Tan fuerte, tan cerca

There must be something wrong with me. I’m not as smart as my goodreader friends. I lack empathy. My humor is deficient. I have no compassion. And I suck at life.

Of the 40 of you “friends” who read this, this is how you rated it:

5-stars: 18 people
4-stars: 13 people
3-stars: 7 people
2-stars: 2 people
1-star: 0 people

Something wrong with me indeed.

(Or something wrong with all of you.)

No. I didn’t finish it. I value opportunity and freedom too much for that. I listened to it. People tell me if I had read it instead of listening to it I would have liked it more. I now tell them that I don’t care.

I have returned this grouping of compact discs to my local library. They are now safely out of my hands. Its twelve separate discs no longer have to worry about me yelling obscenities at them extremely loudly. They need not be concerned that they get thrown again at the passenger side door, incredibly closely.

So go away Jonathan Safran Foer. Don’t cry for me Argentina. It’s your birthday, don’t cry if you want to. Stop your sobbing. I was crying just to get you, now I'm dying cause I let you -- do what you do down on me. Or not. Okay, please don’t. Seriously, I’ve had enough. You are cheesy and you annoy me. I’m done. So take your forced cuteness and your vegan cupcakes and go home.

Oskar, a thoughtful kid full of quirks and handicaps, finds a key. So the journey he goes on to find its (and his own) place in the world should be inspiring at least. But although Oskar learns all sorts of interesting things everywhere he goes, he never really makes any progress. And similarly, neither does the story.

Right from the start, the prose is sharp, and the characters stand out. The father particularly is just as likable as can be. But the story as a whole moves in too many directions without ever really going anywhere. Combine that with the different perspectives, and it comes out as a scrambled mess.

It feels like George RR Martin and Chuck Palahniuk teamed up to write this. It might be awesome, but it just doesn't work.

One of the most wonderful and thought provoking legacy of 9-11 books that I've read. The book starts not long after 9-11, when/where the father of the 9 year old narrator Oskar was killed. Events come to pass in which he finds a key, a key that sets him off on an investigation all over New York, with the aid of several other individuals that cross his path, seeking answers about himself and his 9-11 trauma.

There is also another story being told at the same time, using letters from Oskar's grandfather and grandmother to his father. It all ties in nicely, and is a pretty ingenious way for showing the reader an example of how trauma can be worked through. 8 out of 12.

2007 read

از خوندنش لذت بردم. از عکس‌ها، خلاقیت‌ها، شیوه روایت، جزئیات، ویرگول‌ها، صفحه‌ها، از سکوت‌ها و کلمه‌ها. تماماً برام دلنشین بود.

پرسید: «می‌ترسی؟»
«از چی؟»
گفت: «زندگی کردن از مرگ سخت‌تر است.»

«چی می‌شد اگر آبی که از دوش سرازیر می‌شد مثل ماده‌ای شیمیایی عمل می‌کرد و به ترکیب چیزها واکنش نشان می‌داد، مثل تپش قلب و دمای بدن و امواج مغزی، برای همین پوست بر اساس تغییر حال و هوا تغییر رنگ می‌داد؟ اگر آدم خیلی هیجان‌زده می‌شد، رنگ پوست سبز می‌شد و اگر عصبانی می‌شد، رنگ پوست قرمز می‌شد. طبیعتاً، اگر حس گه‌گوله‌ای بهش دست می‌داد، رنگش قهوه‌ای می‌شد و اگر غصه‌ می‌خورد، رنگش آبی می‌شد.
همه خبر داشتند آن دیگری چه حسی دارد و می‌توانستند نسبت به هم محتاط‌تر باشند. چون آدم دیگر اینجوری هیچوقت به کسی که پوستش کبود شده بود، نمی‌گفت چون دیر آمده، از دستش عصبانی است، اینطوری می‌زدی پشت آدمی که صورتی شده و به‌اش می‌گفتی: «مبارک باشد.»
دلیل دیگری واسه اینکه می‌توانست اختراع خوبی باشد این بود که خیلی وقت‌ها آدم‌ها حس‌های متفاوتی دارند، اما نمی‌دانند چه‌شان شده است. خسته شده‌ام؟ یا شاید فقط دست‌پاچه‌ام؟ این گیجی‌ها حال و هوای آدم را عوض می‌کند و خودش می‌شود حال و هوای شما و آدم گیج می‌شود، اما با این آب ویژه می‌توانید به دست‌های نارنجی‌تان نگاه کنید و فکر کنید؛ من خوشحالم! تمام این مدت من درواقع خوشحال بوده‌ام! آخیش!»

