Finally read Paul Auster's City of Glass (1985), the first in the New York trilogy that I have been meaning to read for ages. City of Glass is wacky, exceedingly smart, full of fun, and ideal for anyone (like me) who loves a good play with who the narrator is/play with what fiction is/ play with doubled identities. It tells the story of a detective set on a very strange course of events by a phone call late at night. Unlike many books set in my beloved hometown New York City, it's completely accurate about the city, a minor but gratifying fact. The prose is sparse but not totally ascetic and has some very lovely interiority such as this: "What he did not understand, however, was this: in that he was falling, how could he be expected to catch himself as well? Was it possible to be at the top and the bottom at the same time?" (179). My husband and I love the film based on Auster's Smoke (with Harvey Keitel, a must-see), and now I want to read so much more Auster!