This is a coincidence, and coincidence is no coincidence in an Auster novel. In an Auster novel, characters meet characters named Paul Auster, detectives spy on writers who are already spying back and chance encounters govern the universe. I am prepared to believe this afternoon's interview may yield anything. I first read Auster when I was living in Brooklyn. Auster keeps busy.
Narrative structures meander like their occasionally transient protagonists.
Or they explode laterally like their New York City setting. It is not inappropriate to use the term Austerian in those moments when paranoia, fate and a man with a mysterious briefcase collide. I get to the Stanford Court Hotel in San Francisco early and poke around. The cheery lobby gives way unceremoniously to a dim, faux-old hotel bar. What the place lacks in smoke and moody pomp it makes up for in comfortable chairs.