Extremely Loud and Incredbily Close: Jonathan Foer's novel of love, loss, and memory

There are events that leave an indelible stamp on us for a great portion of our lives. This happens from generation to generation.

Ask those living at the time of the attack on Pearl Harbor where they were and what they were doing, they will be able to tell you the answer. Similarly, ask me where I was when I heard John F. Kennedy was shot, I can tell you.

Ask what I was doing when the attacks of 9/11 occurred, I can tell you. I had arrived at work at the District Attorney's Office. My chief side kick with whom I was working prep for a trial, ran into the grand jury room and said turn on the television. I did. What I saw was something I could not accept.

n  n

Jonathan Foer goes far past the point of remembrance. Foer drops you into the shoes of 8 year old Oskar Schell. For him, 9/11 is not simply an event which he will remember for its historical significance. It is an event he lives daily because he lost his father that day. And the event is brought home to him, for he has a cell phone with his father's messages sent from the twin towers that day. This is a secret he keeps from his mother, for he wants to protect her from the pain of those messages. It is an incredible burden for a child to bear.

n  n

Oskar is left with a gamut of guilt and fears, resulting in a state of vicarious traumatic response to his father's death. His grief is all the more palpable because he is extremely gifted and incredibly cursed with an intelligence far more gifted than children his age.

Oskar shared a bond with his father, who fostered that intelligence, by devoting great attention on his son, gently lulling him to sleep at nights by reading him the New York Times and circling the errors they found in red ink. His father challenged Oskar's intelligence by setting up questions for Oskar to solve, leaving clues amounting to a trail of breadcrumbs leading him to a solution of the problems he designed for him.

Or did he? Did his father actually do this? Or is this something which Oskar has perceived in his mind alone?

The action of this novel occurs a year after the fall of the Towers. Oskar is still dealing with the traumatization of his father's loss. In an effort to keep the memory of his father close, Oskar frequently hides in his father's closet where the scent of his father's shaving still lingers in his mind, if only in his mind.

A bundle of memories and his fears cripple Oskar in his dealings with others, especially his schoolmates, whom are not affected by the fall of the Towers as Oskar is. Nor does Oskar perceive his mother to be as deeply affected by the loss of his father. She has a new friend, Ron, who becomes a frequent visitor to the apartment. Oskar hears their laughter in the living room, as he hides in his father's closet. At one point, typical of a child, he tells his mother he wishes it had been her who died that day. It is something a child would say, intentionally hurting the remaining parent, then immediately struck with the hurt he inflicted on his mother whom he loved without question.

There are strong clues that while Oskar is undoubtedly a prodigy of intelligence far beyond his years, that Oskar just might suffer from more than childhood fears. Is it that Oskar is afflicted by Asperger's Syndrome? A look into the Diagnostic Services Manual--I believe we're in the fifth edition of that psychological cookbook, now, reveals that this is a distinct possibility.

Oskar is enveloped in a net of pattern and design, a characteristic shared by children with this diagnosis. He is awkward in his social interactions. Nor does he seem to grasp the results of his actions in social settings. Play on words which Oskar finds hilarious are lost and misunderstood by those around him. Oskar's behavior in filling daybooks with events that have happened to him, including other tragic events occurring before and after 9/11 take on a ritualistic quality, echoing some of the characteristics shared by those diagnosed with Asperger's, which is considered a sub diagnosis of autism. It is a matter of degree, not an exclusion from that diagnosis.

That Oskar is unaware of the consequences of his behavior on his teacher and his fellow students is clear. In graphic detail, he explains the results of the bombing of Hiroshima, sharing a video interview with a survivor of the first use of an atomic bomb against a civilian population.

That Osckar's last name is Schell is a clever device used to great benefit by Foer. For Oskar is a veritable Chambered Nautilus consisting of impenetrable chambers of secrets revealed only by gently bisecting the shell of a nautilus.

Oskar's mother carries her son to be counseled by Doctor Fein, who is anything but fine in his ability to reach Oskar and release him from all the fears held within him, brought about from his father's death.

It is only through Oskar's discovery of one last mystery he believes was left him by his father to solve, that Oskar begins to live outside himself and become engaged with people outside his immediate family that just might allow him to move forward from the prison of the loss of his father.

