All right, I guess I'll go on a little bit about Paul Auster last night since my two companions, Kate and Tony, have already done so. It sucked. To a packed auditorium, the author read the first chapter of his most recent novel, which was on sale in the Hall of Mirrors outside. That might have been interesting, but it wasn't. It went on and on until it felt like freshman year Western Civ. No banter. No smiles. We eventually got in line to get stuff signed and, although he signed it, I came away so disappointed.
How could you be so mean to your fans, Mr. Auster?
It was a little bit like when I saw that documentary on Paul Simon. I'm no huge fan, but it was the music of my childhood. Watching the documentary, it doesn't take long to see how much of an egomaniac this guy is. It was repulsive and put me off of him for life. He wrote some really good songs, but I don't love them the way I used to love them.
Now, I never felt that Paul Auster was an amazing author. He's good at his thing, which is writing simplistically and putting in all sorts of strange coincidences. There is great talent in that, of course. But, I always have an empty feeling after reading one of his stories. I come out the exact same person as I walked in. I am not changed and I have not had any new thoughts. It was simply a way to pass the time. I'll probably read his latest book, since he's read half of it to me already, but I'm not sure it will go much further than that.
But what should he care about disappointing his fans, he just depends on them to make a living.
Posted at 13:47:49