I once read this novel by Paul Auster, perhaps 5 years ago.It was highly recommended by a great poet friend which to me has become part of the story because the recommendation felt like it was an inculcation to a mystical spell without which I would wander restlessly through eternity like I never wore my own skin. Reading Timbuktu did turn out to be exactly that necessary and urgent and I am grateful to Richard for forcing its presence into my consciousness.I loved it(as far as I can love a novel). It opens a doorway into the life of an equally compassionate and disenfranchised man named Willy G. Christmas who happens to be homeless. The story is told through the eyes of someone who is completely in love with him and cannot see nor understand every aspect of his disconnect with reality and humanity. This creature, also a misfit in human society is the only narrator who could do justice to the as yet unrevealed(unreveled) humanity in Willy G., because of the ardency with which he loves his friend.To my mind, this is a novel about a love so giant that even the most difficult circumstances can't kill the love. Yes, when the troubling times come, Willy G. Christmas' best friend actually does doubt in him, does doubt in his sanity and his goodness, does wonder why he loves Willy so much. Why is it so important to recognize this epic struggle with love over a homeless man who almost no-one in this(type of) culture would value?I believe that this book is fundamentally asking the questions of why we value some people and some animals more highly than others. I believe that this book is a devastating exploration of hierarchical valuation, told in the form of a pleasant and oft hilarious parable about a man and his dog. That the story is told through the loving eyes of a dog(be this accurate or not about what dogs really see in entirety)is necessary. Even Willy G. Christmas' mother does not love him but of course, his dog does.I've probably made the book sound far more depressing and far less exciting and interesting than it is. It so happens that the adventures of these misfits are gut-belchingly tragicomic, causing me to remember the experience of the book as one which caused me to laugh until I cried, mainly. It also caused me to further travel into my experience of who matters to me and why, it caused me to consider questions of image, beauty, sanity, intelligence, communication skills and unpasteurized imagination as a landscape of places in which i might or might not value the life of another who lives beside me(or underneath or above me) on this planet while I live. Although I already had the proclivity to have these questions when I began the book, I found the experience of feeling the questions while reading Timbuktu, deeply satiating.As a reader, I've not often found a writer who asks me from where my love for people arises nor where it goes, in the form of a story about a person(and a dog)who most people would ignore the existence of out of fear that we too would become unloved and unwanted. The questions of dispossession which Auster wrestles with in this work are lovely, as would be stars, buried in a sky of dirt. What has grown in me from this seeding is a greater capacity to recognize and value life on earth in all of its myriad forms.I also want to make a note here about the fluid, ridiculous chain of events which could only make sense if you had been there for each one, as a style of communicating these life questions about who is worthy of love or attention. In this manner anyone who enters the vortex of the book with an understanding that life will continue to shift unpredictably, based on a necessary revision of "what we know" has the capacity to personalize this difficult set of experiences and therefore have compassion for them. Auster normalizes the non-normal experiences of his characters, displaying his own broad sweep of human compassion, through setting a contextual tone which is endemic to the every day rhythms of living.
Il primo libro che leggo di Auster , esperienza senza dubbio positiva ... Si potrebbe definire un on the road tutto particolare.... A narrare la storia in questo caso però è un cane. Tale Mr Bones (che bel nome per un cane, devo dire , fa molto chic). Mr Bones non è un cane qualsiasi, è dotato di un ' Intelligenza non comune per la sua specie, e anche di una notevole dose di saggezza e di senso pratico; quello che manca al suo padrone, ma più che padrone compagno di vita, William Gurevitch,logorroico filosofo e moderno scrittore Beat, che si è fatto ribattezzare Willy G.Christmas, a seguito di una bizzarra annunciazione/visione natalizia, ( di cui non voglio svelare nulla) dopo essersi fatto tatuare su un braccio babbo natale. Willy ha una missione , un vocazione , un compito nella vita ,definitelo pure come vi piace, e vale a dire: "E’ tutto quello che ho sognato, Mr. Bones. Migliorare il mondo. Portare un po’ di bellezza negli angoli grigi e monotoni dell’anima. Ci puoi riuscire con un tostapane, ci puoi riuscire con una poesia, o tendendo la mano a uno sconosciuto. Non importa la forma. Ecco, lasciare un mondo un po’ migliore di come l’hai trovato. E’ la cosa più bella che possa fare un uomo." E cosi il giorno di natale in particolar modo , ma tutti i giorni dell' anno effettivamente, Willy si mette le gambe in spalla e accompagnato dal suo fedele compagno cerca di rendere il mondo un posto migliore, sbronzo o in preda ad uno dei suoi attacchi di schizofrenia, inutile dire che troppe volte gli va storta, ma qualche volta gli va anche bene. Sempre senza un soldo in tasca, costretto spessissimo a dormire al addiaccio o a digiunare la maggior parte delle volte, nonostante tutto Willy continua la sua missione... Finché un giorno lui e Mr Bones sono costretti a separarsi, e dopo una mirabolante sogno reincarnazione di Mr Bones , questo riprende le sue peregrinazioni da solo alla ricerca di una nuova vita. Sulla sua strada difficoltà di ogni genere, ma nonostante tutto nei suoi sogno potrà sempre avere l' appoggio del suo compagno di vita, che lo consiglierà, nel suo bizzarro modo, sulle scelte migliori da fare:"Willy annui.- adesso vado,- aggiunse,- ma prima voglio solo ricordarti una cosa che potresti avere dimenticato-. Si era già alzato in piedi e aspettava che le porte si aprissero.- te la ricordi Mami-san, Mr Bones?-Sicuro che la ricordo. Per chi mi hai preso?-Bene... Hanno tentato di uccidere anche lei. Le hanno dato la caccia peggio che a un cane,e per salvarsi non ha avuto altra scelta che fuggire. Anche gli uomini possono essere trattati come cani amico mio, e a volta devono dormire nei fienili e nei prati perché non hanno altri posti dove andare .Prima di compiangerti troppo , ricorda almeno che non sei il primo cane a restare solo."Così, nonostante tutto, Mr Bones continuerà il suo viaggio, finché non deciderà di raggiungere il suo padrone nella terra dei suoi sogni Timbuctù. Un posto magico e favoloso dove finalmente i cani e gli uomini possono a parlarsi da pari a pari e dove Willy e lui non potranno più essere separati ...
