Review of 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' on 'Goodreads'
4 stars
An extraordinary book, literally. And worth while reading.
Paperback, 326 pages
English language
Published Aug. 8, 2006 by Penguin Books.
A new novel by the author of Everything Is Illuminated introduces Oskar Schell, the nine-year-old son of a man killed in the World Trade Center bombing who searches the city for a lock that fits a black key his father left behind. Jonathan Safran Foer emerged as one of the most original writers of his generation with his best-selling debut novel, Everything Is Illuminated. Now, with humor, tenderness, and awe, he confronts the traumas of our recent history. What he discovers is solace in that most human quality, imagination. Meet Oskar Schell, an inventor, Francophile, tambourine player, Shakespearean actor, jeweler, pacifist, correspondent with Stephen Hawking and Ringo Starr. He is nine years old. And he is on an urgent, secret search through the five boroughs of New York. His mission is to find the lock that fits a mysterious key belonging to his father, who died in the World Trade …
A new novel by the author of Everything Is Illuminated introduces Oskar Schell, the nine-year-old son of a man killed in the World Trade Center bombing who searches the city for a lock that fits a black key his father left behind. Jonathan Safran Foer emerged as one of the most original writers of his generation with his best-selling debut novel, Everything Is Illuminated. Now, with humor, tenderness, and awe, he confronts the traumas of our recent history. What he discovers is solace in that most human quality, imagination. Meet Oskar Schell, an inventor, Francophile, tambourine player, Shakespearean actor, jeweler, pacifist, correspondent with Stephen Hawking and Ringo Starr. He is nine years old. And he is on an urgent, secret search through the five boroughs of New York. His mission is to find the lock that fits a mysterious key belonging to his father, who died in the World Trade Center on 9/11. An inspired innocent, Oskar is alternately endearing, exasperating, and hilarious as he careens from Central Park to Coney Island to Harlem on his search. Along the way he is always dreaming up inventions to keep those he loves safe from harm. What about a birdseed shirt to let you fly away? What if you could actually hear everyone's heartbeat? His goal is hopeful, but the past speaks a loud warning in stories of those who've lost loved ones before. As Oskar roams New York, he encounters a motley assortment of humanity who are all survivors in their own way. He befriends a 103-year-old war reporter, a tour guide who never leaves the Empire State Building, and lovers enraptured or scorned. Ultimately, Oskar ends his journey where it began, at his father's grave. But now he is accompanied by the silent stranger who has been renting the spare room of his grandmother's apartment. They are there to dig up his father's empty coffin
An extraordinary book, literally. And worth while reading.
This book is told primarily from the point of view of 8-year old Oskar Schell, whose father was killed in the world trade center towers on 9/11 and who, a year or so later, is still dealing with the loss and grief. He appears to be a very intelligent kid but probably somewhere on the autism spectrum (based both on his behaviour in the book, and the fact his therapist Dr. Fein suggests to his mother that he might be put in some kind of special care facility). Oskar finds a key in his father's closet and makes it his mission to find the lock it fits; the only clue he has is the name "Black" written on the envelope it was in, so he begins an epic journey to speak to every person named Black in New York city.
Interspersed with Oskar's key mission are back stories from his …
This book is told primarily from the point of view of 8-year old Oskar Schell, whose father was killed in the world trade center towers on 9/11 and who, a year or so later, is still dealing with the loss and grief. He appears to be a very intelligent kid but probably somewhere on the autism spectrum (based both on his behaviour in the book, and the fact his therapist Dr. Fein suggests to his mother that he might be put in some kind of special care facility). Oskar finds a key in his father's closet and makes it his mission to find the lock it fits; the only clue he has is the name "Black" written on the envelope it was in, so he begins an epic journey to speak to every person named Black in New York city.
Interspersed with Oskar's key mission are back stories from his grandparents: his grandmother, who lives across the street now and helps care for Oskar, and his grandfather, who vanished before Oskar's father was born but whose story is told through a series of unsent letters he wrote to his son. Oskar's grandparents survived the fire bombing of Dresden and their stories unwind in parallel to Oskar's search for the lock that his key will open - which he's become convinced will somehow bring him closer to his father.
