Oleg Kondratov Kondratov থেকে Santiago, Haiti
Nathan Glass, a retired life-insurance salesman diagnosed with lung cancer, moves out to Brooklyn to die. Throughout the course of the novel, he reunites with his nephew, becomes friends with a charismatic criminal-minded bookstore owner, and receives an unexpected visitor. The title stems from a series of notes Glass is putting together on life's mishaps, eventually to be formed into The Book of Human Folly. It's a touching book with the types of well fleshed-out, "I know that guy" type of characters. A little more feel-good than I was expecting. Auster in his writing deals with unreliable narrators, which on the positive side leaves opportunities for mystery and interesting reflection. But in The Brooklyn Follies, at times Glass might not have been reliable enough to be believable. For a first person narrator, he gives extremely detailed accounts of other people's lives--stories where, in reality, he would have just had a general synopsis of. The academic dialogue will turn off some readers--the nine-year-old seemed overly precocious (but then again, I don't know many nine-year-olds, so maybe that's unfair)...and nephew Tom, who dropped out of grad school during his thesis, talks like a term paper. My favorite characteristic of the story is a question Auster poses of how people find serenity in their surroundings. Nathan finds harmony in Brooklyn, which is why he chose it as his final destination. Tom has a different notion of serenity, dreaming of developing a small society in the woods, escaping American industrialization. Auster manages to make both scenarios seem desirable. Reflecting back on the book, that was powerful to me since lately I've been trying to decide what my ideal environment is--whether it be city, suburban, or rural life. Sometimes the inconvenience of one makes the other seem more desirable, while sometimes small things, like a scene you witness on the street or your favorite diner, makes you appreciate your current setting. Lately as I've been dealing with the obnoxious cost of living in the NYC area, I wonder why people living in extreme poverty stick around when they could be living in small-town America for a fraction of the cost (yeah, I realize how naive that can sound on paper). What makes a place feel like home? Your family, your job, being able to see a musical once a week? For Glass, a large part of it was the culture of the city.