I just finished Motherless Brooklyn, by Jonathan Lethem, on the way to work this morning. I've wanted read Fortress of Solitude for quite some time but stumbled across this volume in the used section of Elliott Bay a few weeks ago. If I were ranking books instead of giving them faux-reviews, I'd probably give it a five out of ten. I was not captivated like I was by my previous New York books, which were written by Paul Auster. I could identify with pop culture references but they turned me off, possibly because I read this article, which attacks the "Brooklyn Books of Wonder," last year, even though Bukiet says the Lethem is one of the better authors in the borough.
I failed to get to my 25 book goal by the end of June but I'm blaming the two weddings I attended and the week long vacation in Denver, where we were booked solid. I'm working my way through Jane Jacobs and will hopefully make progress toward my goal this month.
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