The simple honesty of the writing, even when the subject is difficult, made Winter Journal most enjoyable.
Perhaps some of the memoir writings of Joyce Carol Oates might compare. But Paul Auster's point of view is very decidely masculine.
I like an author to read his own writing if the author has any talent for reading at all. He knows the material best, and there is little or no hesitancy about the performance.
I felt extremely sympathetic toward Auster's mother, and how courageous she was in her declining years. I think Paul Auster himself will not fair as well if he should live as long as his mother. I hope he has learned from her how to take his physical losses with some insight, and courage. I think men don't know how to disentagle who they are from their physical bodies, and so aging is harder for them. Women seem to be able to rely on an inner core of faith and optimism. Much of Auster's memory is sad, as he observes the decline of his physical strength, sexual prowess and power. I wanted him to reach more into the spiritual realm for some inspiration.
A very brave and passionate accounting of what was important in his life, nonetheless. He isn't afraid to say what he means, and to enter subjects that do not reveal him in a particularly positive light.
The topic is interesting. There seem to be more people with small or no conscience about, and it is useful to know how to spot them and avoid them. I didn't think the topic was developed to enough depth. Instead of elaborating on some of the case studies, the author kept bringing up new ones, and dealing with the surface details to reinforce the same ideas.
Probably wouldn't listen again.
Clear narration, but not very lively. Performance was monotonous.
It's a shame that such a good topic should be given such short shrift.
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