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Lethem's clearly spent a great deal of time researching American communism, yet his political and sociological interests never overshadow the moving family drama that unfolds against the glittering and seedy backdrop of New York City. Lethem revels in the city's historic neighborhoods and its rich trove of voices, riffing with great facility on black, Irish and Yiddish inflections. At times, though, his encyclopedic grasp of his material comes off as pedantic. His prose can be a bit of a slog, with baroque metaphors and tortured syntax. "When Rose laughed up her sleeve, the sleeve was the Twentieth Century. You were living in her sleeve." Or: "The trouble with his rant was that time, like a grape blistered by the sun, seemed to Cicero to peel away its organizing skin during the interval of his delivery." But it's worth soldiering through the stylistic excesses. All in all, he delivers a virtuoso performance. ___ Online:
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