It’s always dangerous to assume what inspired an author to try a specific style or theme. In the case of Paul Auster’s The Book of Illusions, though, my guess about his influences is intended as a complement: I think he was trying to copy Don DeLillo.
Unfortunately, you can’t copy a genius, and even if you are a genius, your genius will emerge in a unique way.
As similar as The Book of Illusions is to DeLillo’s corpus (lonely artists, films no one understands, black and white, twisting plot dissolving into plotlessness, self-conscious dialog, bizarre and grotesque actions of symbolic import,…), Illusions didn’t measure up. It was like expecting a cappuccino and getting a Nescafe with foamy milk. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, unless you’ve tasted great cappuccino.
