I used to have a customer with Tourette's. Back when I was a teenage supermarket teller, a million and a half years ago, she used to come through my line routinely. At the time, I didn't reflect much on her condition other than that I assumed it must be tough for her occasionally, but how tough it really was I considered only in the vaguest sense, to the extent that I considered it at all. (Sorry, lady, but I was 17 and had a whole slew of 17 year-old thoughts to preoccupy myself with.) She seemed to handle it in stride, though, or least this was my impression of our brief bi-weekly interactions--I certainly don't remember there being any social awkwardness. It probably helped, too, that she never made any apologies for her outbursts. 
 So it was interesting for me, with Motherless Brooklyn, to experience life through the first-person perspective of Lionel Essrog, a man with, not only Tourette's, but also its oft-accompanying sidekick, obsessive-compulsive disorder. With the little foreknowledge I have of these syndromes, I'm not able to say whether the novel faithfully represents them, but I'd like to think it does. Aside from the neuropsychiatric issues, Essrog also has a fascinating character history. Inexplicably orphaned at a young age, he grows up in a tough Brooklyn neighborhood and is recruited by a low-level Italian mobster whose eventual murder serves as the basis for the book's detective-story plot. Essrog's physical and verbal tics--which are conspicuously present throughout the investigation--do not impede the reader's enjoyment of the novel, as his internal dialogue remains unhindered by the disorder (other than expressing an oncoming urge to shout or tap or straighten or poke), all of which I believe is consistent with the way Tourette's presents in its sufferers. What's more, Essrog's tics almost endear the reader to him. I felt a kinship with the misunderstood, relatively lonely man who is driven by a misguided sense of loyalty in the search for his mentor's killer. 
 Being at its core a mystery/crime thriller, Motherless Brooklyn at times falls prey to some of the cliches of the genre, but Lethem succeeds in transcending this label by writing with, I don't know, heart or something. Essorg's world, touched as it is by inner-city dealings and by mob activity, is still somewhat insular and claustrophobic. It's his relationship to the elements of this tiny world, however, that drive his motivations and make this book among the more interesting crime novels I've read in a while.