Customer Reviews

Travels in the Scriptorium

5 star:		(13)
4 star:		(18)
3 star:		(6)
2 star:		(7)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

An elderly man awakens in a locked room furnished with little more than a bed, a desk and chair, and a small bathroom. He cannot remember who he is or why he is seemingly imprisoned in that room, but he notices four piles of manuscripts and a stack of photographs arranged neatly on the desk. Not long after he wakes, a nurse named Anna brings him breakfast, then washes and dresses him all in white, telling the old man (now given the name, for want of anything else, of Mr. Blank) that the whites were a special request of a Peter Stillman. A little later, another visitor named James P. Flood arrives and questions Mr. Blank desperately regarding the latter's past reference to "Flood's dream" from a book by Fanshawe titled Neverland. Throughout the day, Mr. Blank wonders about his circumstances - whether the door to his room is locked, whether his shade-drawn window can be opened - but he finds himself easily distracted by everything from sexual longing to discovering that his chair has wheels. He is visited again in the afternoon, first by his doctor, Samuel Farr, who wants to check on the progress of Mr. Blank's "treatment," by another nurse named Sophie, and finally by Daniel Quinn, who says he is Blank's lawyer.

As the day progresses, the old man slowly pierces a shroud of guilty feelings by learning that he is somehow responsible for the lives of many others whom he has dispatched on various missions. Strange but vaguely familiar names crop up - Farr, Fanshawe, Fogg. The old man begins devoting attention to the manuscript on the desk. He discovers that it is a report, written by a man named Sigmund Graf, about events in a country called the Confederation and a border outpost named Ultima at the edge of the Alien Territories. Uncertain at first if the manuscript is about himself or one of his charges, he slowly discovers that it is a work of fiction written by one John Trause. Angered when he reaches the end of the manuscript with the story line unresolved, he is encouraged by his "doctor" Samuel Farr to hypothesize an ending. The old man starts outlining a resolution and, even after Farr leaves, continues contemplating alternative plot lines until he comes up with one that satisfies him. The old man intuits that just as he awoke that morning with no recall of his past or who he is, sleep will render him to the same helpless condition the next morning (an interesting parallel to the movie MEMENTO). As if to confirm that fear, TRAVELS IN THE SCRIPTORIUM ends with Mr. Blank seemingly caught in an endless, Mobius-like loop.

SPOILER ALERT! It is virtually impossible to discuss TRAVELS IN THE SCRIPTORIUM in a serious manner without revealing key elements of its plot and meaning. In 1921, Luigi Pirandello staged a play entitled "Six Characters in Search of an Author;" 85 years later, Will Farrell starred in a similarly themed movie called "Stranger than Fiction." What both works have in common, they also share with Paul Auster's TRAVELS IN THE SCRIPTORIUM - a discourse on the creative process and the relationship of literary characters to their authors (including notions of immortality and the realization that a writer's characters will outlive their creator).

In this short novel, Mr. Blank can be seen as the writer's creative mind, or perhaps his muse. Of course, the name is a referent to every writer's symbolic raw material and greatest dread, the blank sheet of white paper. The old man's trivial distractions are those of a writer, the locked room is the writer's mind, those past missions are the plot lines through which he has paced characters from his earlier works, and the uncompleted manuscript is his work in process. Even Mr. Blank's advanced age and attendant exhaustion and infirmity are barely disguised references to the notion of creative exhaustion, and the old man's "treatment" is a literary double entendre, since one meaning of treatment is the way of handling a subject. Mr. Blank's visitors are the shadows of the author's earlier works, intruding upon his efforts to forge something new. Thus, among others, Peter Stillman, Daniel Quinn, and Sophie Fanshawe are characters from Auster's own NEW YORK TRILOGY, Benjamin Sachs is from LEVIATHAN, Fogg is from MOON PALACE, Zimmer is from THE BOOK OF ILLUSIONS, and Anna Blume and Samuel Farr from IN THE COUNTRY OF LAST THINGS. Finally, there is John Trause (a barely disguised acronym for Auster and a character who appeared in ORACLE NIGHT), author of the partially completed manuscript whose story line Mr. Blank tries to complete at Samuel Farr's request.

