The Jew of New York

This was a very strange novel, which didn't focus on any one character too long as if it had an attention deficit disorder and yet all the while these characters either pass one another or briefly interact at the very least. It reminds me of pulp fiction, though I'm sure there are a lot of historical elements in the story that took place in the early/mid 1800s. It was hard for me to remember individuals, though it helped that some didn't change or that the first few pages of the book had them pictured and named for you to refer back to them with some degree of familiarity. But even if a character isn't listed there, there are some in the story that still stick in mind, like Mayor Noah or Miss Patella. But you don't really meet these folks. Their mere existences lend some sort of important plot devices to the narrative.

And I'm not sure whether it's really linear or not. There's a lot going on at once, a lot of humorous undertones that I know are /supposed/ to be funny but never make me outwardly smirk, and there are a lot of characters that take the spotlight from one another to a point where you know the narrative doesn't follow one man, but many. It's a collective experience, as I'd like to call it. And some of the stories they have to tell are quite bazar. The art style is certainly something new to me. It's gritty, gestural, and very sketchy. It almost looks more like these are preliminary layouts made just before the real illustrations are done. Even though I was a little disappointed in this, always appreciating polished artwork over something less perfect, I feel like the style really fits the novel. This isn't a pretty and polished story. This is a series of strange or fantastical events, still within the scope of what can or might happen rather than being of pure fantasy. These hazy illustrations are befitting of the nostalgic quality of this story of several stories.