The Invention of Solitude

by Paul Auster

  “…The ordeal was made exceptionally long because some delay had occurred in the preparation of the grave and while she waited she called Sam, the youngest boy, to her, and tucked his coat collar more closely around his neck. She spoke quietly to him but with this exception she was silent until after the rites were finished….

  “A prominent figure at the funeral was Samuel Auster, of Detroit, the brother of Harry Auster. He took as his especial care the younger children and attempted to console them in their grief.

  “In speeches and demonstrations Auster appeared very bitter about his brother’s death. He showed clearly that he disbelieved the theory of suicide and uttered remarks which savoured of accusations of the widow….

  “The Rev. M. Hartman…preached an eloquent sermon at the grave. He lamented the fact that the first person to be buried in the new cemetery should be one who had died by violence and who had been killed in his prime. He paid tribute to the enterprise of Harry Auster but deplored his early death.

  “The widow appeared to be unmoved by the tributes paid to her dead husband. She indifferently opened her coat to allow the patriarch to cut a gash in her knitted sweater, a token of grief prescribed by the Hebrew faith.

  “Officials in Kenosha fail to give up the suspicion that Auster was killed by his wife….”

  The paper of the following day, January 26th, carried the news of the confession. After her meeting with the rabbi, she had requested a conference with the chief of police. “When she entered the room she trembled a little and was plainly agitated as the chief provided a chair. ‘You know what your little boy told us,’ the latter began when he realized that the psychological moment had come. ‘You don’t want us to think that he’s lying to us, do you?’ And the mother, whose face has been for days so masked as to reveal nothing of the horror hidden behind it, tore off the camouflage, became suddenly tender, and sobbed out her awful secret. ‘He isn’t lying to you at all; everything he has said is true. I shot him and I want to make a confession.’

  This was her formal statement: “My name is Anna Auster. I shot Harry Auster at the city of Kenosha, Wisconsin on the 23rd day of January A.D. 1919. I have heard people remark that three shots were fired, but I do not remember how many shots were fired that day. My reason for shooting the said Harry Auster is on account of the fact that he, the said Harry Auster, abused me. I was just like crazy when I shot the said Harry Auster. I never thought of shooting him, the said Harry Auster, until the moment I shot him. I think that this is the gun I shot the said Harry Auster with. I make this statement of my own free will and without being forced to do so.”

  The reporter continues, “ On the table before Mrs. Auster lay the revolver with which her husband was shot to death. As she spoke of it she touched it falteringly and then drew her hand back with a noticeable tremor of horror. Without speaking the chief laid the gun aside and asked Mrs. Auster if there was more she cared to say.

  “ ‘That’s all for now,’ she replied composedly. ‘You sign it for me and I’ll make my mark.’

  “Her orders—for a little moment she was almost regal again—were obeyed, she acknowledged the signature, and asked to be returned to her cell…”

  At the arraignment the next day a plea of not guilty was entered by her attorney. “Muffled in a plush coat and a boa of fox fur, Mrs. Auster entered the court room…. She smiled at a friend in the crowd as she took her seat before the desk.”

  By the reporter’s own admission, the hearing was “uneventful.” But still, he could not resist making this observation: “An incident occurred upon her return to her barred room which furnished a commentary on Mrs. Auster’s state of mind.

  “A woman, held on a charge of association with a married man, had been brought to the jail for incarceration in an adjoining cell. Upon seeing her, Mrs. Auster asked about the newcomer and learned the particulars in the case.

  “‘She ought to get ten years,’ she said as the iron door clanged pitilessly. ‘It was one of her kind that put me here.’”

  After some intricate legal discussions concerning bail that were elaborately reported for the next few days, she was set free. “ ‘Have you any notion that this woman will not appear for trial?’ the court asked the attorneys. It was attorney Baker who answered: ‘Where could a woman with five children like these go? She clings to them and the court can see that they cling to her.’”

  For a week the press was quiet. Then, on February 8th, there was a story about “the active support that the cause is being given by some of the papers published in the Jewish language in Chicago. Some of these papers contained columns arguing the case of Mrs. Auster and it is declared that these articles have strongly urged her defense….

  “Friday afternoon Mrs. Auster with one of her children sat in the office of her attorney while portions of these articles were read. She sobbed like a child as the interpreter read to the attorney the contents of these papers….

  “Attorney Baker declared this morning that the defense of Mrs. Auster would be one of emotional insanity….

  “It is expected that the trial of Mrs. Auster will be one of the most interesting murder trials ever tried in the Circuit Court for Kenosha county and the human interest story that has been featured in the defense of the woman up to this time is expected to be largely developed at the trial.”

  Then nothing for a month. On March 10th the headlines read:

  ANNA AUSTER TRIED SUICIDE

  The suicide attempt had taken place in Peterboro, Ontario in 1910—by taking carbolic acid and then turning on the gas. The attorney brought this information before the court in order to be granted a delay in the trial so that he would have enough time to secure affidavits. “Attorney Baker held that at the same time the woman had endangered the lives of two of her children and that the story of the attempted suicide was important in that it would show the mental condition of Mrs. Auster.”

