keep remembering the way the author, in "The music of chance" changes, of all tedious things, the building of a wall into fascinating, suspenseful fictional stuff.
Isn't it incredible that I should write a longer account of the fifty pages I disliked than of the 130 I really liked? Well, no wonder : these fifty felt so much longer to me...
by Paul Auster
A book in one night and two parts.
August Brill (August is a bright month) is the main character of Man in the Dark. Affected by insomnia, he tells himself stories.
In the first part of this book August invented a war inside Usa and a character, Owen Brick, who has to
The second part: August recounts to his grandaughter, Katya, the story of his marriage and after he rethinks the kidnapping and murder of Katya's boyfriend in Iraq.
Auster, with August's help, wants to build a new world, a parallel world of bricks that lasts (Owen Brick = Oven brick). But this parallel world destroys itself because August falls in his world again, he needs to rethink his world first.
In the first part we find Auster's stereotypes from other books, while in the second part Auster introduces the History that hits the men; maybe he is following a new path in his books.
I prefer the first part, the Auster we all know; although 'As the weird world rolls on' (p. 180)' we could accept Auster's reflections about History.
The story is about an old man who fights insomnia and invents stories to keep from thinking about his life and relationships. His latest story is about a civil war--things are so bad that he invents a character to kill the author, just to make it stop. As it turns out the old man's story doesn't keep him distracted at all--these things never do. Still, he makes it through the night. In the end it's all about his life and relationships.