Thanks to GR I now want to read essentially every book my friends rate/review highly. On top of that, I have a problem of loving to buy books the way the some women love to buy shoes or handbags. (I hate stereotypes, but I think that one holds up pretty well.) So after I finished my last book I was like "Now what?" I decided to dive into a sci-fi book gifted from a GR friend (who is now my "real life" friend), but had a hard time getting into it. So I cheated on her, err it. I went back to my stack of unread books and decided to pick up Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. I was hesitant about Foer b/c I know his other book (or one of his other books, I haven't done any research to see how many he's written) was turned into what to me looked like a ridiculous movie with the dude from the hobbit movies with the big weird eyes who annoys me. Ultimately I decided it's not really fair to hold that against him. Maybe the book is good? Anyhow, I'm rambling now so let's get to it.

I really, really liked this book. I found myself thinking about it when I wasn't reading it and being excited to get back to it. I finished in three days, which for me says a lot.

OK, so, IF I had rated this book as soon as I finished it I probably would've given it at least four stars, maybe even five. But since I didn't want to get busted for cheating on my sci-fi book, I put off reviewing it for awhile. In that time I have read a couple of somewhat negative reviews that brought up some points that rang true to me.

First let me give a brief summary of the story (for the very few of you who don't know by now): Time: 9/11, one year later. Setting: NYC. Main Character: Nine year old boy, Oskar, who's just lost his Dad in the WTC. Oskar is also the story's narrator. Oskar loves the internet and knowledge and tinkering and inventing and exploring and hasn't yet come to terms (not that one ever does) with his Father's death. His mom has started dating again and this is problematic for Oskar. Although he is extremely bright, the adults in Oskar's world can't get a handle on him and worry about his behavior/state of mind. His grandmother (his Dad's mom) lives right across the street from him and, as most grandmother's do, loves to dote on him and spend lots of time with him. Oskar, unlike most grandkids, likes to spend time with her, too. I'm not sure Oskar has a friend his own age. I think part of Oskar's shtick is that kids his own age don't get him. I could be wrong, though.

OK I don't think I'm being as brief here as I intended but let me just add that the plot of the story has to do with a key Oskar finds in his Dad's closet that he is convinced will, if he can just figure out what it goes to, give him more insight into who his Dad was, thus helping him deal with his loss. The quest begins! Enter a varied cast of assorted New Yorkers with stories of their own who all find Oskar as endearing as the reader does, or should. Apart from the main plot consisting of the mystery of the key, there is a subplot involving Oskar's estranged grandfather and the relationship (or lack thereof) he has with his grandmother and father. The two stories end up weaving together and, in the end, there is, for me, an extremely sweet and touching denouement involving Oskar, his Dad, and his Grandfather.

Now onto the criticism (finally!). The character that is Oskar's grandfather was sort of annoying and there was a bit of nonsense involving the marriage between the grandfather and grandmother and private spaces and silent communication and magazine purchasing. I'm afraid Foer may have felt that creating Oskar's grandfather as a WWII/Dresden bombing survivor might not make him sympathetic enough and decided to throw in a dead girlfriend and a loss of the ability to speak. For me this was going too far. On top of that his grandmother (sister to the dead girlfriend) was just plain weird when it came to the relationship between her and the grandfather. So for me, it was all about Oskar's story and his voice. Fortunately (for me anyway), that part of the story is so strong and so well written that the other more unbelievable bits are (overall) easy to put up with.

There is one scene in particular that really got to me and made me forget about all the other bullshit that may have bothered me. It's the scene where Oskar finally meets the man behind the key. Their encounter is sincere and sweet and emotionally moving without being gimmicky or overly sentimental. And anyone who reviews this book and fails to acknowledge that is full of shit. Granted, one honest exchange between two characters does not a great book make, but it does go to show that Foer has created something at the least credible and at best truly special here. Bag on his literary tricks and gimmicks in other parts of the book all you want, but the emotion evoked in this particular scene is completely legit and to suggest otherwise is proof that you are either pigheaded or emotionally bankrupt.

While I do think there's some legitimate criticism out there regarding what some refer to as Foer's use (or misuse, or confused use--whatever) of magic realism, the bottom line is there's not enough distraction there to take away from Oskar's story, and that's what the book is truly all about.