  March 27th. The trial was set for April 7th. After that, another week of silence. And then, on April 4th, as if things had been getting just a bit too dull, a new development.

  AUSTER SHOOTS BROTHER’S WIDOW

  “Sam Auster, brother of Harry Auster… made an unsuccessful attempt to avenge the death of his brother just after ten o’clock this morning when he shot at Mrs. Auster The shooting occurred just outside the Miller Grocery Store….

  “Auster followed Mrs. Auster outside the door and fired once at her. Mrs. Auster, though she was not struck by the shot, fell to the sidewalk and Auster returned to the store declaring according to witnesses, ‘Well, I’m glad I done that.’ There he calmly awaited arrest….

  “At the police station… Auster, entirely broken down nervously, gave his explanation of the shooting.

  “ ‘That woman,’ he said, ‘has killed my four brothers and my mother. I’ve tried to help but she won’t let me.’ Then as he was being led down to the cell, he sobbed out, ‘God’s going to take my part though, I know that.’

  “At his cell Auster declared that he had tried everything within his power to help the children of his dead brother. The fact that the court had refused to appoint him administrator for the estate

  because they declared that the widow had some rights in the case had preyed on his mind recently…‘She’s no widow,’ he commented on that incident this morning. She is a murderer and should have no rights….’”

  “Auster will not be arraigned immediately in order to make a thorough investigation of the case. The police admit that the death of his brother and subsequent events may have so preyed on his mind that he was not entirely responsible for his deed. Auster expressed several times a hope that he should die too and every precaution is being taken to prevent him from taking his own life….”

  The next day’s paper had this to add: “Auster spent a rather troublesome night in the city lockup. Several times the officers found him sobbing in the cell and he appeared to be hysterical….

  “It was admitted that Mrs. Auster had suffered from a ‘ba
d case of nerves’ as a result of the fright which had attended the attack on her life on Friday, but it was declared that she would be able to be in court when the case against her is called for trial on Monday evening.”

  After three days the state rested its case. Contending that the murder had been premeditated, the district attorney relied heavily on the testimony of a certain Mrs. Mathews, an employee at the Miller Grocery Store, who contended that “Mrs. Auster came to the store three times on the day of the shooting to use the telephone. On one of those occasions, the witness said, Mrs. Auster called up her husband and asked him to come to the house and fix a light. She said that Auster had promised to come at six o’clock.”

  But even if she invited him to the house, it does not mean that she intended to kill him once he was there.

  It makes no difference anyway. Whatever the facts might have been, the defense attorney shrewdly turned everything to his own advantage. His strategy was to offer overwhelming evidence on two fronts: on the one hand, to prove infidelity on the part of my grandfather, and on the other, to demonstrate a history of mental instability on the part of my grandmother—the two of them combining to produce a case of justifiable homicide or homicide “by reason of insanity.” Either one would do.

  Attorney Baker’s opening remarks were calculated to draw every possible ounce of sympathy from the jury. “He told how Mrs. Auster had toiled with her husband to build up the home and happiness which once was theirs in Kenosha after they had passed through years of hardships…. ‘Then after they had labored together to build up this home,’ continued Attorney Baker, ‘there came this siren from the city and Anna Auster was cast aside like a rag. Instead of supplying food for his family, her husband kept Fanny Koplan in a flat in Chicago. The money which she had helped to accumulate was being lavished on a more beautiful woman and after such abuse is there any wonder that her mind was shattered and that for the moment she lost control of her senses.’”

  The first witness for the defense was Mrs. Elizabeth Grossman, my grandmother’s only sister, who lived on a farm near Brunswick, New Jersey. “She made a splendid witness. She told in a simple manner the whole story of the life of Mrs. Auster; of her birth in Austria; of the death of her mother when Mrs. Auster was but six years of age; of the trip with her sister to this country eight years later; of long hours served as a maker of hats and bonnets in New York millinery shops; of how by this work the immigrant girl accumulated a few hundred dollars. She told of the marriage of the woman to Auster just after she reached her twenty-third birthday and of their business ventures; of their failure in a little candy store and their long trip to Lawrence, Kas., where they attempted to start over and where ______, the first child was born; of the return to New York and the second failure in business which ended in bankruptcy and the flight of Auster into Canada. She told of Mrs. Auster following Auster to Canada; of the desertion by Auster of the wife and little children and how he had said that he was ‘going to make way with himself [sic] and how he had told the wife that he was taking fifty dollars so that when he was dead it might be found on him and used to give him a decent burial…. She said that during their residence in Canada they were known as Mr. and Mrs. Harry Ball….

  “A little break in the story which could not be furnished by Mrs. Grossman, was furnished by former Chief Constable Archie Moore and Abraham Low, both of Peterboro county, Canada. These men told of the departure of Auster from Peterboro and the grief of his wife. Auster, they said, left Peterboro July 14,1909, and the following night Moore found Mrs. Auster in a room of their shabby home suffering from the effects of gas. She and the children lay on a mattress on the floor while the gas was flowing from four open jets. Moore told of the further fact that he had found a vial of carbolic acid in the room and that traces of the acid had been found on the lips of Mrs. Auster. She was taken to a hospital, the witness declared, and was ill for many days. Both of these men declared that in their opinion there was no doubt but that Mrs. Auster showed signs of insanity at the time she attempted her life in Canada.”

