Laith
This is a detective novel, but the detective, Lionel, has Tourette's Syndrome. It's as insane to read as it is to describe, and I mean that in the best possible way. He's ticcing in the middle of interrogations, in the middle of moments where he needs to be discrete, even in his own internal monologue, it's pure chaos.
When I frame it like that, it sounds like some sort of sophomoric writing challenge: first to write a book with a character with Tourette's and have it make any sense linguistically, and second to have that character then skulk though the shadows like he's Philip Marlowe. But it's not like that at all, it's a solid read, astoundingly so; I was skeptical at first, but as I read on it became less and less about the Tourette's and entirely about Lionel's compulsion to solve the mystery of his Boss's murder. Rather than detracting from the experience, Lionel's tics, compulsions, and general paranoia come to shape the increasingly manic and spiraling narrative.
In fact, Lionel steals the whole show; I'd say the book is less a tale of mystery and intrigue (which it certainly is chock-full of) and more an incredibly sympathetic and thoughtful character study of an orphan finding his family. As much as I love a good ol' fashion mystery-thriller, there's so much more to Motherless Brooklyn than its mystery subplot, it's truly a work of literary and linguistic genius, human in all the right places and utterly captivating.
I think I'll play this review close to the chest, if you're not interested in this book by now, feel free to skip it, but I can safely say that I've never read anything like this before and I doubt I ever will again. I'll have to find a copy for my shelf.
This is a detective novel, but the detective, Lionel, has Tourette's Syndrome. It's as insane to read as it is to describe, and I mean that in the best possible way. He's ticcing in the middle of interrogations, in the middle of moments where he needs to be discrete, even in his own internal monologue, it's pure chaos.
When I frame it like that, it sounds like some sort of sophomoric writing challenge: first to write a book with a character with Tourette's and have it make any sense linguistically, and second to have that character then skulk though the shadows like he's Philip Marlowe. But it's not like that at all, it's a solid read, astoundingly so; I was skeptical at first, but as I read on it became less and less about the Tourette's and entirely about Lionel's compulsion to solve the mystery of his Boss's murder. Rather than detracting from the experience, Lionel's tics, compulsions, and general paranoia come to shape the increasingly manic and spiraling narrative.
In fact, Lionel steals the whole show; I'd say the book is less a tale of mystery and intrigue (which it certainly is chock-full of) and more an incredibly sympathetic and thoughtful character study of an orphan finding his family. As much as I love a good ol' fashion mystery-thriller, there's so much more to Motherless Brooklyn than its mystery subplot, it's truly a work of literary and linguistic genius, human in all the right places and utterly captivating.
I think I'll play this review close to the chest, if you're not interested in this book by now, feel free to skip it, but I can safely say that I've never read anything like this before and I doubt I ever will again. I'll have to find a copy for my shelf.