عالی

"A great game that Dad and I would sometimes play on Sundays was Reconnaissance Expedition. ...For the last one we ever did, which never finished, he gave me a map of Central Park. I said, 'And?' And he said, 'And what?' I said, 'Where are the clues?' He said, 'Who said there had to be clues?' 'There are always clues.' 'That doesn't, in itself, suggest anything.' 'Not a single clue?' He said, 'Unless no clue is a clue.' 'Is no clues a clue?' He shrugged his shoulders, like he had no idea what I was talking about. I loved that."

Months after nine-year-old Oskar Schell's father dies in the World Trade Center attack, Oskar finds a vase on a shelf in his father's closet. Inside the vase is an envelope with "Black" written on it, and inside the envelope is a key. Oskar decides that he has to go on this last mission of his father's and find the lock that the key fits. He does this by attempting to visit every single person in New York City with the last name Black and asking them if they knew his father. There are other mysteries in play, too - some for Oskar, and some for the reader: who wrote "Thomas Schell" all over an art supply store a full year after Oskar's father died? What is the identity of the mysterious "renter" who lives with Oskar's grandmother and is never seen? And, most important to the reader, what was recorded on the five phone messages that Oskar's dad sent as the towers were being attacked?
The mysteries are compelling, and serve as a distraction (both for Oskar and the reader) from the crushing, overwhelming sadness and grief that surrounds this story which is, at its core, the story of a family coping with the unexpected death of a loved one.

I don't care if I was suckered in by this emotional story; it worked, dammit. Everything was beautiful and exciting and tense and so, so, incredibly sad that I wanted to stop reading at times. I loved the mysteries, too (although the main mystery is dragged out thanks to a circumstance that's so unlikely and only serves to draw out the story that I can't condone it), and I'm happy to report that yes, Safran Foer does us all a solid and lets his child protagonist actually solve the mystery he sets out the solve at the beginning of the story, unlike some authors I could name. (I'm looking at you, Donna Tartt. You know what you did.)

The book was, all in all, powerful and gripping, and now I have to take time to speak directly to the author.

Dear Mr. Safran Foer,

First, you are awesome. You write wonderfully, and judging by this book's jacket photo are much cuter than a brilliant author has any right to be. I want you to keep coming out with wonderful books like this, and I have only two requests.

1) Find a new story to tell. Let's try a game: I'm going to summarize one of your books, and you have to guess which one.

A son goes on a long odyssey to a strange place to discover the truth about his grandfather. He has almost nothing to go on, but accompanied by unlikely guides he manages to find the truth by interviewing various strangers who are altogether much more open to a perfect stranger than they probably should be. The story is narrated partially by someone with a very funny way of speaking, and partially by someone reflecting on the past. The flashbacks, told in non-linear style, describe the romance between two people that was disrupted by a tragedy caused by World War Two. Books and words have great importance in the flashbacks, and there's a character with unusual methods of record-keeping.

Did you guess? I was describing Everything Is Illuminated. You can tell because in that one, the son is looking for the truth about his grandfather. In Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, the son finds out the truth about his grandfather and his father.

Your writing is good. It's really, really good. I'd just like to read about something different now.

2) I'm going to say this as clearly as possible: for the love of God, start. A new. Paragraph. Every. Time. A New. Character. Speaks.

I read fast, and I have enough trouble following which character is speaking when the author uses paragraph breaks and doesn't identify who's speaking. When you put all the dialogue in one long paragraph it all blends together and pretty soon I have no idea who is saying what and it makes things difficult. I get that you are making a stylistic choice, but when it interferes with the telling of your story, enough is enough. For fuck's sake.

I liked this better than expected, and for the storytelling more than because it was particularly moving.

I won’t say I was unmoved, but I did feel at a remove from what I thought might be either an overly intense or unfortunately contrived retelling of the 9/11 tragedy. So difficulty to novelize a formative disaster that’s still fresh in the hearts and minds of most of the generations reading the book.

I visited the memorial in NYC last year and was nearly overwhelmed by its impact—and I didn’t even go I to the interpretive center. If you lived through it by living in the US as an adult at the time, it’s still a lot to take in.