Comparisons with Kafka or Beckett will come easily for this book, as well as allusions to the movie "Being John Malkovich" or Rod Serling's Twilight Zone television series (especially the episode "Five Characters in Search of an Exit"). Better, however, to regard TRAVELS IN THE SCRIPTORIUM as a curious and diverting sidebar within the context of Auster's previous works, from THE CITY OF GLASS and MOON PALACE to THE MUSIC OF CHANCE and THE BROOKLYN FOLLIES. Fans of Mr. Auster will likely not find their appreciation of his talents diminished by this excursion into the darker recesses of his writerly mind.

The first third of Travels in the Scriptorium is strange, ala Margaret Atwood. Why is this man caged up in this little room, and why is he being drugged? Who is he? During the course of the one day encompassed by this novel, visitor after visitor drops in and imparts a small nugget of information, which, as they accumulate, begin to fill in this picture. By the end of the second third, light begins to dawn on the reader, and the last third, to the finish, though still strange, is much more satisfying. Auster is not the first author to adopt the central premise of Travels, but he makes use of it in an original way.

Despite the caveats of other reviewers, I did not find my lack of familiarity with Auster's previous works any impediment. In fact, it probably added to the element of surprise.

Before reviewing the latest Paul Auster novel, I'd like to point out a few things: I am a huge Auster fan. First, I saw Smoke, the movie, and even though I hate cigarretes, I found it simply beautiful. After that, I read The New York Trilogy and The music of chance. It's hard to describe these novels. While reading them, I felt like they were burning my hands, but I couldn't stop reading them. Late at night, when I could barely see, I kept telling to myself, one more chapter, another chapter, just a few more pages. Then I realized that the end was close, so finished them in less then two days. The music of chance was so hypnotic, that even if I had to walk some where, I would read while I was walking. That's the spell that these two novels pulled on me.

Now, I few years later, I went full circle. I read every single novel Auster wrote, so you can consider me a PaulAusterologist. Although I read a lot, Auster is the only author, prolific author (more than 7 novels) of which I read his whole work (novels) What did I found in this journey? He is very reiterative, very very. Most of his characters are some how in the writing business, if not writers. As he is. They went to Columbia. As he did. They speak french. As he does. They are avid readers. As he is. Of course that this happens with many writers, but this is maybe too much. Also, you always find the idea that little events, little decisions we make, can reshape our life in a blink. Last but not least, his characters are always commited to major tasks. Things that only they understand, but some how will be very important. Things that for unknown reasons, they must do. This is Paul Auster's world. And he is running out of ideas.

What about Travels in the scriptorium? Well, basically Auster is being visited by his characters. They are angry, yet they care for him. The question is, after he did so many things to them, sent them to so many dangerous places, made them do so many twisted things, what do they feel about him, what would they do to him if they have a chance? That's a question many writers ask themselves, but turning it in to a novel? I don't know... looks lazy to me, specially after producing so many similar pieces lately.

Finally, Auster is human as we are. That means that he is obsessed and haunted by certain questions just as we are. These questions will be after us our whole life, yes, but if you are a writer, you must try to write something new and not the same novel over and over.

A few years ago, I saw a García Márquez interview. He said that after One hundred years of solitude, that kind of writing, the themes, the structure, the universe and the type of characters, were so deep in him, that he could have written the same book, slightly changed, over and over for many years. But he didn't. Instead, he stopped writing. He took a break. He took many years. And then, only then, when he finally got rid of the One hundred years of solitude universe, he produced a different book, completely fresh. I think that Auster should do the same.

The book, more a Novella than a Novel per se, is an interesting rendition by Auster. The character finds himself in whatever condition he does, which in this book is an old man with lagging memory and little mobility. His daily needs seem to be met, he seems to be undergoing some type of treatment, but in general, he receives the care and feeding that is necessary.

There does seem to be some type of elaborate psychiatric study going on, but the nature of the study and what may be its objectives are not revealed to the reader, except that it involves taking pills. It also creates great nausea, but much more than that, we do not know about the treatment. Thus Auster creates the conditions, the time, the place, the abilities and capacities of the protagonist, and the direction or purpose of the plot.

