Martin Frost se ha pasado los últimos tres años escribiendo una novela y necesita un descanso. No tiene planes, sólo aspira a unas semanas en el campo, a no hacer nada, a vivir como vive una piedra. Y se instala en casa de sus amigos Jack y Anne Restau, que se han ido de viaje y le han ofrecido su casa, lejos del mundanal y neoyorquino ruido. Pero unas pocas horas de silencio y de aire puro bastan, y de repente una idea empieza a darle vueltas en la cabeza. Así comienzan siempre los cuentos: un minuto antes no hay nada, y al minuto siguiente, súbitamente, allí están, agazapados, esperando para salir a la luz, para trepar a la página, para empezar a vivir una vida que no es de piedra. Martin empieza a escribir, una línea apenas. No será un relato muy largo, veinticinco o treinta páginas, cuarenta a lo sumo, y se quedará en casa de sus amigos hasta que lo termine. Se va a dormir, y despierta al día siguiente con una chica medio desnuda en su cama que parece haber salido de la nada. Dice que se llama Claire, que es la sobrina de Anne Restau, tiene una llave de la casa, está allí para quedarse, pide disculpas por su súbita aparición, y finalmente es aceptada por Martin de mala gana. Pero el relato que está escribiendo, y el deseo por Claire, crecen al mismo tiempo, se expanden, ocupan un lugar en la realidad, cobran vida. Y cuando la escritura del cuento llega a su fin, la misteriosa y carnal Claire -Martin ha descubierto que los Restau no tienen sobrinas-, comienza a enfermar...
La vida interior de Martin Frost tiene una complicada historia. Al principio fue el guión de una película de treinta minutos que un productor alemán le pidió a Paul Auster para los Cuentos eróticos, una serie de doce episodios. El proyecto se encalló, Auster lo dejó de lado y comenzó a escribir El libro de las ilusiones. Pero como en la literatura -y en el cine- nada muere y todo se transforma, la historia de Martin Frost y Claire devino entonces una de las últimas películas de Hector Mann, el crepuscular cómico y director de cine protagonista de aquella novela «caleidoscópica como una sesión de magia». Y ahora, el último y quizá definitivo avatar de La vida interior de Martin Frost, la historia de un hombre que escribe un cuento sobre un hombre que escribe un cuento -y unas cuantas cosas más-, es este guión de la película del mismo nombre que Paul Auster ha escrito y dirigido, una fulgurante celebración de los goces del amor, del arte, de la invención, de la subterránea trama que nos envuelve a todos en el infinito laberinto de la vida y la literatura.
Paul Auster was the bestselling author of 4 3 2 1, Bloodbath Nation, Baumgartner, The Book of Illusions, and The New York Trilogy, among many other works. In 2006 he was awarded the Prince of Asturias Prize for Literature. Among his other honors are the Prix Médicis Étranger for Leviathan, the Independent Spirit Award for the screenplay of Smoke, and the Premio Napoli for Sunset Park. In 2012, he was the first recipient of the NYC Literary Honors in the category of fiction. He was also a finalist for the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award (The Book of Illusions), the PEN/Faulkner Award (The Music of Chance), the Edgar Award (City of Glass), and the Man Booker Prize (4 3 2 1). Auster was a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and a Commandeur de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His work has been translated into more than forty languages. He died at age seventy-seven in 2024.
uno scrittore in una casa isolata, una donna misteriosa, un racconto che prende vita, un male inspiegabile...
breve sceneggiatura, inserita in nuce ne Il Libro delle illusioni, in cui Auster esplora la sua personale visione della musa artistica e del processo creativo, lieve e intrigante, ma essendo una sceneggiatura forse andrebbe più vista sullo schermo...lo cercherò
Guión de la película que contiene una entrevista a manera de prólogo. La historia trata de un escritor que va a la casa desocupada de uno de sus amigos a terminar de escribir su última novela, en eso llega una joven estudiante universitaria, amiga de los dueños, que había quedado en ocupar la casa para estudiar. Entre ellos surge una historia de romance con un giro al final.
Curiosamente aunque el guión había sido concebido como una historia softcore, no la encuentro nada vulgar y es más bien enternecedora, un romance sincero y bien escrito, las indicaciones en el guión hacen que sea bastante creíble.
Está es la única película del autor que el visto y me pareció buena también, si te interesan los romances apasionado s y poco recomendables te recomiendo este libro.
Auster fue mi amor platónico de la adolescencia y de vez en cuando me gusta regresar a él.
Todavía no había leído este guión cinematográfico y me ha sorprendido la originalidad de Auster a la hora de crear una relación entre la realidad y la ficción.
Recomendable para los seguidores de Auster y para aquellos que disfruten leyendo un buen guión cinematográfico.