This novel naturally sparked my own memories of that period of time, but it didn’t itself transport me to time, place, or event—for better or worse and not sure which of those judgments I would pick.

After gradually getting over how irritating I at first found the kid—the first up of three rotating narrators, I found the characters and their entwined narratives engaging.

De gustibus

In cucina amo le cose semplici, i piatti basici ben amalgamati, ma poco elaborati. Detesto vengano 'inquinati' con carichi eccessivi di ingredienti o salsine che tolgono il sapore originario della sostanza, sapore che devo sentire forte e chiaro e in maniera ineccepibile.

Pasta aglio olio e peperoncino, spaghetti coi pomodorini, pizza margherita, o pizza bianca con due olivine, per fare qualche esempio. Nulla per me è più gustoso di pane e salame (rigorosamente di Felino, paese del parmense, preciso che non mi cibo di gatti). Lo stesso dicasi coi dolci, se deve essere tiramisù che sia, ma che sia fatto nel modo più semplice possibile, senza carichi eccessivi di cioccolato e di altri ingredienti (amaretti o altre aggiunte strane che gravano stuprandone il sapore originale) che rendono poi pesante la digestione.

Tutto 'sto "pippone" culinario per dire che il libro di Foer mi è risultato indigesto, pesante da digerire. Troppo pieno di ingredienti, tutti con lo stesso sapore, tutti facenti leva sulla medesima papilla gustativa. Tanto greve da risultare stucchevole.

Много ми хареса :) Отивам да гледам филма.

Ο Οσκαρ ειναι ενα παιδι ξεχωριστο.με τα προβληματα της ηλικιας του , αλλα και με προβληματα αλλα που θα ηταν αβασταχτα για εναν "μεγαλο".το κυριοτερο αυτων? Ο χαμος του πολυαηαπημενου του μπαμπα , ο οποιος ηταν ενα απο τα θυματα του τρομοκρατικου χτυπηματος της 11ης Σεπτεμβριου.τα μυστικα που κρατανε οι γονεις του, ο ιδιος , η γιαγια του και ολο το περιβαλλον του τους κρατανε "απιστευτα μακρυα" , ομως το συμπερασμα που βγαινει τελικα απο το βιβλιο ειναι οτι ο πονος , οσο πιο δυνατος ειναι, τοσο μας ενωνει με γνωστους και αγνωστους , αρκει να μην ξεχναμε οτι ο πονος και η δυστυχια ειναι ισως το πιο σιγουρο κοινο στοιχειο που διέπει την ανθρωποτητα.
Δεν ξερω πως να αποδοσω σε λογια το τι μου προκαλεσε μεσα μου αυτο το βιβλιο.εχω μια τεραστια ευαισθησια με τα παιδια και πιστευω ακραδαντα πως ολες οι απαντησεις που ψαχνουμε εμεις οι μεγαλοι στα τεραστια και αναπαντητα ερωτηματα μας βρισκονται στην αληθεια και τον αυθορμητισμο των παιδιων.ο Οσκαρ λοιπον μου εδωσε παρα πολλες απαντησεις. Η ιστορια του ηταν γεματη με συναισθημα και αληθεια.οποια σελιδα και αν διαβασεις, ειναι πλημμυρισμενη απο ωμο συναισθημα σαν να ανοιγεις μια πληγη στο σωμα σου.ο τροπος γραφης ειναι μοναδικος.οι προτασεις που πολλες φορες δεν ακολουθουν την κανονικη ροη μοιαζουν με αριστοτεχνικα οργανωμενη χορογραφια.ακομη και οι εικονες που περιεχονται προσθετουν στο συναισθημα που σε πλημμυριζει..ενα βιβλιο αριστουργηματικο για μενα που θα το σκεφτομαι για πολυ πολυ καιρο.

O carte plina de tristete, care te poarta prin labirintul a doua generatii diferite, intr-o pendulare intre real si imaginatie, fara o noima aparenta. Dar nici tristetea nu are o logica, de foarte multe ori. Am fost prinsa intr-o panza de intamplari din prezentul lui Oskar si trecutul bunicilor sai, pe alocuri m-am straduit sa imi dau seama ce este real si ce este imaginatie, dar totul arunca o alta lumina asupra suferintei unui copil, in ce masura il afecteaza pierderea unui parinte intr-un mod atat de dramatic.

