Invisible

As with the films of Woody Allen, Paul Auster’s novels often register as thinly veiled autobiography. At first, Invisible follows suit. Set at Columbia University (Auster’s alma mater) in 1967, the novel concerns a young poet, Adam Walker, and his tumultuous friendship with a mysterious visiting professor. Yet after its straightforward exposition, the narrative gradually grows stranger and more compelling. By the end of Invisible, the author has forsaken his comfort zone, yielding one of his most bracingly unpredictable stories to date.

The novel’s multilayered approach shouldn’t surprise Auster fans. As in 1992’s Leviathan, we get to know the main character largely through an old friend, who’s attempting to piece together Walker’s twisted life story. This structural gambit comes off as contrived in spots, but it doesn’t detract from the potency of Walker’s tale. Even given Auster’s affinity for intrigue, Invisible feels especially visceral: The author offers a gripping chronicle of how an act of random violence transforms Walker from naive sophomore into haunted head case. Auster also provides a highly complex portrait of his protagonist’s budding sexuality, depicting it not only as a newfound pleasure but also as another source of psychic torment.

Ultimately, Invisible isn’t really about Adam Walker’s loss of innocence so much as the aftershocks of that experience, reverberating nearly four decades into the future. It’s all but impossible to divine where the tale is headed, and as the novel reaches its profoundly peculiar conclusion, Auster takes great pains not to tie up too many loose ends. The result is a winningly elliptical mystery that’s at once textbook Auster and a satisfying departure.—Hank Shteamer

Auster reads Nov 5 at Barnes & Noble Union Square.

Buy Invisble on Amazon.com | Buy it on BN.com

See more Book reviews