There were some moments of charm in the book and I was curious to find out what the key would eventually unlock, but there were also a lot of very annoying characters and unbelievable circumstances, not to mention a generous helping of trite melancholy. It seemed to me as if the author was trying to imitate something like "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time", where Precocious Autistic Spectrum Child Observes World, Solves Mysteries, only not as well. The plot and prose often felt rather forced, and Oskar's awkwardness - while probably supposed to illustrate his childish innocence and/or autism - was often simply silly or offputting. The complete inability of anyone in his family to communicate anything to each other was stretched past the point of believably. And the idea that his mother would seriously allow an 8 year old child to wander around New York city talking to strangers for months or sneaking out past midnight for no reason known to her is just preposterous.
Overall the book just asked me to stretch my credulity way further than I can do and still enjoy the story.
Man, did this book make me wear heavy boots. I'm probably going to be wearing them for a few days after finishing this.
Oskar lost his father in the 9/11 attacks. Much like [b:The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time|1618|The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time|Mark Haddon|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327882682s/1618.jpg|4259809], he is a young boy trying to solve a mystery that really holds deeper meaning to understanding his entire life. But, this isn’t just Oskar’s journey through grief; this is also about Oskar’s grandmother, grandfather, and his mother, too.
Is it uniquely written and a little gimmicky? Yes, but it worked for the narrative. Unique like Oskar, like his grandfather, like his grandmother, the different parts of the book fit together to tell the story of a family who have experienced and endured grief, joy, and all of the other parts of life that make it special.
I hesitate …
Man, did this book make me wear heavy boots. I'm probably going to be wearing them for a few days after finishing this.
Oskar lost his father in the 9/11 attacks. Much like [b:The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time|1618|The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time|Mark Haddon|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1327882682s/1618.jpg|4259809], he is a young boy trying to solve a mystery that really holds deeper meaning to understanding his entire life. But, this isn’t just Oskar’s journey through grief; this is also about Oskar’s grandmother, grandfather, and his mother, too.
Is it uniquely written and a little gimmicky? Yes, but it worked for the narrative. Unique like Oskar, like his grandfather, like his grandmother, the different parts of the book fit together to tell the story of a family who have experienced and endured grief, joy, and all of the other parts of life that make it special.
I hesitate to say more, and urge you to experience this story for yourself.
Un enfant de 9 ans, à l'intelligence supérieure à la moyenne et à l'imagination débordante, essaye de faire le deuil de son père, mort dans les attentats du 11 Septembre. C'est un drôle de roman, un peu compliqué à suivre : ça part dans tous les sens, c'est bourré d'histoires parallèles, même on parvient à reconstituer les pièces du puzzle à la fin. C'est joli, plein de bons sentiments, parfois émouvant. Mais il m'a manqué quelque chose pour en faire un très bon roman. Peut-être parce que certains passages sont assez pénibles à lire.
I read this because I assigned Nicole Krauss' History of Love as a summer reading assignment, and this book was mentioned in pretty much every review of that book. The two books do share some similarities (both are about a child investigating a mystery of their dead father and both mix traditional narrative storytelling with piecemeal excerpts of letters/journals/etc.) but I think Foer's effort was not nearly as good as his wife's. The parts of the books told from Oskar's point of view are remarkable. Foer perfectly captures the voice of an intelligent, curious, and shellshocked little boy. The other parts of the book, consisting of letters written by Oskar's grandparents and the occasional scrapbook photograph aren't nearly as engaging. The way Foer uses simple, declarative sentences to try to capture the voice of Oskar's immigrant grandmother quickly grows tiresome. And I'm honestly not sure what to think about the …
I read this because I assigned Nicole Krauss' History of Love as a summer reading assignment, and this book was mentioned in pretty much every review of that book. The two books do share some similarities (both are about a child investigating a mystery of their dead father and both mix traditional narrative storytelling with piecemeal excerpts of letters/journals/etc.) but I think Foer's effort was not nearly as good as his wife's. The parts of the books told from Oskar's point of view are remarkable. Foer perfectly captures the voice of an intelligent, curious, and shellshocked little boy. The other parts of the book, consisting of letters written by Oskar's grandparents and the occasional scrapbook photograph aren't nearly as engaging. The way Foer uses simple, declarative sentences to try to capture the voice of Oskar's immigrant grandmother quickly grows tiresome. And I'm honestly not sure what to think about the use of 9/11 in the book. At times, it seems entirely essential to both the plot and to establishing aspects of Oskar's character. At other times, especially when Foer is inserting photographs of the falling man, the use of 9/11 seems designed to shoehorn in an extra layer of sadness to the story.
meh. Over-rated. Narrator's voice neither credible nor enjoyable. I did enjoy the pictures in the book.
