In April 2008 the new York Times a vignette from the life of the writer Paul Auster, in which he remembered his life in 1968. It begins with the sentence: “It was the year of years, the year of madness, the year of fire, blood and death.” The United States was at war in Vietnam, Paul Auster studied literature at Columbia University – the very university that is currently in the headlines again because of BDS-related hourly protests – and took part in the occupation of the Institute of Mathematics. The police broke up the sit-in, pulling him by his hair and stepping on his hand. “Symbolic gestures are not empty gestures,” the writer assured, “and the way things were back then, we did what we could.” At the end of the short article, Paul Auster referred to his current age – he was 61 at the time – and stated: “Now, as I sit alone in this room, pen in hand, I realize that I am still crazy “I’m perhaps crazier than ever.”
Paul Auster is dead – an obituary for the smartest detective – culture