کتاب روایتگر زندگی پسری نه ساله (اسکار) و خونوادشه که پدرش رو در حمله تروریستی یازدهم سپتامبر از دست داده.
اسکار خلاق و باهوش داستان عاشق حل معماها و پیدا کردن جواب سوالاته. بعد اون واقعه ذهن جستجوگرش سعی در پایین آوردن درصد خطاها داره با فکر کردن به اختراعاتی گاها عجیب که زندگی رو آسون و جون انسانها رو حفظ کنه. برخورد اتفاقیش با یک کلید و یک اسم،معمایی رو براش ایجاد میکنه که تلاشش در جهت حل این معما، داستان اصلی رو شکل میده.اما اسکار تنها راوی این کتاب نیست. مادربزرگ و پدربزرگش راوی های بعدی هستن که با توصیف زندگیشون در گذشته، جنبه ها و لایه های جدیدی به داستان اضافه میکنن.
فوئراز نمایی نزدیک به تشریح حال افرادی میپردازه که قربانی اصلی جنگ ها و دشمنی ها هستن. از تقابل روحیشون با فقدان عزیزی از دست رفته و تلاششون برای دست یابی به آرامشی میگه که انگار برای همیشه نیست شده. و چه بیان منسجم و تاثیرگذاری داره در طرح داستان.شخصیت های دوست داشتنی کتاب شدیدا ملموسن و قابل درک و همراهت میکنن تا شنونده ی زندگیشون شی.
از دیگر نکات جالب این کتاب، تایپوگرافی متفاوت و جذابشه که خوندن این کتاب رو لذت بخش ترم میکنه .

Jonathan Safran Foer mi lascia interdetta. Mi era capitato con “ogni cosa è illuminata”, mi ricapita anche questa volta. Sono giunta alla conclusione che sia geniale.
Come non definire geniale uno scrittore che riesce a farti emozionare di fronte alle vicende di un ragazzino di nove anni (che parla come un uomo di trenta), Oskar Schell, saputello, dopo aver raccontato per oltre la metà del libro, con uno stile originale, con pagine bianche dove c’è scritta una sola frase o addirittura una sola parola, che si susseguono a pagine con fotografie, il suo vagabondaggio per le strade di New York alla ricerca della soluzione del mistero rappresentato da un bigliettino trovato nel ripostiglio in cui il padre Thomas, morto durante l’attacco alle torri gemelle, teneva le sue cose; oltretutto con una narrazione frammentaria, in cui si alternano le vicende di Oskar con quelle dei suoi nonni paterni, vissuti in Germania durante la seconda guerra mondiale e trasferitisi da Dresda a New York, personaggi strambi come tutti quelli che animano le pagine dei libri di Safran Foer, che manifestano le loro sofferenze interiori con comportamenti assurdi. Insomma, una gran confusione di storie, che si accavallano a volte compenetrandosi, ogni personaggio con il racconto in prima persona della propria storia, fatta di dolore, di un grande e profondo dolore che trabocca ed invade ogni parola, ogni riga, ogni pagina del romanzo. E’ eccessivo in tutto, Foer, nelle parole e anche nel compiacimento di essere tanto bravo (anche se riconosco di averlo trovato più sobrio rispetto a “ogni cosa è illuminata”).
In un tale caos narrativo, ci sono dei gioielli che mi hanno emozionato come poche altre pagine lette finora: la favola del sesto distretto di New York raccontata dal papà Thomas a Oskar la sera prima che morisse, il racconto del bombardamento di Dresda e poi il dialogo finale di Oskar con la madre, un personaggio che non si capisce per quale motivo rimane sempre ai margini della storia, fa quasi da spettatrice silenziosa fino alla fine.
Sì, Jonathan Safran Foer, per me, è geniale. Per le emozioni che mi ha dato si merita 4 stelline.