I read this book because the movie is coming soon and it was a good excuse to read it. I’ve been interested in reading a Jonathan Safran Foer for a while (yet another step in becoming a book snob) and now I had no excuse. While the movie looks really good; I’ve struggled how it would work now that I’ve read the book. There is a lot of key elements of this book that would not translate well in a movie, for example Oskar’s inner thoughts, the letters he writes to random people that interest him and then there is the renter (Oskar’s grandfather) who doesn’t speak at all and writes everything on paper for others to read.
This book was such a pleasure to read, while it’s not a particular exciting plot; the characters and the writing were just so great that it was nothing but a joy to …
I read this book because the movie is coming soon and it was a good excuse to read it. I’ve been interested in reading a Jonathan Safran Foer for a while (yet another step in becoming a book snob) and now I had no excuse. While the movie looks really good; I’ve struggled how it would work now that I’ve read the book. There is a lot of key elements of this book that would not translate well in a movie, for example Oskar’s inner thoughts, the letters he writes to random people that interest him and then there is the renter (Oskar’s grandfather) who doesn’t speak at all and writes everything on paper for others to read.
This book was such a pleasure to read, while it’s not a particular exciting plot; the characters and the writing were just so great that it was nothing but a joy to read. I’ve heard people call Jonathan Safran Foer’s writing manipulative and even overly sweet and I can see what they are saying, in this book everyone seemed to be nice and have very little flaws but for me I think this is just simply because this particular story was told by a 9 year old boy. There are a lot of elements of trauma and mourning as the family struggle to come to terms with the events of 9/11 and losing someone so close to them. Even Oskar himself struggles between self-destruction and self-preservation throughout this book but overall the book comes across as very lights and sweet.
I really did enjoy this book, while I might have some issues with the book and the upcoming moving adaptation I highly recommend this book. Not often do I get such pleasure in the writing style of a book but Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close was one of those books I liked simply because it was beautifully written.
Oskar Schell is a delightful character! And I loved the way Foer weaved stories of past generations into the consciousness of this story, too. There's so much depth to this novel that it's hard to know where to begin, how to discuss it. I would recommend Jonathan Safran Foer's novel to anyone.
This book is beautiful, engaging, complex, thoughtful, and moving. [a:Foer|2617|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1274633302p2/2617.jpg] doesn't write books, he crafts them, carefully, attentively, and skillfully. His talent for weaving disparate storylines together into a complex, layered narrative that is somehow still intimately accessible and illuminating was demonstrated forcefully in [b:Everything Is Illuminated|256566|Everything Is Illuminated|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1298482115s/256566.jpg|886727], and is on full display in his second novel. Except that it's not so much on display as it is underneath, providing a foundation and background that rarely calls attention to itself but enriches the story in a way that has made Foer the well-deserved success that he is.
His first book played lightly with the medium of the novel, fiddling with things like type and interwoven chapters, but this book takes his art to a whole new level. A quick perusal will reveal full-color prints, seemingly random sequences of photos, blank pages, series of pages with …
This book is beautiful, engaging, complex, thoughtful, and moving. [a:Foer|2617|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1274633302p2/2617.jpg] doesn't write books, he crafts them, carefully, attentively, and skillfully. His talent for weaving disparate storylines together into a complex, layered narrative that is somehow still intimately accessible and illuminating was demonstrated forcefully in [b:Everything Is Illuminated|256566|Everything Is Illuminated|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1298482115s/256566.jpg|886727], and is on full display in his second novel. Except that it's not so much on display as it is underneath, providing a foundation and background that rarely calls attention to itself but enriches the story in a way that has made Foer the well-deserved success that he is.
