Something I read in The American Scholar at the bookstore. I regretted not buying it until I found it online…
…certain writers produce Brooklyn Books of Wonder. Take mawkish self-indulgence, add a heavy dollop of creamy nostalgia, season with magic realism, stir in a complacency of faith, and you’ve got wondrousness.
Makes me feel good to be a Jonathan Lethem fan–in sort of the way you do when you hide out during a scuffle long enough to read the writing on the wall, and then throw the last two punches for the winning side once all the hard work’s done. Well, not really. I mean, I’ve read both of Lethem’s short story collections, and I have both Gun, With Occassional Music and Motherless Brooklyn on tap.
But, I also have You Shall Know Our Velocity and McSweeney’s 14, too.