  Further witnesses included the two oldest children, each of whom chronicled the family’s domestic troubles. Much was said about Fanny, and also the frequent squabbles at home. “He said that Auster had a habit of throwing dishes and glass ware and that at one time his mother’s arm had been so badly cut that it was necessary to call a physician to attend her. He declared that his father used profane and indecent language toward his mother at these times….”

  Another witness from Chicago testified that she had frequently seen my grandmother beat her head against the wall in fits of mental anguish. A police officer from Kenosha told how at “one time he had seen Mrs. Auster running wildly down a street. He stated that her hair was ‘more or less’ dishevelled and added that she acted much like a woman who had lost her mind.” A doctor was also called in, and he contended that she had been suffering from “acute mania.”

  My grandmother’s testimony lasted three hours. “Between stifled sobs and recourse to tears, she told the story of her life with Auster up to the time of the ‘accident’…. Mrs. Auster stood the ordeal of cross questioning very well, and her story was told over three times in almost the same way.”

  In his summation “Attorney Baker made a strong emotional plea for the release of Mrs. Auster. In a speech lasting nearly an hour and a half he retold in an eloquent manner the story of Mrs. Auster. … Several times Mrs. Auster was moved to tears by the statements of her attorney and women in the audience were sobbing several times as the attorney painted the picture of the struggling immigrant woman seeking to maintain their home.”

  The judge gave the jury the option of only two verdicts: guilty or innocent of murder. It took them less than two hours to make their decision. As the bulletin of April 12th put it: “At four thirty o’clock this afternoon the jury in the trial of Mrs. Anna Auster returned a verdict finding the defendant not guilty.”

  April 14th. “ ‘I am happier now than I have been for seventeen years,’ said Mrs. Auster Saturday afternoon as she shook hands with each of the jurors following the return of the verdict. ‘As long as Harry lived,’ she said to one of them, ‘I was worried. I never knew real happiness. Now I regret that he had to die by my hand. I am as happy now as I ever expect to be….’

  “As Mrs. Auster left the court room she was attended by her daughter… and the two younger children, who had waited patiently in the courtroom for the return of the verdict which freed their mother….

  “At the county jail Sam Auster… while he cannot understand it all, says he is willing to abide by the decision of the twelve jurors….

  “ ‘Last night when I heard of the verdict,’ he said when interviewed on Sunday morning, ‘I dropped on the floor. I could not believe that she could go clear free after killing my brother and her husband. It is all too big for me. I don’t understand, but I shall let it go now. I tried once to settle it in my way and failed and I can’t do anything now but accept what the court has said.’”

  The next day he, too, was released. “‘I am going back to my work in the factory,’ Auster told the District Attorney. ‘Just as soon as I get money enough I am going to raise a head stone over the grave of my brother and then I am going to give my energies to the support of the children of one of my brothers who lived in Austria and who fell fighting in the Austrian army.’

  “The conference this morning brought out the fact that Sam Auster is the last of the five Auster brothers. Three of the boys fought with the Austrian army in the world war and all of them fell in battle.”

  In the last paragraph of the last article about the case, the newspaper reports that “Mrs. Auster is now planning to take the children and leave for the east within a few days…. It was said that Mrs. Auster decided to take this action on the advice of her attorneys, who told her that she should go to some new home and start life without anyone knowing the story of the trial.”

  It was, I suppose, a happy ending. At least for the newsp
aper readers of Kenosha, the clever Attorney Baker, and, no doubt, for my grandmother. Nothing further is said, of course, about the fortunes of the Auster family. The public record ends with this announcement of their departure for the east.

  Because my father rarely spoke to me about the past, I learned very little about what followed. But from the few things he did mention, I was able to form a fairly good idea of the climate in which the family lived.

  For example, they moved constantly. It was not uncommon for my father to attend two, or even three different schools in a single year. Because they had no money, life became a series of escapes from landlords and creditors. In a family that had already closed in on itself, this nomadism walled them off entirely. There were no enduring points of reference: no home, no town, no friends that could be counted on. Only the family itself. It was almost like living in quarantine.

  My father was the baby, and for his whole life he continued to look up to his three older brothers. As a boy he was known as Sonny. He suffered from asthma and allergies, did well in school, played end on the football team and ran the 440 for the track team at Central High in Newark. He graduated in the first year of the Depression, went to law school at night for a semester or two, and then dropped out, exactly as his brothers had done before him.

  The four brothers stuck together. There was something almost medieval about their loyalty to one another. Although they had their differences, in many ways did not even like one another, I think of them not as four separate individuals but as a clan, a quadruplicate image of solidarity. Three of them—the youngest three—wound up as business partners and lived in the same town, and the fourth, who lived only two towns away, had been set up in business by the other three. There was scarcely a day that my father did not see his brothers. And that means for his entire life: every day for more than sixty years.