His first book played lightly with the medium of the novel, fiddling with things like type and interwoven chapters, but this book takes his art to a whole new level. A quick perusal will reveal full-color prints, seemingly random sequences of photos, blank pages, series of pages with a handful of words apiece, pages with pre-circled words, and even pages so dense with type as to be literally unreadable. I can imagine Foer telling his publisher what he wanted to do with this book, getting some very skeptical looks, but pointing at his first novel and getting his way. And I am very glad that he did. Foer has taken his success and used it to flex his creative vision in ways that wouldn't have otherwise been possible, and the result is a sometimes very strange-looking book. At a cursory flip, all of this may appear to be gimmicky, and in the hands of another author, very well could be. But the strength in Foer's art is that as unusual as it is, it never calls attention to itself. Each oddity - the blank pages, the colored prints - is wholly unjarring, and in fact expresses the story in a way that a pure sequences of words never could. It is one thing to play with the form of the novel and push boundaries for the sake of doing something different, and another thing to truly use those deviations to better tell your story and engage your reader. Foer's skill in doing the latter is what sets Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close from [b:Cloud Atlas|49628|Cloud Atlas|David Mitchell|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170360941s/49628.jpg|1871423], the last book I read, which also plays with its form - while Mitchell's form was interesting, it often called attention to itself, and seldom did much to further the stories that it told. Foer's form, on the other hand, is often almost invisible, in that you forget that blank pages in books are not how books are supposed to be written, because they convey the story so perfectly. All of Foer's devices feel very necessary, and are used to their full potential, and the story is much richer and better for it.
So what story does all of this form work so well to convey? An intimate, complex portrait of nine-year-old Oskar Schell, who lost his father in 9/11, and the story of his deeply personal journey through the labyrinth of emotions and questions that his father's sudden and jarring departure left behind, on top of the complexities of being a nine-year-old with a mind that never stops inventing. We read, feel, and experience the stories of him and of course the deeply connected lives of his mother, his grandparents, and the other people whose lives he affects and is affected by. Oskar, although he is young, is a very intelligent, thoughtful, and introspective child, and he sets out on a quixotic journey that no one, including himself, really understands, but that he simply must embark upon. As his story - and the stories of those around him unfold - beautifully, slowly, carefully - Foer explores what it means to be human, to love, to lose, to be in relationship with other people.
There is far more than 355 pages worth of book packed in between these covers. It is somehow wholly accessible, readable, and enjoyable, while being thick with connections, contemplation, questions, and quiet introspection. The complexity undergirds the whole narrative, and is always present, but somehow never loudly calls attention to itself. And I swear I didn't plan this, but I just looked over at the cover again...the complexity is, you might say, extremely loud and incredibly close.
This book is a brilliant use of the form of the novel, in ways that few authors attempt and fewer succeed in. But the beauty of it is that these novelties are not why you should read the book - you should read this book because it is a deeply relevant, thoughtful, thought-provoking and engaging story, told exceedingly well. The devices throughout are used carefully and effectively, only when they are needed, and only when they tell the story in a way that words alone cannot. Oskar Schell's story is certainly one that deserves to be so well-told, and one that deserves to be read, thought about, experienced, and treasured.
This book is beautiful, engaging, complex, thoughtful, and moving. [a:Foer|2617|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1274633302p2/2617.jpg] doesn't write books, he crafts them, carefully, attentively, and skillfully. His talent for weaving disparate storylines together into a complex, layered narrative that is somehow still intimately accessible and illuminating was demonstrated forcefully in [b:Everything Is Illuminated|256566|Everything Is Illuminated|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1298482115s/256566.jpg|886727], and is on full display in his second novel. Except that it's not so much on display as it is underneath, providing a foundation and background that rarely calls attention to itself but enriches the story in a way that has made Foer the well-deserved success that he is.
His first book played lightly with the medium of the novel, fiddling with things like type and interwoven chapters, but this book takes his art to a whole new level. A quick perusal will reveal full-color prints, seemingly random sequences of photos, blank pages, series of pages with …
This book is beautiful, engaging, complex, thoughtful, and moving. [a:Foer|2617|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1274633302p2/2617.jpg] doesn't write books, he crafts them, carefully, attentively, and skillfully. His talent for weaving disparate storylines together into a complex, layered narrative that is somehow still intimately accessible and illuminating was demonstrated forcefully in [b:Everything Is Illuminated|256566|Everything Is Illuminated|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1298482115s/256566.jpg|886727], and is on full display in his second novel. Except that it's not so much on display as it is underneath, providing a foundation and background that rarely calls attention to itself but enriches the story in a way that has made Foer the well-deserved success that he is.