Paul Auster es uno de mis autores favoritos. La vida interior de Martin Frost es el guión cinematográfico que escribió para su película, del mismo nombre. No la he visto ni creo que lo haga, porque el guión me ha dejado muy buena sensación, y creo que con ello basta.
Está cargado de misterio y simbolismos. Al principio no se sabe muy bien qué es lo que está pasando, pero el desconcierto hace que quieras averiguar, que quieras seguir leyendo.
Y cuando por fin todo empieza a tener algo de sentido, te maravillas con el significado, con lo que Auster tiene en la cabeza y te está transmitiendo.
Es una historia de un hombre que escribe un cuento sobre un hombre que escribe un cuento, pero esto no es lo que importa. Lo importante es lo que va pasando mientras está escribiendo. No puedo contar más sin desvelar "sorpresas".
No estoy muy segura de que tal este la película en la que se basa este guión y tampoco creo verla para comprobarlo; pero el guión como tal me resultó medianamente entretenido.
Auster at his most delectably brilliant - delving as deeply into the nature of the passion of narrative and story as anyone in recent memory. A frame (times at least a half dozen) narrative so brilliantly paced and plotted and stacked that it reveals and obscures not just page by page, but line by line and word by word. Hints of Nabokov's Pale Fire touch the story at points like a glass ribbon on the very outskirts of Martin Frost, but the stories themselves (and make no mistake - there is a plurality there of the finest kind) are all Paul Auster in style and scope beauty. A must read for any Auster fan. If you know someone who is not, well, this may convert tat person on the spot!
This screenplay is for the dedicated Paul Auster reader, but nevertheless a quite amusing tale of the author (Martin Frost) and his muse, Claire. While Pygmalion comes to life in the hands of the sculptor, the fate of the relationship between Martin and Clair is more ambiguous. The screenplay actually led to a successful film.
Pictorially and artistically this is an interesting book. But there are problems. The text is from The Book of Illusions by Paul Auster. Effectively speaking it is a short story about a couple watching a 41-minute black and white film from the forties in which two people are thrown together in the empty house of mutual friends. The woman, Claire is there to study philosophy, the man, Martin to write a story. The text is set in a gray all caps non-serif font (Futura) so that the words run across the page or at angles down the page like ghostly words from a teletype. The text is broken up in such a way that the reader is not sure at once where the eyes should go next. Sometimes the text is hidden within an artfully folded page so that the reader must open that page instead of reading what appears to be the direct continuation of the text on top of the folded page. Sometimes the text is broken up seemingly for no apparent reason.
I thought the story itself was brilliant in the way Paul Auster was able to use media within media and point of view piled upon point of view to demonstrate levels of human consciousness. The text flows through the intricacies of plot and theme effortlessly as can only come from the skill of a masterful story-teller.
The artwork by Glenn Thomas is tantalizing in that some of the exclusively black and white drawings seem to promise a hint of something recognizable, but then do not entirely fulfill the promise. Occasionally there is a deliberately recognizable image set among the whirling lines and hints and allegations of images so that the viewer's mind is intrigued. Too often however (at least to this intrigued viewer's mind) the images tail off to something unclear. Perhaps my eye is not as well trained as it might be. Some of the images are on translucent paper, and some are like some of the text, folded under a page. Some of the drawings are of an optical, illusionary quality. The overall effect somehow complements a story about a black and white film about a man writing words on paper that he burns, or of a young woman studying philosophy that may or may not apply to her life, so that we have layers of consciousness and layers of experience somehow not fully grasped by the human mind or senses. There is also a light and graceful air to both the story and the artwork with a mildly comic undertone. The topography itself is the message, as Marshall McLuhan might have said.
I say "there are problems," but the problems, like all artistic problems may exist simultaneously in the minds of both artist and the consumer of art or in one or the other. In this case I am sure there will be those who say that this book is a good short story spoiled by a distracting presentation. On the other hand there will be others who find the story itself to be extraneous to the creativity of Glenn Thomas. For myself I think the collaboration of writer and illustrator does achieve its aim, which is to use two art forms side by side and literally on top of one another to exponentially augment an effect, an experience or an understanding.
--Dennis Littrell, author of the mystery novel, “Teddy and Teri”
*Disclaimer: I didn't watch the movie yet, only read the script*
I first discovered The Inner Life of Martin Frost while reading The Book of Illusions. I am doing a thesis on Paul Auster so when I realized The Inner Life of Martin Frost was an actual movie that Paul Auster wrote and directed, I had to find a way to watch it. I haven't watched it yet, but when I found the script in a second-hand bookstore, I had to buy it. And here we are now.
Here's the thing. Economically, The Inner Life of Martin Frost was not a success. And when you read the script, you can understand why.
The first half of the movie is good. It's really good. I really liked the whole muse thing. Claire is Martin's muse, helping him write his new book. Once the book is finished, she dies. Martin understands that and starts burning pages of his book to bring her back to life. The destruction of his work is bringing Claire back to life. That makes you wonder about the role of the author in his own work, how it affects him, the death of the author and what it means, and it fits very well in The Book of Illusions. That's where the movie was supposed to end. But it wasn't long enough for it to be a movie, and there comes the second half of the script.
