“These French journals had people making arguments in ways that really mattered,” he said. “So much of our writing here is about, ‘You must choose a lane.’ Theirs has a comfort with controversy, a precision in argument, a sense of historic consciousness, that we need more of.”

Back in New York, Uminer decided to start a publication of his own, Notarikon Review, an eclectic journal that will “publish people who don’t agree on everything,” he said. Some of the writers he recruited are former social media adversaries. The debut print issue, scheduled to come out later this year, will include fiction by Julia Kornberg, an essay by Hayley Jean Clark about the artist Anna Weyant and a translation of a Yiddish short story by Abraham Reisen. Uminer conducted his first editorial meeting, over pizza and beer, on the floor of his Upper East Side studio.

On a recent afternoon, he went browsing at the Mizrahi Bookstore in Marine Park, Brooklyn. When he entered the aisles packed with ancient Jewish texts and leather-bound Torahs, the store’s owner, Israel Mizrahi, warmly greeted him as “Mendy.”

“I think Jews have an almost mystical relationship with books and knowledge,” Mizrahi said. “We’re always reliving our past, creating a thirst for knowledge, which is why a Jewish home needs a library. But Mendy’s insatiable curiosity stands out from all my customers. He understands that physical books are the only way we can truly retain knowledge. I’ve seen him spend three hours here in random conversation with someone about the kinds of horses used by 18th-century Polish Jews.”

He had heard about Uminer’s apartment troubles.

“Of all the vices, I find books to be the least dangerous,” Mizrahi said. “I think it’s possible his landlord might have their priorities misplaced, or might not understand him. If you’re not steeped in his culture, maybe his library does look chaotic. But I’d argue it only looks like a mess. I’ll bet he can tell you where every single book is in his apartment.”