چـــــــــــــرا جــــــــــــــــــایی که تــــــــــــــــــو هســــــــــــــــــتی مـــــــــــــــــــن نیســــــــتـــــم

بینهایت بلند و به غایت نزدیک را روزی تابستانی و گرم که نتوانستم با کسی بیرون برم پس رفتم کتابفروشی خریدم { به قول اسکار : با اینکه روز غم انگیزی بود، واقعا زیبا به نظر میرسید}. به محض رسیدن و شروع به خواندن کردن میدانستم با پست مدرنی ساده و در عین حال عجیب طرفم که بودم.
هر چه بیشتر پیش رفتم بیش تر در کتاب غرق شدم و در همان روز تمام شدن کتاب فیلمم دیدم که مانند بیشتر اقتباس ها پایین تر از کتاب بود و رابطه ی پدربزرگ و مادربزرگ اسکار نتوانست به آن خالصی کلمات درآید. اما گذاشت بیشتر در دنیای کتاب سیر کنم و لذت ببرم . کتاب درباره اسکار شل پسری نه ساله است که پس از مرگ پدرش در حادثه ی 11 سپتامبر و پس از زجر هایی که میکشد کلیدی بالای کمد پدرش پیدا میکند و شروع میکند به تک تک سر زدن به خانه های نیویورک که صاحبانی با نام بلک دارند. فکر میکند کلید را پدرش برایش به جا گذاشته تا به ماجراجویی دعوتش کند...

آنچه کتاب را زیباتر میکرد قدرت کلمات بود که درکنار هم جفت شده بودند، تکه هایی بودند که میگفتم دارم شعر میخوانم و این کلمات از یک رمان بالا نمی آیند، در واقع نمیدانستم که داستانی را شعرگونه نوشته اند یا شعری را جای داستان به من قالب کرده اند. در هر دو صورت چیزی از عشق من به شاعرانگی کتاب کم نشد ...
مثل

یکی از از بازوهام را تا کرد.
یکی از بازوهام را صاف کرد.
هفته ی بعد موهام را تماشاکرد، چیزی حدود پنج یا پنجاه دقیقه

یا
خواهران جوان زیر سقف خانه ی کودکی شان . باد به پنجره ها می زد.
چه طور چیزی کمتر از این میتوانست استحقاق خراب شدن را داشته باشد ؟


صفحات و عکس هایی که شخصا فکر میکنم کتاب بدون آن ها به این درصد از تاثیرگذاری نمیرسید و ترجمه و قلم نویسنده و دیالوگ های عجیب و خنده دار واقع گرایانه و پایان بندی همه دست به دست هم دادند که بیشتر لذت ببرم.
توجه و اهمیت بسیار زیاد نویسنده به کانون خانواده که برای بعضی گرم و برای بعضی سرد است،به حدی اجتناب ناپذیر بود که حس میکردم اگر از خانواده ام شخصی کم شود چه غمی که پیدا نمیکنم.
کتاب هر آنچیزی است که باید باشد خنده دار، گریه آور، مسخره، دیوانگی محض که رفتند سر قبر خالی و دوست داشتنی ترین چیزی که چند وقت گذاشته بعد از فیلم رما بهم چسبید.{ میدانم مقایسه ی رما کوآرون با بی نهایت بلند و به غایت نزدیک کاری بیهوده و دور از ذهن است ولی شخصیت های آن فیلم و کاراکتر های این کتاب قبل از هرچیز دیگری قابل درک اند. }
جاناتان سفران فوئز : نویسنده

من آنا را برای آخرین بار می بوسیدم، خانواده ام را برای آخرین بار می دیدم، برای آخرین بار حرف میزدم، چرا یاد نمیگرفتم با همه چیز جوری برخورد کنم که انگار آخرین بارم است. بزرگترین افسوسم این بود که چه قدر به آینده اعتقاد داشتم.

فقط به این فکر می کردم که چطور همه ی این ها اسم های آدم های مرده هستند و چه طور اسم ها اساسا تنها چیزی هستند که مرده ها نگه می دارند.
از متن کتاب

Una filastrocca interminabile, ben scritta in ogni verso ma quando chiudi il libro alla fine della lettura non rimane quasi niente, solo parole che si leggono con piacere ma che non si legano in un insieme.