St. Vincent's Home for Boys, Brooklyn, early 1970s. For
Lionel Essrog, a.k.a. The Human Freakshow, a victim of
Tourette's syndrome (an uncontrollable urge to shout out
nonsense, touch every surface in reach, rearrange objects),
Frank Minna is a savior. A local tough guy and fixer, Minna
shows up to take Lionel and three of his fellow orphans on
mysterious errands: they empty a store of stereos as the
owner watches; destroy a small amusement park; visit old
Italian men. The four grow up to be the Minna Men, a
fly-by-night detective agency-cum-limo service, and their
days and nights revolve around Frank, the prince of
Brooklyn, who glides through life on street smarts,
attitude, and secret knowledge. Then one dreadful night,
Frank is knifed and thrown into a Dumpster, and Lionel must
become a real detective.
As Lionel struggles to find Frank's killer--without letting
his Tourette's get in the way--he's forced to delve into the
complex, shadowy web of relationships, threats, and favors
that make up the Brooklyn world he thought he knew so well.
No one--not Frank, not Frank's bitter wife, Julia, not the
other Minna Men--is who they seem. Not even The Human Freakshow.
All of the Lethem touches that have thrilled critics are
here--crackling dialogue, sly humor, dizzying plot
twists--but they're secondary to wonderfully full, tragic,
funny characterizations, and a dazzling evocation of place.
Indeed, Brooklyn--with its charming folkways and language,
its unique style of bad-guy swagger and
sentimentality--becomes itself a major character.
Motherless Brooklyn is a bravura performance: funny, tense,
touching, extravagant. This novel signals the coming of age
of a major American writer.