Elizabeth Bradley's Reviews > The Brooklyn Follies

The Brooklyn Follies by Paul Auster
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's review
Aug 24, 2008

Disappointing. Fell apart when I started to have the suspicion that Auster's narrator was one of those avuncular ciphers, the soulful philosopher king, able to stand outside everyone else's problems, a lover of all women, shopper of impeccable taste, good with children and dogs, devoid of all complications (such as hair in the sink or a penchant for scooping up peanut butter with two fingers) beyond a failed marriage and cancer in remission. Neither of which messy, presumably lively affair warrants much air-time. Glib, glib, glib. And for this the French adore him? Folly, but not Brooklyn's folly.
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Comments (showing 1-3 of 3) (3 new)

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Jacob Yeah, it all wrapped up very tidily, didn't it?

message 2: by Elizabeth (new) - added it

Elizabeth Bradley do you like other Auster? I feel a little (just a little) sheepish that I have a big Auster-shaped hole in my reading. On a similar note, Adriana just gave me my first Roth, American Pastoral (I've been studiously avoiding Roth my entire adult life)...

Jacob I can't say I have any take on Auster, at all. In fact, I think our Auster and Roth shaped holes are probably identical. I read Brooklyn Follies over a weeks vacation and ambled around the slope eating wherever the protagonists ate. That was pretty good at the time, but I don't think the food or the book were world class. I made an entirely abortive attempt at Portnoy's Complaint, and that's all the Roth I've ever read.

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