And in the end, Auster brazenly flaunts this power. He shows us that the character has precisely what he endows upon him. Auster, the Author is the one in charge of everything and everyone that interacts with his character. And aside from that, Auster, the Author has not yet decided what the next thing, next experience, next occurrence will yet be.

The book is recommended to all Auster readers and to those who are studying being writers and authors. The perspective Auster brings as Author is truly unique and worth the porthole he provides to us in this small Novel.

Paul Auster isn't the first novelist to place himself in his own work, to interact with his own characters. Vonnegut did so with his Kilgore Trout; Fowles dabbled with the technique in his French Lieutenant's Woman. Reviewers may find this hackneyed, but it seems to be a phase that our best writers feel compelled to go through -- with good reason, I think. For the truly talented author, his/her characters ARE real and alive; that is the secret of their success. If this is the case, isn't it inevitable that, sooner or later, the writer will begin to feel responsible for and/or accountable to these lives s/he's created? It may well be that, once such a stage is reached, the writer must deal with the situation, must write a book such as this one, before ever being able to "move on"? And writers face this dilemma in various ways: Vonnegut tries to "kill off" his principle characters, but finds it impossible. Fowles plays with them, offering the reader various versions of their lives by clicking a stop watch on and off, beginning and rebeginning key scenes. Auster, on the other hand, places himself as an amnesiac prisoner of his own characters, who interact with him as they decide his future. There is something very admirable, even noble, in the way Auster handles all this; by giving up control, this "creator god" has agreed to share the fate of the universe he created. Auster's Mr. Blank is, in this sense, very much a christ-figure who gives himself over to the judgement of his own creatures. This speaks volumes about Auster's success as a writer; by taking this literary step, he gives pointed example of what he's been doing his entire career, negating all distance between himself and his "people" (characters and readers), and thus making it possible for us to do the same.

Even if you buy none of this, "Travels" is still worth the read, if for no other reason than to see how a truly great writer approaches this oft-tried form. At the same time, it makes one wonder with anticipation: Now that Auster has taken this (necessary) step regarding himself and his characters, what will his next novel be like?

That pretty much describes the premise underlying Paul Auster's book "Travels in the Scriptorium." An old, enfeebled man sits in what appears to be a locked room. He has no name and is referred to by the story's narrator simply as Mr. Blank. The reader is told the old man is under video surveillance. The old man seems befuddled as he wanders around the room. He doesn't really know who he is or why he is in this seemingly locked room. He sees an unfinished manuscript of a story but it doesn't seem relevant to his situation. He is visited by a nurse and a series of visitors and each one provides some small hint as to his identity or his past life. Was he a spymaster, sending his agents into dangerous situations? That is the impression given by a couple of his mysterious visitors. Mr. Blank's conversations and observations are interspersed with excerpts from the mysterious manuscript.

In the hands of Auster "Travels in the Scriptorium" reads the way one might expect a story inspired by an M.C. Escher painting to read. There is a certain infinite paradox about the visitors and the manuscript as one story line flows into another and then back again. Ultimately, the seeming paradox is revealed to the reader. Readers intimately familiar with Auster's work will likely have `figured things out' a bit quicker than those, like me, who have only read one or two of his previous works. I think I my enjoyment of the story was heightened by the fact that the 'key' to the puzzle was revealed to me later rather than it may be to dedicated fans of Auster.

Some reviewers have suggested that "Travels in the Scriptorium" is something of an author's self-referential indulgence. A finger exercise in wit if you like. However, I didn't get a sense of that and was, rather, entertained by Auster's well-crafted prose and his stylish way of telling a story. I enjoyed "Travels in the Scriptorium" and have no qualms about recommending it to anyone interested in a good tale. Recommended. L. Fleisig

Travels in the Scriptorium is Paul Auster's (mercifully short) 13th novel ... or is it? Sadly, Mr. Auster hasn't had a new idea since Leviathan; each novel he's written since then has been nothing more than a repackaging of his old ideas (chance, alienation, identity). I've read all of his novels and, with the exception of the horrible In the Country of Last Things, regard his early ones as exceptional, and they meant a lot to me; that's why reading the latter half of his oeuvre has been so disappointing, and frustrating.

