“Art is opposed to nothing but falsity.” – Paul Auster
Now, I look at this essay (PDF) I wrote in my senior of college, ostensibly about Paul Auster’s novel Leviathan, and I see a few decent ideas comically overwritten — and, in at least one instance, cribbed from work I was doing in another class that semester — but what I don’t see is a truly in-depth analysis of the novel, much less anything that somebody would want to use as a teaching aid for the book.
And yet apparently somebody wants to. An English teacher in Paris (and fellow Penn State alum) sent me an message through Facebook, asking if he could use my text in some of his questions to his students, who are now reading Auster’s book. And while I’m still dubious about the whole thing, I’m happy to let them get whatever they can out of it.
I’m tempted to re-read Auster’s novel. (After reading his latest a few weeks ago, I could use a reminder of a time when he was good.)
As long as he’s not also asking promising tickets to France for Fred, suite at Plaza-Athenee, meals, irresponsable shopping spree, and misillaneous expense of 8.7 million collars plus cookiz.