Reviewing in Real Time: Not as interesting as you'd think

The Fortress of Solitude
Jonathan Lethem

7:00 AM

My review for The Fortress of Solitude is long overdue. I must find a way in.

[Bibliolatrist stares at a blank Word document before checking MySpace AGAIN.]

7:20 AM

[Bibliolatrist realizes something must be done but isn’t happy about it. Where is her in???

Usually after reading a book, I never begin a review until I find a way “in,” a focal point around which I can write. After reading Jonathan Lethem’s The Fortress of Solitude, however, I’m entirely at a loss. The book wasn’t BAD (and at the risk of stating the obvious I have to say it’s definitely easy to find an “in” for a bad book) but it wasn’t the best I’ve ever read, either. Still, I’ve finished it over a week ago and read at least two full books in the meantime, and yet, for the life of me, I just don’t know what to say about this thing.]

I guess I can summarize, although that seems a pretty boring way to start a review. I don’t even have anything even remotely humorous to say. Ugh.

7:35 AM

[Bibliolatrist decides to go work out. Note that it is a sad day indeed when Bibliolatrist chooses EXERCISE over writing. Sigh.]

9:09 AM

Ok I’m back, having enjoyed a good workout, a refreshing shower, and a nutritious egg-white omelet, in that order. I can do this.

The temptation to play Mystery Case Files overwhelms me.

Nevertheless, I must soldier on.

[Bibliolatrist dicks around on the computer before giving herself a good, firm talking to.]

9:15 AM

Ok, FINE. I suppose a quick summary have to will do: Dylan Ebdus: young, white, Brooklynite. Frequently yoked by neighborhood kids as he makes an easy target. Abandoned by his mother and ignored by his father, who spends his days painting. Dylan soon befriends Mingus Rude: young, black, son of a washed-up R&B singer, who spends his time doing drugs and ignoring his son. Both are motherless. Both fight to survive. It’s a coming-of-age tale.

The book is divided into three parts: the first (and best) section highlights the boys’ childhoods in Brooklyn; the second is quite short, and consists of some liner notes Dylan has written about Mingus’ father; the third chronicles the boys’ adulthood and the divergence of their paths.

So that’s the novel at a glance. And while I must admit The Fortress of Solitude is extremely well-written, it just didn’t have much of an emotional impact on me. Besides leaving me ultimately cold (I didn’t like the adult Dylan; I found him annoying and toolish), it also seemed a little stereotypical: all the black characters end up crack-addicted losers who may or may not be behind bars while the white characters (who, for the most part, all engage in similar drug activity) escape relatively unscathed. Dylan, it’s true, is a bit emotionally stunted, but so are most men after being abandoned by their mothers.

For another thing, FOS is LONG. Lethem spends a lot of time discussing the music of the 70s and comic book superheroes, two motifs that add to the context of the novel. I don’t mind these diversions...for the most part, although not all of it was necessary. In fact, I’d say FOS could be shortened about 150 pages and not suffer any great loss.

Another element that didn’t resonate well with me was the matter of THE RING. Oy vey, the ring, where do I even begin?

[In an effort to avoid discussing the ring, Bibliolatrist briefly considers cleaning.]

Nah, fuck it. I’d rather discuss the ring. But first, I have to check up on the latest news.

9:45 AM

Ok I’m back with the ring. So basically...basically, if you don’t mind my saying so, the ring motif is just a bit silly to me. The whole novel’s tone is serious, matter-of-fact. The novel doesn’t diverge into fantasy but instead represents Brooklyn in the 1970s in all its dirt and glory. Until, of course, you read those 5 or so sections which contain THE RING.

Long story short: Dylan comes across a homeless man who believes he has super powers. This man wears a cape and tries to fly, but it seems as though his only true power lies in pissing himself and being ignored by the community at large. Nevertheless, Dylan receives his ring and believes it gives him the power to fly. This would be great, if this were all, BUT: at certain points in the novel, we are led to believe that this ring does in fact confer super powers upon both Dylan and Mingus. So they are really flying? With this ring? For real? Aw, c'mon.

These sections simply do not blend well with the gritty backdrop of city life. Perhaps that is Lethem’s point, to juxtapose these superhero fantasies -- except that the flying sequences are not fantasies at all -- against the grim reality of race relations in Brooklyn, but these sections of “magical realism” weaken an already over-inflated story.

9:55 AM

In a nutshell: Shit. Blind Date’s on. Gotta go.

Bibliolatry Scale: 3 out of 6 stars