May 23
Charles BivonaPh.D. Studying
In a very specific reading of Paul Auster’s City of Glass, the text is seen “as the quintessence of Postmodern introversion, a kind of Post-Structuralist game or booby-trap, a labyrinth of mirrors reflecting only its own vanishing point” (Bilton, 52-53). However, within the obvious self-referential structure of the text emerges a more subtle deconstruction of the idea of narrator. Indeed, the parallel of vanishing between Stillman and Quinn shakes any faith in a storyteller, and thrusts the verisimilitude of the tale into doubt. In the midst of Quinn’s (and our) surveillance of Stillman, the he ceases to exist in the text—“Stillman was gone now. The old man had become part of the city” (Auster, 109). Without the main focus of the mystery, the inverted detective story unravels, and the reporting image of the detective becomes more and more translucent – “Quinn was nowhere now” (Auster, 124). “It was as though he had melted into the walls of the city” (Auster, 139).
Yet there may be more at stake here. For when the eye (or I) — that we associate with — evaporates from the page, part of our identity as textual participant is ripped away. The trauma of this lost identity, for us, may be the most unnerving aspect of Auster’s novel, and certainly suggests a rethinking of genre classification.
The murder of our identity as readers, as omniscient observer of the happenings of text, makes City of Glass a postmodern horror story – a sophisticated slasher tale in which the reader is the bloody victim.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Auster, Paul. The New York Trilogy. New York: Penguin, 1990.
- Bilton, Alan. An Introduction to Contemporary American Fiction. New York: NYU, 2003.
Possibly Related Posts:
May 20
Charles BivonaPh.D. Studying
Dear Grover–
I’m working on a very personal study. I am trying to understand what happened to my father. I am trying to place my family in the twentieth century, so I can try to write about how my family tree was shaped by twentieth century American war. It’s like an academic, historic, and literary genealogy. My Ph.D. work is in Modern History and Literature at Drew University.
I would mostly like to talk to you about my ideas. I remember being very impressed with your mind at Barbara Foley’s discussion groups.
Maybe we could write something together. Food for thoughts…
Charlie
Ok, wait, now who the hell is Grover Furr? »HERE
Possibly Related Posts:
May 20
Charles BivonaPh.D. Studying
Dear James:
I’ve been working on gathering information on the Vietnam conflict. I’ve been using your bibliography from Inventing Vietnam. It has been very helpful.
I’ve been working to place America’s Indochina experience in a twentieth century context. I find it interesting that each new Vietnam source I find — be it a documentary film, book, or article — seems to show Vietnam as “just another conflict” in the World War that erupted in 1914. It’s as if the historical tendrils of the Great War octopus still has its grip on us–to be all poetic about it.
This is not a new idea, nor is it mine, I’m sure. I recall asking H. Bruce Franklin what he thought of the Iraq War. He shrugged his eyebrows in bewilderment. Charles, he said, Iraq is just the newest conflict in the same Great War. Actually, that’s a paraphrase, but I find the idea intriguing.
I find it interesting that mismanaged global treaties may have thrown the world into a near century of continued war. I mean, you are my superior in the history field, by far, I’m just a poet, but can you tell me of a period since World War I when war was waging somewhere on Earth? I haven’t heard of one, and I’ve been trying.
That’s not relevant to the comp exam, though. That’s my larger project. I’m sorry. It’s so rare I get the chance to correspond with a true historian, so I’m rambling.
My point is, I would like to use this opportunity to place this period — the United States in Vietnam — in the context of a complete historical narrative that begins with World War I and culminates with September 11, 2001.
Is that too ambitious, or not ambitious enough? Again, I’m a literary guy.
I thank you, very much, for your guidance on this.
Yours,
Charles Bivona
Possibly Related Posts:
RSS