An epic story that will take over your life. What a story! What brilliant writing! I fell in love with Paul Auster again after reading this book. The creativity, the intelligence, and the talent oozed throughout this amazing book. I absolutely LOVED it to bits!!

One of the most acclaimed episodes of the television show Community (2009-2015 NBC; 2015 Yahoo Screen), “Remedial Chaos Theory”, uses the quirky concept of the “choose your own adventure” narrative and exemplifies one of the best examples in popular media of constructing a story around diverging yet parallel plotlines. The roll of a die during a party determines which of the seven characters has to leave the room to pick up the recently-delivered pizza; in turn, the episode demonstrates how exactly the rest of evening plays out seven different times, depending on which of the seven friends is chosen at random to get the pizza.

The combination of the element of chance and watching how the group interacts with one another in seven different ways is key to making each timeline distinct and engaging. Most importantly, the decision made by the group to determine who has to leave by rolling the die is the most important factor leading to the split of timelines, rather than the actual randomness generated by the die, because it demonstrates that what happens in our lives, and the significance of these events, is not only due to chance, but to the choices we make, and how these choices ultimately tell us who we are.

I bring up this episode of Community because I couldn’t get it out of my mind while reading Paul Auster’s newest novel 4 3 2 1, which tells the story of Archie Ferguson, a young Jewish American growing up during the '50s and '60s, four different ways, beginning with his birth in Newark, New Jersey in 1947. Four timelines are interwoven through the book’s almost 900 pages, each delving into Ferguson’s (as he is referred to) experiences growing up in four different ways, rotating through stages detailing various phases of maturation. Small differences at the beginning of his lives, such as the relationship between his parents, his familial affairs, his friendships, and his interests in hobbies soon expand and balloon into vastly different sagas, affecting where he lives, where he goes to school, the kind of career he pursues, and the people with whom he falls in love.

Yet Ferguson himself remains generally constant across his four lives, even though not all of them progress equally far: he loves sports and writing, though which sports and what kind of writing diverge across timelines; he's passionate about ideals of goodness, equality, and justice during the turbulent political situations that occur over his lives. His lives are always, always enhanced by the presence of a girl named Amy Schneiderman: sometimes she's a friend, sometimes a lover, sometimes family, but she's one of the eternal elements that holds true across all four timelines, regardless of how they end.

It’s a totally fascinating concept that Auster has utilized in 4 3 2 1, to be sure, but as I continued the story, finding different moments of where I was charmed, heartened, and even emotionally affected across Ferguson’s four lives, my mind kept going back to “Remedial Chaos Theory” and how this single 23-odd minute segment of television made far better use of the tool of diverging timelines than a book that stands at 880 pages. Namely, 4 3 2 1 fails to use the clever premise of having four competing narratives interwoven with one another by completely neglecting the crucial element of choice in Ferguson’s lives.

Essentially, the vast majority of differences, both dramatic and small, that occur across Ferguson’s four lives are generated by actions outside of his control, rather than involving any decisions he makes. Having moments when Ferguson’s life diverges at perpendicular points explored in the four timelines, allowing us to see how Ferguson’s life would have changed as a result of his actions, we see Ferguson largely pulled along by the current of the events surrounding him. Indeed, the timelines diverge so early on from one another, and so potently at that, that there isn’t much of a point of comparison across Ferguson’s lives, and no real way to gauge the person Ferguson would have become had he only chosen option A instead of B, or vice versa.


“Remedial Chaos Theory” played with the randomness of the roll of a die, yes, but it also allowed us to see how characters we already knew would interact given a wrench thrown into their dynamic of one of the seven friends leaving the room. With the exception of his decision to eschew college entirely in one of the timelines in order to pursue his own independent writing career, Ferguson isn’t given opportunities to choose actively, and thus he remains the same person across four different lives.

I understand that Auster is likely using that element of consistency to make some kind of argument that who we are is something essential and immutable despite our circumstances, despite our joys and our moments of suffering, but without giving Ferguson agency and thus the ability to be different from one timeline to another, it became difficult at times to figure out which timeline I was even reading. I would have to try and figure out which of Ferguson’s lives I was reading about based on context clues rather than using Ferguson himself as a gauge. As 4 3 2 1 draws to a close, it becomes even less clear why Auster chose to tell Ferguson’s story four different ways, rather than three, five, or any other number greater than one, which makes the entire formal premise of the novel seem artificial and arbitrary.

