This is a book about people's lives, and it's one of those where saying too much risks spoiling it. There are a lot of lives, and deaths tangled together in this tale, and a lot of references to a history I know very little about. It made me wonder about a lot of things - a quality I always appreciate in a book.What I enjoyed most was the sprinkling of observation - dashes of broader philosophy, some of which I agreed with more than others, but which made me sit up, and think. I don't need to agree, I do like to be provoked.There are places where the narrative leans towards maigcal realism, and reality threatens to break down in ways that made me think about Philip K Dick. This is the first Helprin novel I've read, so I had no idea what to expect, and had been led to think he was more fantastical and less literary, but this is a book I wouldn't want to try and pigeon hole.I love the descriptions, the strange linguistic juxtapositions that give a sense of things even though, when you take them apart, they don't alwys make any sense at all. When a thing works even though I'm sure it shouldn't, that always gets my attention. The prose style is lovely, although it took me while to get used to the rhythm of the voice. I'm white, English, female, and in many ways this book is male and American, and Jewish, and the cadences were unfamiliar to my ear, at first. So getting to grips with the pcing of sentences took a little time, and made for an interesting experience all by itself.I shall be looking for more.
