lethem’s most ambitious outing in a while… and hats off because as talented and well-positioned as he is, he could’ve phoned it in or gone for — as he has in the past — cheaper success. but for all CHRONIC CITY’s ambition and for all its frantic counterculture name-dropping and for all its borrowed and original wackiness (a giant tiger, love letters from a marooned astronaut fiance, psychedelic ceramics) lethem’s latest is at heart a comedy of manners, gently lampooning a fundamentally effet…more

for all CHRONIC CITY’s ambition and for all its frantic counterculture name-dropping and for all its borrowed and original wackiness (a giant tiger, love letters from a marooned astronaut fiancée, psychedelic ceramics) lethem’s latest is at heart a comedy of manners, gently lampooning a fundamentally effete manhattan. it’s also more page six than swiftian, the sting and focus of its satire sadly dulled and clouded as if in a solipsistic, self-entertaining mary jane fog.

which is both strange and unfortunate because the author here certainly seems to be going for more, working hard and well for significance and depth. despite its flaws it also seems in many ways a return to form, so one is left with a puzzling ambivalence. what happens? it’s hard to say… but i kept recalling a review for some wes anderson film — one that noted anderson, for all his lavish and cleverly particular art direction couldn’t help but make an airless movie. something similar happens here. all emotion, messiness, pureness and quickness of heart has been photoshopped out in order to make some cooler, shinier but more dead artifact.