If we set the premise of 4 3 2 1 aside, what's left is a collection of genuinely exciting and downright banal episodes in Ferguson’s lives. The fairly long digressions into the lives of Ferguson’s family members at times almost read like something out of Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex (2002), but in 4 3 2 1 they are just that -- digressions -- rather than elements of foreshadowing and later significance as in the Eugenides. The prose of 4 3 2 1 is functional, albeit generally uneven. There are, however, extended passages and sections about Ferguson’s activist sentiments, or about his talent for storytelling flowering in Paris, in New York, in New Jersey, that are marvelous. I found myself wishing that I was reading one of Ferguson’s stories, such as “The City of R.”, because it sounded more interesting than the existing text.

Yet moments that do end up being significant regarding Ferguson’s choices, such as his decision in one of his lives to shoplift (and the ensuing fallout), are given shorter shrift, and fewer pages, than more pedestrian moments of tween-age ennui. Most gratingly, because we see Ferguson go through adolescence multiple times across multiple timelines, Auster has unfortunately taken that to mean that we have to read about Ferguson going through puberty, and discovering sex, multiple times. For the sake of verisimilitude, I guess, all novels that involve boys coming of age have to go into some nauseating detail about bodily functions, but after Philip Roth's Portnoy’s Complaint (1969) laid it bare, is there really anything more to be said on this subject?

The question of whether I found a book to be worthwhile is gauging my desire, upon finishing it, to immediately flip back to the first page and relive the adventure all over again. 4 3 2 1 did not inspire this ritual. Ultimately, the novel doesn’t fulfill the promise of its premise, and the moments when I was genuinely excited by the twists and turns of Ferguson’s lives were outnumbered by the moments of plowing through inelegant writing that could have used another pass at the editor.

I had a lot of trouble getting into this book, sadly, so I didn't finish it. If you can't crack an 800+-page book by the time you're 10 percent in, you know you're in trouble.

I hardly know where to begin in reviewing this book. I have never read a book quite like it. '4321' is epic in its scope and detail, as it follows the four parallel lives of Archie Ferguson. The book is exquisitely written, and despite its length (it is really, really long) it never gets dull or sloppy. Paul Auster is truly a master of his craft. Because the book is so long and so dense, it took me a very long time to read. I put it down a couple of times and read other books in the meantime, but I never wanted to give up on it. I was sad to say goodbye to Archie in the end. Highly recommended.

This is certainly a book that demands a fair amount of reading stamina – and much concentration – although in many ways it is a straightforward narrative, the coming-of-age story of Archie Ferguson, born in 1947, as we follow him from infancy to adulthood. Only there isn’t just one Archie Ferguson, there are four, all of whom live parallel lives. These four versions of a life are not always easy to keep track of as they are very similar and I wasn’t always sure which one I was reading about. I found it difficult at times to distinguish one from another. Yet I found the novel absorbing and immersive and in a way I didn’t care that I occasionally confused one Archie with another. These plural lives, over nearly 900 pages, give the reader a panoramic portrait of one young man’s life in America over the often tumultuous post-war years plus a panoramic picture of American society in the wider context, with the historical background always in evidence, and the rich and detailed narrative drew me in so that I just went with the flow. Having now finished it I can’t in all honesty remember what each individual Archie did but somehow it doesn’t seem to matter. A bildungsroman par excellence and a wonderfully compelling tale. Not without its faults, admittedly – it sometimes meanders a bit too much and gets bogged down in some of the historical events described – but overall a remarkable and unforgettable novel.

The path we travel to become who we are is a unique one. The choices we make (and don’t make) – as well as those that are made (or not made) for us – steer us into a specific life.

Paul Auster has chosen to show us not one but four such paths in his latest novel “4321”. In this wildly ambitious and meticulously conceived book, Auster plays out the early life of one New Jersey boy named Archibald “Archie” Ferguson in four different acts, each devoted to relating the voyage into adulthood through a tumultuous time in alternate and ever-diverging ways.

Archibald Isaac Ferguson is born in Newark in March of 1947 to Stanley and Rose (nee Adler) Ferguson. Such is our introduction to the young man whose life we will see play out in four parallel and very different ways.

One Archie might grow up in a stable, loving household, while another might have to deal with youthful tragedy. This Archie might excel in the classroom, while that one might dominate the playing field and still another might do both. Different scholastic experiences, different personal ones; different paths toward self-awareness and sexuality.

