Well, maybe, but The Brooklyn Follies is as insular as it is restorative. Cued by the Hotel Existence, a fantastic creation by the fallen-everything guy Harry Brightman, The Brooklyn Follies shares "the promise of a better world, a place that was more than just a place, but an opportunity, a place to live inside your dreams." Auster makes mystical and full everyday life and its little guys - "It didn't matter how small your life was. What happened to you was just as important as what happened to everyone else" - and in doing so leaves both behind, chucking up a vision of blissful contentment that waits forever at the edge of his colorful main characters. Life via absorption in the Story, the big idea here, leads Glass to walk happily away from a hospital verdict — you're fine! — under the shadow of the Twin Towers, forty-six minutes before they come down. Auster wants redemption, but it's hard to imagine Glass and his little gang even looking up.
