‘Invisible’ by Paul Auster
I picked this up in a closing down sale of a local independent bookshop, which was a shame. As nice as the shop was, its location meant it was probably doomed (in the basement section of a sparsely populated artisanal shopping centre, away from the high street). The fact that I can’t even remember the shop’s name is possibly significant. The fact that I also picked up a quite nice rug for my workroom there is probably less significant to anyone but me.
Anyway, I hadn’t read any Paul Auster in a long while, but remembered enjoying The New York Trilogy somewhat and The Brooklyn Follies somewhat more. There’s sometimes a satisfaction in reading a writer so established in their abilities that they can write pretty much anything and it comes out readable and moreish. I wouldn’t say this was one of his best, but I certainly didn’t expect the content of the book’s second part, which was caused a bit of a double take.
It’s also one of those books without quotation marks for dialogue. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this and decide whether it’s a contrivance or a sensible piece of efficiency. I think I might be too square to write dialogue without inverted commas.