All will love and lose. All will have an inescapable connection to the passionate and enigmatic Amy Schneiderman. All will find themselves drawn to the chaos inherent to the country in the 1960s, the protests and the riots and the general societal upheaval. All will have a massive and enduring love for mother Rose.

Each Archie is fully realized, traveling the complicated path toward adulthood as best he can. The circumstances that surround him in each narrative drift away from one another – sometimes gradually, sometimes slowly, but constantly. The person that Archie Ferguson becomes also fragments from that singular beginning. His personality, his beliefs, his entire identity – it all differs from Archie to Archie. From adolescence to college and into adulthood, each journey is its own.

“4321” is an absolutely remarkable book. While one might consider the multiple timelines to be something of a gimmick, one would be wrong; in the hands of a masterful writer like Auster, it becomes something magnificent. It is not one beautiful, delicate, compelling story – it is four.

We watch as Archie travels a certain distance down each path, and as he reaches a particularly important crossroads, Auster takes us to the next narrative and shows us the same distance traveled on another Archie’s lifeline. The clarity of distinction that this creates allows all four lives to unfold at a similar pace and ultimately allows for the interconnectedness between lives that erases the separation even as it highlights it.

This book is something of a revelatory reading experience. Auster has created a deeply personal book – no surprise considering the nature of his oeuvre – that allows him as an artist to look back at what might have been. His own youth is reflected heavily in the book, with one Archie Ferguson living a life that bears marked similarities to Auster’s own. But through questioning the circumstances of his early situation, he is able to build to wildly different conclusions than his own.

The notion of language’s inherent power permeates the book, with every incarnation of Archie finding a connection to words, albeit in some fairly disparate ways. Language is how each Archie interacts with the world around him, how he connects. Love’s many forms are explored thoroughly, from the familial to the carnal and everything in between.

All of this takes place against the burning backdrop of the 1960s, the bubbling cauldron of Vietnam and civil rights and the sexual revolution all igniting with flames reflected in the eyes of Archie Ferguson. Auster’s evocation of that place and time is sensual and brutally visceral, conjuring forth a five-sensory understanding of a world at large that is generally unchanged by the individual divergences of one young man.

In “4321,” Auster has created a symphony in four movements, one life that becomes four. It sprawls, yet manages to feel lean; despite its considerable length, it never once feels the least bit overwritten. This is a book that tells the story it wants to tell in precisely the manner in which it wants to tell that story. Filled with beauty and ugliness, with love and fear, with humor and hubris and history, “4321” is unforgettable.

An 880-page novel by Paul Auster? Yes, and a compelling page-turner, watching 4 alternate lives of an Archie Ferguson unfold, watching chance contingencies turn them into increasingly distant variants on each other, thinking about how your own life depends on accidents, basking in lots of sentence run-ons, bracing word choices, poignant emotions, lots of writing about sex, campus radicalism, the '50s and '60s, Columbia, going to Paris, translating French poetry, trying to write a new kind of fiction: Ferguson seems awfully like a version of Auster himself, and the closing pages suggest forcibly he is. If there's a "postmodern" cleverness to the tale, the Auster trademark some will eagerly search out, that's it. But the novel is plenty rich, deep, compelling without worrying about that bit.

Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher and author for the opportunity to read and review this book.

I have to admit to a few things up front - when I started seeing reviews of this book through various sources, I thought it sounded so intriguing and was thrilled to get an advance reader's copy. Then I saw it was 880 pages! That's a huge commitment but I was determined. I have also never read any of this author's works before so had no preconceived notions of his writing.

I'm also a little ambivalent about my review - I really liked the first half of the book but the second half seemed to get way too bogged down for me. And I'm not a prude but there was way too much sex of all varieties in this book, even though I get that it's about young men!

That being said, this was one of the most creative books I have read and I started talking about it right away. A young boy is born and from there, the book explores 4 different paths of his life. The lives of all the Fergusons are spelled out in different chapters taking place in different times of his life. So all the beginning stories are listed in chapters such as 1.1, 1.2, 1.3, 1.4 while we explore the 4 different paths.

The author uses paragraph or longer length sentences and it can be somewhat confusing to keep track of which Ferguson you're reading about, although the author does a great job of giving enough clues to figure it out. Plus, the same basic characters come in and out of Ferguson's life in all its versions.

While some might not, I really liked the ending so as I'm writing this I'm giving it 4 stars. If you would have asked me about 3/4 of the way through, I might have gone with 3. There is SO much information here - Ferguson in all lives is a huge movie and literature buff and the setting and time periods allow for much exploration of the political and racial movements of our time, especially during the 60s.

