GHOSTS

Much less interesting than City of Glass (1985), this second exercise in avant-garde mystery metafiction follows a predictable, essentially familiar scenario: a detective, hired to shadow an enigmatic stranger, finds himself caught up in an existential, doppelganger-ish identity crisis. The detective, N.Y.C. circa 1947, is called Blue. He's hired by White to keep a close watch on Black, who spends nearly all his time writing (the story we're reading, perhaps?) in a Brooklyn Heights apartment. Blue, from a room across the way, conscientiously keeps a record of Black's virtually static life—while Blue's own life becomes similarly vacant. After months of this, Blue begins to suspect that White and Black are conspiring against him; he therefore pushes himself into confrontations with Black, initially genial (they discuss the Brooklyn ghosts of Walt Whitman et al.) but increasingly tense. (Black seems to be suicidal—or homicidal?) And there's an inevitably violent windup before the numbly literary fade-out. ("In my secret dreams, I like to think of Blue booking passage on some ship and sailing to China. Let it be China, then, and we'll leave it at that.") The flat, denatured, present-tense narration here—Auster is very much under certain nouveau-French influences—is fairly effective at first, with an understated equivalent of film noir that is only half-ironic. Finally, however, despite literary/philosophical digressions (from Walden to It's a Wonderful Life), this is a thin, derivative novella—devoid of genuine mystery-puzzle appeal (unlike City of Glass), thoroughly cliched in its mystery-as-metaphor pretensions.