I got this signed after a talk Paul Auster gave in London. By all accounts, this book is meant to be very bad (the reviews describe it as rotten) and I don't care for much of his recent output. He seems to be taking his navel-gazing to nigh unimaginable levlels. Nonetheless, when he signed this for me, I went dumb and stayed mute. I didn't gush as to how much some of his books have meant to me. Still, I'm keeping this as a valuable memento.
Joseph Conrad is buried in Canterbury of all places. I searched the cemetery online and, as it happens, it is literally right next to my university. So, armed with a camera, I located it and... here it is. A real master.
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