What do You think about Timbuktu (2000)?
Marvelous book. Look, if you are a dog owner, or have been or love dogs you have to read this book. I don't think dog books usually work, but this one does. You are in the head of a dog, Mr. Bones. You say, “It just cannot be good!” but I swear it is. Mr. Bones is a scruffy dog. He has a hard life, all sorts of different owners. His first owner was Willy, a bit of a tramp but he had hard times, and then he died. Seven "good" years with Willy, but life goes on.....unless, unless he can get back to Willy! What makes this book special is that Paul Auster knows how dogs think. Yeah sure, a dog can get confused, but who doesn't?! Secondly, it is so damn funny. And sad....because sadness is tied to good memories. Love and happiness, hard times and good times and sadness, well, they all go together. Don’t they?One thought of Mr. Bones: "Just turn around the letters of dog and what do you have?"The narration by Joe Barrett was superb. Couldn't be improved. He just reads the lines, adds only a bit of inflection just when needed. He knows when to pause. Tell me, does a book have to be serious to be considered worthy of four stars? I don't think so. Read this. It is LOTS of fun.......and sad. I have bought another book by this talented author. I cannot stop here!
—Chrissie
This was a terrific story. Short book, read it in almost one sitting. Tale from a dog’s perspective of life with his homeless master. Willie Guervich, Mr. Bones’ master, is the schizophrenic homeless man from Brooklyn. Mr. Bones is the dog, he understands humans and remembers things from when he was a puppy and things about Willie. In the story we start with Willie, who changes his last name to Christmas, and Mr. Bones going to Baltimore Maryland to look for Willie’s old teacher who supported his writing. Mr. Bones loves his master and is thoroughly distressed at the prospect of him dying and worries about what will become of him. He sees that Willie’s aimless plan of finding the teacher he hasn’t seen in years as hopeless. They try to locate the address and can’t find it. Willie lies down on the pavement to rest as he’s getting weaker and weaker. Mr. Bone goes through other owners but thinks about Willie all the time and looks for him. He remembers that Willie would tell him that when people die, they go to Timbuktu. Mr. Bones was never clear on where dogs go when they die and Willie never told him. I don't want to tell you too much more, just read it but be prepared to cry.
—Margaret
Using third-person omniscient narrative voice but through a point of view of a dog Auster gives us an account of a personal tragedy of a dying vagabond schizophrenic poet Willy G. Christmas and his only friend and confidant Mr Bones, his old faithful.The novella opens with Willy's imminent death and a struggle to find his old schoolteacher to entrust her with his writing and to ask her to find Bones a new home.None of his efforts, however, yields success; Willy passes on leaving Bones on his own.In this both funny and heartbreaking story we see Bones wandering about streets, change homes, adopting new owners.Auster's honest and authentic doggy's voice offers a sharp depiction of society, its cruelty and hypocrisy.It is a masterfully written fable that reads like a social drama where dog is really the underdog, a happy family a utopia, and true friends a rare commodity. Will Bones trade his freedom for a comfort of a home or join Willy in Timbuktu “Where the map of this world ends, that's where the map of Timbuktu begins”?I enclose a passage from the book that tickled my linguistic appetite: “Mr. Bones understood. He always understood what Willy said to him. This had been the case for as long as he could remember, and by now his grasp of Ingloosh was as good as any other immigrant who had spent seven years on American soil. It was his second language, of course, and quite different from the one his mother had taught him, but even though his pronunciation left something to be desired, he had thoroughly mastered the ins and outs of its syntax and, grammar.”
—Paula
