With his latest book, Invisible, Paul Auster constructs a complex tale that challenges the ideas of memory and perception, truth and fiction, or perhaps really truth within fiction. Most interestingly, he does this almost indirectly, through reader reaction rather than with plot itself. The story doesn't dwell on these themes, but the unique way he weaves it provokes the reader to ultimately question the authenticity of everything he just absorbed.
Auster does this all with such impeccable craft and compelling prose, that I felt more delighted than deceived with each twist.
Against other books, Invisible is a must-read, but taken in the context of Auster's own bibliography, it falls just shy of The New York Trilogy. It's difficult to describe why I feel that way without going into too much detail about his literary devices, but suffice to say: With each day that passes since reading this novel, I find myself more satisfied and impressed by it, but by virtue of how it was written, there was a wall that distanced me from the characters while I was reading it.
Despite all that, I devoured it and look forward to reading it again. It also inspired me to re-read his other books, which I haven't given myself the opportunity to enjoy in ages.