The second half of the script is also well written, don't get me wrong, but it falls flat compared to the first half. In the second half, we understand that there is some sort of company that sends muses to artists to help them create. Anna, another muse of 18, is introduced. She has been sent to someone who's a bad writer which makes her look like some kind of zombie. Martin and Claire have to help her in order to be able to stay together. Otherwise, Claire is going to disappear forever, which is something both Martin and Claire want to avoid because they're in love. And then that's it. We don't know if they succeed or not, but let's assume they do.
In my personal opinion, I don't think this second half was necessary. I think the script would've been better if the relationship between Martin and Claire was shown more in-depth and ended with Martin bringing Claire back to life. The thing I didn't like much in the first half of the movie is the fact that Martin and Claire are supposed to fall in love, but the spectator (here, the reader) doesn't see it happening. At first, they meet abruptly and decide to stay away from each other, each staying on one side of the house. One page later, they're having a drink, and the next they're having sex. And from then on, they're in love. I have read a lot of romance books –like, a lot. A slow burn always does the trick. I think it would've been more interesting to see them falling in love than to see the whole Anna plot-line. Show us how they fell in love and what made them fall in love. Make them actually fall in love with each other. Being awkward at first. Discreet glances. Shy smiles. Eye contact. I think that would've worked better.
But hey, that's just my personal opinion. It doesn't change the fact that it's a rather well-written script.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
La novela inicia con una entrevista a Paul Auster acerca de cómo dirigió la película homónima al nombre de la novela, siendo su rol el de director y guionista. Finalizada la entrevista, la obra. En formato teatral Auster nos lleva por La vida interior de Martín Frost. La capacidad salvadora del amor y la soledad se entrelazan mientras Martín aprovecha la casa vacía de sus amigos para escribir y reencontrarse consigo mismo. La imaginación, la vieja máquina de escribir y encuentros que juegan entren el relato y la realidad.
Debió empezar con el guión, no con con la entrevista. Disfruté mucho cómo escribe Paul Auster, pero la historia fue puro yikes. Fortunato salvó la situación momentáneamente.
En mi mente el cast era:
Martin - WILLEM DAFOE Claire - Julie Delpy Fortunato - Carlos “Giuseppi Richeti” Alcántara Anna - Sabrina Carpenter
Didn't realise it was a screenplay when I picked it up in a deal with a couple of other Auster books. I also didn't realise until it was too late that it was a screenplay for a film I wouldn't want to see.
Me gustó el formato de guión cinematográfico porque la historia se lee con la imaginación dirigida (cortes de cámara, transiciones, montajes, etc.). Dudo que el resultado sea una buena película, pero la lectura se disfruta.
Coming off from Auster's "New York Trilogy" may be a hard sell for his others works, particularly for a screenplay, but one must try and look at different incarnations of writing objectively, despite having a certain bias towards the author. But the fact remains that Auster is always an enjoyable read--wrangling memories, the self, and being a flaneur, wherever that may be.
The book carries an interview piece with Auster and his producer for at least a few pages regarding the adaptation and how he came to write about "The Inner Life of Martin Frost." While I am not a fan of what seems to be a disclaimer or a background piece, as this could have been inserted after the screenplay, the interview rather pre-empts what transpires in the narrative. When Martin Frost wakes up with a stranger one morning, he realizes that what he might be missing in this drive to work on his manuscript seems to stem from his lack of affection. He finds this in the form of a woman, who may or may not exist in the physical world. The days pass by and Martin continues to work diligently, seemingly inspired by this strangers. But as it turns out, it was not only him who is experiencing this phenomenon. Could this be a part of himself that is projected in his life at the moment? Or is Martin living inside his head?
The descriptions are quite cinematic in nature, walking in and out of the visual elements such as the space, the look of the characters, several close up and wide shots on the area and the personalities involved. Althroughout the book, the notion on how memories can either be destructive or beneficial to an artist rings true, and the authors plays with them quite well as you keep questioning the merits of the physical and the imagined.
i hate to admit it, but this was lame. I love Auster and most of his work, but this one didn't cut it. I don't know if the film would be any better, but I don't see how. There is no substance to it. Nothing is pulling me in. Sorry Paul.
No es el hecho de que sea un guion de cine lo que no me ha llenado, los he leído desde pequeña y siempre me han gustado mucho. Es que no he conseguido que la historia me llegase, me ha faltado algo, quizá la visión del propio Auster, no sé...
Película u obra de teatro. La idea es buena, que también se utiliza en otros libros de Auster… la soledad, los sueños, las limitaciones y la realidad. Me hubiera gustado más en novela, con más detalle y reflexiones internas de los personajes.