Between the age of 50 and 60, a career (and acclaimed) novelist should be in his prime, but Mr. Auster has not fulfilled his promise. Instead we have Mr. Blank, the protagonist in his latest novel(?), which reads more like, I hope, his confession that he knows he is out of ideas. The novel reads as if Mr. Auster himself is in his old age, in the grip of dementia: the shards of his former writings and influences are haunting his soul, and he's decided to scrawl it all down and pass it off as a novel. So in Travels we get a stifling pastiche of Kafka and Beckett peopled with ghosts of characters from Mr. Auster's other novels, plus the distasteful details of Mr. Blank's member and his bowel movements.

The limited action contained within this slim book's covers are detailed in the product description and don't need to be restated here. If you've never read a novel by Mr. Auster before, this isn't the one to start with: read the NY3, Moon Palace, The Music of Chance, or Leviathan. If you've read Mr. Auster's other novels, you have read Travels in the Scriptorium already.

An old man, designated "Mr. Blank" for convenience, finds himself confined in what might be a prison or a hospital, fed drugs, constantly watched, and surrounded by mystification. He is supposed to have been a person of some authority who caused great suffering for those under his command, but none of this is clear. He also finds himself with assigned reading, a chilling memoir written by one Sigmund Graf, who is imprisoned for unclear reasons in an imaginary country.

As the novel progresses, Mr. Blank attempts to understand his situation, encounters a number of people (his doctor, his lawyer, his nurses) and tries to make sense of Graf's manuscript. He learns very little and the story ends where it began, an endless loop from which the unfortunate old man will never escape.

Author Paul Auster is absolutely brilliant with his use of the story-within-story technique. He literally entrances the reader, leads the reader's thoughts in different directions to create a sort of hypnotic state in which everything seems strangely significant. The problem with this particular work comes when the reader puts the book down and wakes up. Nothing has been resolved, nothing explained. The story was told for the sake of telling a story. Compared to Auster's other works this one left me disappointed. Still, you may enjoy it just for the experience of reading Auster's words and sentences. I recommend it with some reservations. Reviewed by Louis N. Gruber.

Here's the thing: if you've been reading Paul Auster for a long time, you're going to love Travels In the Scriptorium because it was written for you. Meaning, this little devil is so full of Easter eggs from Auster's past works that longtime readers will have a field day.

Because I've read many of Auster's works, it's hard for me to disassociate what I've read before and look at Travels In the Scriptorium objectively as a stand-alone project. If I were going to recommend this book to new Auster readers, I would say it is once again a captivating story that makes expert use of metafiction. Auster often submits stories-within-stories in his writings, and Travels In the Scriptorium is no exception. Furthermore, Auster explores his classic themes of isolation, identity, and self-analysis.

To the experienced Auster fan, I would say that yes, while Auster once again presents a story-within-a-story, and while he once again delves into ideas of isolation and ambiguous identity, he does so in a fresh, enjoyable manner. I compare Auster's talent to that of Michael Jordan. Sure, when Jordan played, there came a time when we'd seen most of it all before, yet we still couldn't take our eyes off of him because he made each dunk, each three-pointer, and each cross-over a thing of beauty, something far and away better than anything anyone else could ever hope to do.

Such is Auster. I've read all of these themes before and seen most of the techniques, but he makes it all seem original with each new outing. Consequently, though I won't spoil the book, Travels In the Scriptorium covers new metafictional ground for Auster, and I think if anyone deserves to try something like what occurs in this book, it's Auster.

I wouldn't recommend Travels In the Scriptorium as a first read for someone new to Auster, but to those loyal Auster fans, it was a real delight for reasons you'll notice almost immediately.

~Scott William Foley, author of The Imagination's Provocation: Volume I

Paul Auster's novel is short(at 145 pp.) but quite thought-provoking.

The subject of the novel - nameless man wakes up not knowing who, why when or how about his identity or anything remotely important - is not a new one and the bulk of the text feels like an extended Twilight Zone episode. The only difference here is that we do not get a Twlilight Zone ending. Lead character, Mr. Blank, may very well not exist as we know it - or he may simply be a character/plot-line in within the wellspring mind of a random author - waiting to be given identity, meaning, etc. or breathed into life through the creative energies of said author.

"Travels In Scriptorium" is purely intellectual 'stuff' and, as such, can only be recommended for those engaged in the 'life of the mind'.