His first book played lightly with the medium of the novel, fiddling with things like type and interwoven chapters, but this book takes his art to a whole new level. A quick perusal will reveal full-color prints, seemingly random sequences of photos, blank pages, series of pages with a handful of words apiece, pages with pre-circled words, and even pages so dense with type as to be literally unreadable. I can imagine Foer telling his publisher what he wanted to do with this book, getting some very skeptical looks, but pointing at his first novel and getting his way. And I am very glad that he did. Foer has taken his success and used it to flex his creative vision in ways that wouldn't have otherwise been possible, and the result is a sometimes very strange-looking book. At a cursory flip, all of this may appear to be gimmicky, and in the hands of another author, very well could be. But the strength in Foer's art is that as unusual as it is, it never calls attention to itself. Each oddity - the blank pages, the colored prints - is wholly unjarring, and in fact expresses the story in a way that a pure sequences of words never could. It is one thing to play with the form of the novel and push boundaries for the sake of doing something different, and another thing to truly use those deviations to better tell your story and engage your reader. Foer's skill in doing the latter is what sets Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close from [b:Cloud Atlas|49628|Cloud Atlas|David Mitchell|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170360941s/49628.jpg|1871423], the last book I read, which also plays with its form - while Mitchell's form was interesting, it often called attention to itself, and seldom did much to further the stories that it told. Foer's form, on the other hand, is often almost invisible, in that you forget that blank pages in books are not how books are supposed to be written, because they convey the story so perfectly. All of Foer's devices feel very necessary, and are used to their full potential, and the story is much richer and better for it.
So what story does all of this form work so well to convey? An intimate, complex portrait of nine-year-old Oskar Schell, who lost his father in 9/11, and the story of his deeply personal journey through the labyrinth of emotions and questions that his father's sudden and jarring departure left behind, on top of the complexities of being a nine-year-old with a mind that never stops inventing. We read, feel, and experience the stories of him and of course the deeply connected lives of his mother, his grandparents, and the other people whose lives he affects and is affected by. Oskar, although he is young, is a very intelligent, thoughtful, and introspective child, and he sets out on a quixotic journey that no one, including himself, really understands, but that he simply must embark upon. As his story - and the stories of those around him unfold - beautifully, slowly, carefully - Foer explores what it means to be human, to love, to lose, to be in relationship with other people.
There is far more than 355 pages worth of book packed in between these covers. It is somehow wholly accessible, readable, and enjoyable, while being thick with connections, contemplation, questions, and quiet introspection. The complexity undergirds the whole narrative, and is always present, but somehow never loudly calls attention to itself. And I swear I didn't plan this, but I just looked over at the cover again...the complexity is, you might say, extremely loud and incredibly close.
This book is a brilliant use of the form of the novel, in ways that few authors attempt and fewer succeed in. But the beauty of it is that these novelties are not why you should read the book - you should read this book because it is a deeply relevant, thoughtful, thought-provoking and engaging story, told exceedingly well. The devices throughout are used carefully and effectively, only when they are needed, and only when they tell the story in a way that words alone cannot. Oskar Schell's story is certainly one that deserves to be so well-told, and one that deserves to be read, thought about, experienced, and treasured.
This book is beautiful, engaging, complex, thoughtful, and moving. [a:Foer|2617|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1274633302p2/2617.jpg] doesn't write books, he crafts them, carefully, attentively, and skillfully. His talent for weaving disparate storylines together into a complex, layered narrative that is somehow still intimately accessible and illuminating was demonstrated forcefully in [b:Everything Is Illuminated|256566|Everything Is Illuminated|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1298482115s/256566.jpg|886727], and is on full display in his second novel. Except that it's not so much on display as it is underneath, providing a foundation and background that rarely calls attention to itself but enriches the story in a way that has made Foer the well-deserved success that he is.
His first book played lightly with the medium of the novel, fiddling with things like type and interwoven chapters, but this book takes his art to a whole new level. A quick perusal will reveal full-color prints, seemingly random sequences of photos, blank pages, series of pages with …
This book is beautiful, engaging, complex, thoughtful, and moving. [a:Foer|2617|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1274633302p2/2617.jpg] doesn't write books, he crafts them, carefully, attentively, and skillfully. His talent for weaving disparate storylines together into a complex, layered narrative that is somehow still intimately accessible and illuminating was demonstrated forcefully in [b:Everything Is Illuminated|256566|Everything Is Illuminated|Jonathan Safran Foer|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1298482115s/256566.jpg|886727], and is on full display in his second novel. Except that it's not so much on display as it is underneath, providing a foundation and background that rarely calls attention to itself but enriches the story in a way that has made Foer the well-deserved success that he is.
