Paul Auster- Mr. Vertigo

Mr. Vertigo

Faber & Faber

Paul Auster

1994

Other Paul Auster Reviews- The Invention of Solitude - The Country of Last Things - Moon Palace - The Art of Hunger - Mr. Vertigo - Timbuktu - The Book of Illusions - Oracle Night - Invisible

 "Let your muscles go limp, breathe until you feel your soul pouring out of you, and then shut your eyes. That’s how it’s done. The emptiness inside your body grows lighter than the air around you. Little by little, you begin to weigh less than nothing. You shut your eyes; you spread your arms; you let yourself evaporate. And then, little by little, you lift yourself off the ground."

Trying to pick the right arrangement of words to succinctly describe the writings of Paul Auster, post-modern virtuoso of twentieth-century Americana is a difficult thing to do (I tried with The Invention of Solitude and Invisible), I think because his ideas, his characters and his prose are so fluid and unique that trying to find a solidified, conscientiously agreed-upon meaning in most of his novels is kind of like trying to catch catch a cloud with a fishing net. I think that's why, aside from his surreal neo-noir three-part story collection The New York Trilogy, Auster's name doesn't quite resonate with the mainstream understanding of contemporary fiction. On the surface, he's can perhaps appear to be too alien, too complicated, and he never promises to give a happy ending.

Published in 1994. Mr. Vertigo gives itself a sense of identity beginning with the cover and stretching around to the blurb and the quotes on the back, and confirmed in the first few paragraphs, giving the impression that this could be the most accessible Auster book that I've so far read. The novel tells the life-story of a young orphaned boy named Walt, who is one day whisked away from his nothing life by a mysterious man known only by the name of Master Yehudi, a mesmerizing Jew with promises of greatness for Walt. For if Walt follows every command from his new master (many of them seemingly pointless, some of them horrifically masochistic), then before his thirteenth birthday he will be able to fly.

Paul Auster- Natural brooder.

Set in the nineteenth century in front of a backdrop of depression, racism and the American dream, Mr. Vertigo has a heart of pure Americana; Walt is an embodiment of the classic, lovable rogue on an adventure he just doesn't understand, like Huck Finn crossed with Holden Caulfield. Narrating the story of his youth as his elder-self, Walt spends many pages talking about his youthful adventures with Master Yehudi, before pushing forward into his future at varying speeds, reminiscent of Dickens on fast-forward. Acolyte of Auster I am, I found the novel compelling, but I'm not sure if other, non-fanboy readers would be so comfortable emotionally investing in these characters when it feels like Auster is liable to do a 180 degree turn at any minute and flip things on its head because he's that kind of writer.

The essence of Walt's journey towards hopeful super-stardom as the boy who could fly has many clear parables to the idea of the American Dream; like Jay Gatsby he comes from nothing aiming for everything, and it seems to me pretty clear that you could put your own spin on the notion of achieving your dreams and all that crap, but Walt's tale is too complex for me to really analyze it in that manner without spoiling everything and writing for a hundred pages myself, and I'm already over the three-paragraph limit I try to keep to on these things. I'll end by simply saying that Mr. Vertigo certainly isn't my favourite Auster book, and it's probably not his best, but it is a masterfully woven tale evocative of the time in which it is set but still retaining the unpredictability and vague sense of surrealism that Auster's has made his own.