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Dieses Buch gibt es in einer neuen Auflage:
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Paul Auster ist ein intellektueller Schriftsteller, der es vorzieht, über Vernunft und Logik in das Innerste seiner Leser vorzudringen. Als Willy stirbt, gelangt er über ein Meer von Worten ins Jenseits. Bei Mr. Bones handelt es sich um einen Hund, der über metaphysische Themen wie das Leben nach dem Tod nachdenken kann -- Willy hatte es immer als "Timbuktu" bezeichnet. Was, wenn Haustiere dort nicht erlaubt wären? Das war wohl ziemlich unwahrscheinlich, und doch hatte er lange genug gelebt um zu wissen, daß alles möglich war, daß das Unmögliche immer wieder wahr wurde. Vielleicht war dies eines dieser unmöglichen Dinge, und darin lagen Tausende Ängste und Qualen verborgen, ein undenkbarer Horror, der ihn jedesmal erfaßte, wenn er darüber nachdachte.
Als Willy tot und Mr. Bones auf sich alleine gestellt ist, verschlechtert sich seine Situation zunehmend. Der jetzt herrenlose Hund sieht sich einer Reihe von Verraten, Ablehnungen und Enttäuschungen ausgesetzt.
Indem er in die Haut eines Hundes schlüpft, gelingt es Auster, menschliche Grausamkeiten und eher seltene Freundlichkeit aus einem einzigartigen Blickwinkel heraus zu kommentieren. Aber der Leser sei gewarnt: Die Welt in Timbuktu ist düster, und auch die gelegentlichen Momente von Gnade sind nur von kurzer Dauer. -- Alix Wilber -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine andere Ausgabe: Gebundene Ausgabe .
Following his critically acclaimed The New York Trilogy and The Invention of Solitude, Paul Auster's new novel is a sad and witty saga of a dog's life. With the imminent demise of his first master, Willy G. Christmas--on his way to "Timbuktu"--Mr Bones faces an uncertain future as a "lost" dog, an ownerless dog, a homeless dog.
Timbuktu is a tale of what happens, before and after Willy's death: the dilemmas of ethics and affection, of a man and a dog in search of love and friendship. In Mr Bones' dreams, Willy comes back, exhorting, advising, allegorising: "People get treated like dogs, too, my friend, and sometimes they have to sleep in barns and meadows because there's nowhere else for them to go." Like Mom-san, Willy's mother, "hunted ... down like a dog" in Warsaw. The connection is crucial to the novel; its sustained, but discreet, reflection on the vicissitudes of human--and canine--love and hate. --Vicky Lebeau -- Dieser Text bezieht sich auf eine vergriffene oder nicht verfügbare Ausgabe dieses Titels.
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The major lesson learned here: don't let other reviews make up your mind for you. I am very pleased that I finally picked Timbuktu up and read it. It is a fine book, well written in a style that is almost conversational. The characters are rich (or as rich as they can be in a 180 page novel) and telling the story from the point of view of Mr. Bones was a fantastic idea.
This might not go down as Auster's best, but its certainly worth the time and is a valuable addition to the Auster bibliography.
The writing is spectacular and rich and makes the book worth reading independent of the plot. One of the enjoyable aspects of reading Auster is his ability to change his writing style between books. He did an excellent job describing the streets of Baltimore. While the story is not as philosophical and dense as his other works, he is not selling out. Few people see this as Auster dealing with the death of his father and have little patience for this story. I think that when it comes to fans of Auster, intellectual snobbery plays a part in there reviewing process, not that it come without warrant. After reading so many stories that are philosophically changing, this is a bit of a no-brainer. Still, it can be a great read for someone who can enjoy simplicity in life. I read Timbuktu in one sitting.
A friend of mine once gave me a dirty look when I was bad mouthing Gallagher, the comedian. When I asked him why he liked him, he explained it like this: "Something about a guy smashing fruit with a big mallet, just brings a smile to my face." I guess I get the filling about a dog that thinks.
Through a successful omniscient, third-person narrator, Timbuktu portrays a climactic period in the lives of these two discounted characters. Their street experiences have an interesting and very subtle effect of a hybrid parable/fable which is easy to miss upon a casual reading. Willy has spent his life writing and abusing his body due to psychological condition and a deep hurt that is never (and need not be) identified. His conversations with the cognizant Mr. Bones while teetering on the outskirts of a cold society to which Willy has been generous and compassionate are engrossing as they illustrate both the wit and deterioration of a bright mind. But Auster's story doesn't shout, is not didactic. Instead its subtleties may cause readers to reconsider the demise of community--for people as well as domestic companions.
Auster's writing is smooth as silk but his story has barbs. After reading this book, Willy and Mr. Bones continued to haunt my thoughts. Timbuktu is so smoothly delivered that it took me days to realize the concealed ethic in this humanitarian story. This is a seemingly simple book with hidden power, worthy of any reader.
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