His first book played lightly with the medium of the novel, fiddling with things like type and interwoven chapters, but this book takes his art to a whole new level. A quick perusal will reveal full-color prints, seemingly random sequences of photos, blank pages, series of pages with a handful of words apiece, pages with pre-circled words, and even pages so dense with type as to be literally unreadable. I can imagine Foer telling his publisher what he wanted to do with this book, getting some very skeptical looks, but pointing at his first novel and getting his way. And I am very glad that he did. Foer has taken his success and used it to flex his creative vision in ways that wouldn't have otherwise been possible, and the result is a sometimes very strange-looking book. At a cursory flip, all of this may appear to be gimmicky, and in the hands of another author, very well could be. But the strength in Foer's art is that as unusual as it is, it never calls attention to itself. Each oddity - the blank pages, the colored prints - is wholly unjarring, and in fact expresses the story in a way that a pure sequences of words never could. It is one thing to play with the form of the novel and push boundaries for the sake of doing something different, and another thing to truly use those deviations to better tell your story and engage your reader. Foer's skill in doing the latter is what sets Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close from [b:Cloud Atlas|49628|Cloud Atlas|David Mitchell|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1170360941s/49628.jpg|1871423], the last book I read, which also plays with its form - while Mitchell's form was interesting, it often called attention to itself, and seldom did much to further the stories that it told. Foer's form, on the other hand, is often almost invisible, in that you forget that blank pages in books are not how books are supposed to be written, because they convey the story so perfectly. All of Foer's devices feel very necessary, and are used to their full potential, and the story is much richer and better for it.
So what story does all of this form work so well to convey? An intimate, complex portrait of nine-year-old Oskar Schell, who lost his father in 9/11, and the story of his deeply personal journey through the labyrinth of emotions and questions that his father's sudden and jarring departure left behind, on top of the complexities of being a nine-year-old with a mind that never stops inventing. We read, feel, and experience the stories of him and of course the deeply connected lives of his mother, his grandparents, and the other people whose lives he affects and is affected by. Oskar, although he is young, is a very intelligent, thoughtful, and introspective child, and he sets out on a quixotic journey that no one, including himself, really understands, but that he simply must embark upon. As his story - and the stories of those around him unfold - beautifully, slowly, carefully - Foer explores what it means to be human, to love, to lose, to be in relationship with other people.
There is far more than 355 pages worth of book packed in between these covers. It is somehow wholly accessible, readable, and enjoyable, while being thick with connections, contemplation, questions, and quiet introspection. The complexity undergirds the whole narrative, and is always present, but somehow never loudly calls attention to itself. And I swear I didn't plan this, but I just looked over at the cover again...the complexity is, you might say, extremely loud and incredibly close.
This book is a brilliant use of the form of the novel, in ways that few authors attempt and fewer succeed in. But the beauty of it is that these novelties are not why you should read the book - you should read this book because it is a deeply relevant, thoughtful, thought-provoking and engaging story, told exceedingly well. The devices throughout are used carefully and effectively, only when they are needed, and only when they tell the story in a way that words alone cannot. Oskar Schell's story is certainly one that deserves to be so well-told, and one that deserves to be read, thought about, experienced, and treasured.
Although there were sections that left me confused, this book made me both laugh and cry. I think if the whole story was narrated by Oskar I'd have given it 5 stars but unfortunately the grandparents' story kept making me put the book down. The story is laced with a feeling of loneliness throughout.
A good book for discussion. (Caroline had suggested it, for no other reason than that she wanted someone to talk about it with.) It was interesting enough that everyone enjoyed it, more-or-less (except for Alan, who didn't come), even though they had problems with parts of it. The visual gimmicks were intriguing, but also a bit over the top (and not present in the taped version). Oskar was either unbelievably precocious, or the spitting image of grandkids or former students. The grandparents, however, were too caricatured to have much depth. And Oskar's mother, as seen through Oskar's eyes, was a blank.
I liked this book so much more than I thought I would. At moments I wanted to sing What a Wonderful World. Yes at moments it's sad and real. However it made me like people again for a day. It also reminded me that since I have kids it's possible someday I might be a grandparent. Previously, I have ignored that fact.
September 11th forms the backdrop for this honest examination of love and loss. In the case of many contemporary novels, that last sentence would have ended "love, loss and redemption," but here there is no single, easy moment of salvation, acceptance or understanding. While the novel contains all of those things, each of the characters has to work continually in order to achieve them.
If that sounds depressing, I promise you it isn't. These characters never fully recover from their loss; they deal with it from day to day. They think about it, write about it, travel with it, ignore it, run away from it and return to it. Foer has managed to turn this struggle into something extraordinarily beautiful, while recognizing that it is also extraordinarily difficult.