Paul Auster was the bard of Brooklyn

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FOR BOOKISH students in the 1990s, it seemed no bedside table was without a dog-eared novel by Paul Auster. His books, including the popular "The New York Trilogy" (1987) and "The Music of Chance" (1990), featured beguiling ingredients for precocious readers: coincidences, cleverness and cool. His early stories borrowed the pacing of noirish detective thrillers, but also wryly warped the genre to ponder highfalutin ideas like the mutability of identity, the work of storytelling and the meaning of life. His heroes could be hapless, but they were also hip. There was also his photo on dust jackets, with a brooding gaze from hooded eyes. The effect was irresistible.

By the early 2000s many of these same readers were quick to say they had outgrown Mr Auster's books. He continued to write them—he produced 20 novels before he died on April 30th at the age of 77—but themes that were freshly playful and post-modern in the 1980s started to seem tired decades later.