Paul Auster’s ‘Mr. Vertigo’ is a masterpiece. This simple but profound story of a man’s life is unexpected, and full of allegories to human life, identity and the 20th century in America. Young Walter Clairborne Rawley, an orphan in the city of St. Louis, takes off to Kansas on a journey with a mysterious passerby, Master Yehudi, a Hungarian gypsy-like gentleman that promises to teach him how to fly. Thinking that this flying business is just some craziness, the boy decides to join the Master, having nothing –no family, no friends– to cling to in the big city, and goes the flattness and desolation of the place where “the sky is the only friend you have”. It’s here where Walt’s life unfolds in the most wonderful and unexpected ways. Adaptation, identity, difference, and the desires and visions to reach a place of greatness, are all notions that Auster illuminates but shatters when the unexpected alters what you think is unshakeable. This bareness and nakedness of human yearning, when all that you thought is not anymore, is what moves and glorifies this text. I truly admire when an artist can reflect on something profound and complex with such purity and almost childlike bliss. I strongly recomend this read.