He is a genius, and the latest is a marvel. Truly, Auster has written The Great American Novel. It's messy, and complicated, and so terrific to get lost in the period prose. I loved it and happy to tell all.....

This one requires a backstory, so here it is. Some time ago I discovered Paul Auster and immediately fell in love with his work, it was one of those love at first book things. I've tracked down and read every work of fiction he's published and was dismayed to see that he appeared to have retired in 2010s. So you can imagine my excitement when I heard of 4 3 2 1 coming out and when my request for it was accepted on Netgalley....and then I noticed the page count. 880. Apparently during the interregnum Paul Auster has become verbose, very much so, Michael Chabon so, without the vocabulary building aspect. Thing is I'm a voracious reader, I read more than most and wouldn't think twice about reading several books amounting to the same page count, but since I dedicatedly finish every book I start there is something claustrophobic about being stuck in the same story for that long. Plus I'm a fan of concise storytelling and Auster has always been great impressively succinct. This one, in fact, amount to 3 or 4 average size books for him. The length is in this case utterly logical, but it is oppressive. Utterly logical because this is in fact 4 separate books tied together, 4 separate storylines of one life, a Schrödinger novel is there ever was one. A giant possibility puzzle...Ferguson, our young protagonist, seen through 4 different timelines divergent minutely or significantly, but always enough to affect changes, therefore leaving the readers to behold the variables (circumstances, families, schools) and constants (love, always), a grand experiment by an omniscient narrator, who isn't revealed until the every end. You can even pick and choose favorites, mine was #1, the tragic romantic struggling against the brutal current of life. Brutal since Ferguson matures (meaning the bulk of the book is set in) the tempestuous chaotic 60s, a time of great upheaval, political unrest, racism, counterculture, grand disenchantment with the world...so very much like the present day in a way. It's actually fascinating to see the striking similarities, although the world in the book is mostly presented from the eyes of the discontent youth violently waking up from a naïve dream of peaceable fair society. Is this an epic? It doesn't actually cover a very large span of time, instead concentrating on a variety of characters, events and so on. It's certainly a magnum opus, which might be why it took Auster all these years. It would have been an easier read in four separate parts, but it wouldn't have worked as intended. (Auster's New York trilogy doesn't hold a candle to this one at mere 390 pages and it was published as separate novels before being combined into one volume, it is also thematically united, but not quite like this). And yet can't say that I loved it. Not really. I liked it. Having finished it, very much appreciated it, but ultimately it was just too much work . I don't think of myself as a lazy reader, it took me 3 days to get through and was interspersed with two lesser (page count and context) books and it was a slog. And something of a quest. By far the longest book I've read in ages and, unlike War and Peace for example, it didn't have the sweep and range to warrant such a length. It was always good, Auster can still write like nobody's business whatever that peculiar expression denotes, it was sometimes great, but it was consistently exhaustive and often exhausting. It's also almost entirely narrated with nary a glimpse of a dialogue to liven up the pace. It doesn't drag as such, it just sometimes comes across as overwritten, maybe indulgently so. Actually, funnily enough, I was so excited to read the book I didn't take the time to check out the blurb, so initially when the stories started diverging there was a thought that maybe these are goofs since I was reading a Netgalley ARC (and a pretty goofed up ARC at that as far as formatting goes, for some reason no ft so that after reads like a er and so on) and only then I thought to check out the summary and the light bulb went on and it all connected. Anyway, for anyone who loves getting enveloped by a huge novel, this would be awesome. It has much to recommend itself, this is a well written, emotionally astute, terrifically vivid portrait of an era, fiendishly clever ending, absorbing book. Overwhelming, poignant, imposing, ambitious, important. Time should tell whether it utterly satisfied. Right now it's just a...whew, it's finished. The brain needs to process this properly. An Everest of a novel. A great behemoth of a novel. Conquered, read, enjoyed. Thanks Netgalley.

A grand and epic novel - long but rewarding. I loved seeing Ferguson's story play out differently in separate timelines. I didn't think it was espeically similar to Auster's other books, and would instead recommend to readers of Jonathan Safran Foer, Michael Chabon and Garth Risk Hallberg. I think it will bring the author to a whole new audience.

I have been a big Paul Auster fan for a long time, but this novel is a slog. Where once this writer was experimental and even avant-garde, he now seems to be simply meandering and logorrheic,