Motherless Brooklyn

This was the first thing I've read by Jonathan Lethem. I have heard that some of his other novels are "hard to get into," but that is definitely NOT the case with Motherless Brooklyn. Lethem's portrait of his protagonist -- a 30-something year old orphan with Tourette's Syndrome, is in-depth, peppered with nuances, and a joy to imagine.Lethem is an adroit writer. Almost every sentence is a gem. I rarely feel this way about authors -- probably the last time I did was when I read Michael Cunningham's The Hours -- but I savored Lethem's paragraphs. This is not a book to skim.Of course, the book held other fascination for me as well: I grew up in the same neighborhood in Brooklyn that Lethem did (his sister and I went to the same grammar school) and seeing the neighborhood through his eyes is a treat. But you needn't be from South Brooklyn (or New York at all) to enjoy this novel. The mystery itself -- and the antagonists in the plot -- are reminiscent of Raymond Chandler or Daschiell Hammett: drawn in bold, black strokes with a surrounding aura of cigarette smoke and the smell of whiskey.

Like Paul Auster and very few others, Jonathan Lethem is a writer of literary fiction who dramatically alters his chops between novels and, with seemingly little effort, creates, again and again, works that ensnare readers delighting in oddly angled worlds, where a tilted plausibility replaces the stable statistics of everyday expectation. Motherless Brooklyn is delirious, overabundant, delightful creativity, with a strong, supple spine of research on Tourette's Syndrome to render palpably the faux detective Lionel Essrog, an unforgettable creation. This is literary jazz of the highest caliber: Lethem blows twelve bars of melody and takes off on soaring feats of improvisation, but always--whether carefully, or harrowingly, or softly, or howlingly humorously--bringing his daring rhetorical flights back home with great (and intuitively "fitting") imagination.Some reviewers have invoked the name "Nabokov" with reference to Motherless Brooklyn, praise that is not misplaced. Yes, this novel is squarely in the crime noir genre. Yes, Lethem might have situated his protogonist in any of half a dozen other genres. And, yes, locating a germ of "difference" and building standard materials around it is precisely what makes a "genre." But Lethem's language--and his principal deployer of language, the Tourettic Lionel--is, like Nabokov's in Lolita and Pale Fire, literally miraculous. And the Tourette's difference is, as it must be, integral to the story (which, considered as crime fiction, by the way, is good: populated with believable characters and dialogue, a suitably tangled plot, and honest, satisfying resolutions).Read this novel. Tell your friends. Make Jonathan Lethem's name familiar in their mouths as household words. His is a gifted new voice that should be widely supported.

If you're going to open up Lethem's most recent offering, Motherless Brooklyn, you'd better make sure you're comfortable. You're not going to be going anywhere for awhile. I can almost guarantee you'll read the first chapter at least twice in a row before moving on. The story itself is more reality based than many of Lethem's other works, but in no way is it any less original. Motherless Brooklyn revolves around a group of unofficial private detectives, quasi-tough guys who have been working together since they were fourteen when they were plucked out of a Brooklyn orphanage by a crime Lord wannabe. The main character, Lionel Essrog, has an unlikely affliction for a private detective: he suffers from Tourette's Syndrome. He is obsessed with words, numbers, touching, and often finds it difficult to control himself. I don't know if it's a natural progression of writing about someone with Tourette's or premeditated, just another stroke of Lethem's usual genius, but the entire novel is written with just the kind of snappy and bouncy rhythym that would please Lionel greatly. It teases you into re-reading sentences and taunts you into peeking at pages you shouldn't be peeking at yet. The action will make you bite your nails and the mystery will render you incapable of putting the book down, but the real beauty lies in Lethem's characterization. Each character is multi-faceted and so human you can see them. You will miss them you're finished. It's been awhile since I've added to my list of favorite literary figures, but I have a new hero now, and his name is Lionel Essrog.

Lionel Essrog, aka "Freakshow" to his fellow constituents at the L & L Car Service, a front for the L & L Detective Agency, is the Holden Caulfield of this century--if "Catcher in the Rye" had been told by Raymond Chandler instead of Salinger. This Tourette-riddled narrator guides the reader, albeit in a loopy and rapid-fire free association, through his life in Brooklyn. An orphan boy, though we're really not certain if even that is true, he is "adopted" by Frank Minna, an errand runner for unsavory crime figures, and taken under Minna's wing, despite his "freakshow" qualities. When Minna is murdered, Lionel takes it upon himself to find his friends killer. The journey will be one not soon forgotten. Lethem ably and aptly deploys his amazing writing skills once again in his fifth fiction outing. After three consecutive readings, I have chosen this novel as the most important and best novel I have ever had the (repeated) pleasure of laying my eyes and hands on. If you don't read this book, give up reading!

Lionel is one of four orphans from St. Vincent's who are recruited by a small-time New York hood for grunt work. Afflicted by Tourette's, Lionel drives most people crazy, but he tickles his mentor's sense of humor. All four orphans (the "motherless Brooklyn" of the title) look up to their leader, but Lionel's admiration includes a large component of unstated love. When his father figure is murdered in the street, Lionel is the only one of the four no-longer-boys with the intellect, loyalty, and determination to find out what really happened.Previously a science fiction author, in this book, Lethem takes off into reality like a rocket. The only alien landscape we view here is the inside of the Tourette-inflicted mind, and Lionel is as alien as it gets. But his tics and hollers are the fuller realizations of our own small compulsions and fascinations. They bring the reader right into his mind and body. Despite the pace of the action, and constant plot twists and developments (he tells this story walking, alright) his is an internal journey, and very human.This is an absolutely riveting good book.