Quite by accident, Oskar spies a blue vase on the top shelf of his father's closet. Stacking his works of Shakespeare in his father's closet, Oskar stretches to reach the vase, only to tip it off the shelf, shattering it on the floor of the closet. It contains a key, with an envelope. Written on the envelope is the word "Black" written in red ink.

Oskar determines that the answer to his father's last mystery is the key and someone named Black. Although the number of locks in New York City is mind shattering, Oskar, a child of the internet, decides to track down all the Blacks in New York City in an effort to find the secret of what the key opens.

It is this journey, if anything, that will allow Oskar to move beyond the death of his father and live his own life.

Foer, in a display of brilliance, introduces us to Oskar's grandmother and the grandfather, Oskar never knew. Thomas Schell, for whom Oskar's father was named, also is trapped within the memories of another terrible incident in Human history, the firebombing of Dresden. The elder Thomas, although once capable of speech, can no longer speak a word, but communicates by writing in blank day books. He disappeared before the birth of Oskar's father.

n  n

We learn of the elder Thomas's history through his letters to his unborn child and through his life with Oskar's grandmother, who lives in an apartment building across the street from Oskar. Oskar and his grandmother communicate by walkie talkies at all times of the day and night.

It is through the writings of the elder Thomas Schell that we experience first hand the horror of living through one of the great acts of inhumanity against man--the fire bombing of Dresden during World War II by the Royal Airforce and the United States 8th Airforce from February 13-15th, 1945. Those events leave Thomas Schell a man forever changed.

The beauty of Foer's novel is the answer he provides in the resolution of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. We recover from the tragedies of our lives through the bonds we share with others. This is the ultimate beauty of life.

While some critics, and some readers, find Foer's novel, manipulative and cloyingly sweet, I find it an affirmation of life. To paraphrase Faulkner's Nobel Acceptance Speech, it is through reaching out to others that not only are we able to endure, it is the way we prevail.

This is a solid 6 Stars literary masterpiece. If it makes you cry, take joy for the fact Foer reminds us we are human, not only capable of acts of inhumanity, but also capable of acts of great love and forgiveness.

Sometimes, I'm actually grateful for when good ol' insomnia kicks in. I can deep clean my kitchen without any distractions, play catch-up with the never-ending, nervous-breakdown-inducing amount of laundry I have, and even try to finally watch a movie (surprisingly, even snooze-worthy The Wolfman couldn't get me to sleep). And of course, I can read. Sure, I hate myself in the morning and feel like crap all day, but there's times that it's worth it. Especially when the book I'm reading is as good as this.

I loved all the characters in this just as much as I did in Foer's Everything is Illuminated. Admittedly, when I first started, I was thinking, "This Oskar kid is supposed to be nine years old??? Really?" But the more I read, I didn't care; I totally bought it. Bringing to life not only the events on 9/11, but also the Dresden bombings, Foer does show that some good can come out of such horrors. Which I think is really the only thing any of us can do--continuing to live while trying to comprehend something so unimaginable would be almost impossible.

While finishing this early this morning, my son came in to sneak in bed with me, not knowing I was still awake. He saw me, and quietly crawled under the covers. I hugged him so hard and didn't let him go. Though I tell him all the time, this morning I told him over and over how much I loved him, to the point where he got annoyed, rolled over, and went back to sleep-with me still hugging him. That's what this book did to me. As much as we don't like to think about it, the unimaginable does happen, and I just want people to know. This really was an inspiring, beautiful and touching story. Another member for TEAM FOER checking in.



Side note: This is the only book where font size has made me cry. This should have never even been released in audio format. Just sayin'...Ben.

Nella prima metà del romanzo mi sono davvero sentita combattuta, mi trovavo lo sviluppo della trama parecchio confuso e le situazioni in cui si trovava il protagonista inverosimili. Soltanto nei capitoli finali si ottiene una spiegazione chiarificatrice, benché personalmente ritengo alcuni comportamenti ed azioni al limite dell’irrealtà, come ad esempio il fatto che la maggior parte dei Black di New York siano disposti ad assecondare un bambino e sua madre; è stato fortunato a non incontrare gente violenta o poco disponibile. Non mi è piaciuta neppure la risoluzione del mistero della chiave: l’ho trovata troppo semplice, e non capisco come si possa optare per una scappatoia del genere dopo aver curato tanto i dettagli nei capitoli precedenti. Il disappunto più grande è stato però causato dalla superficialità con cui Foer parla dell’autolesionismo in un bambino delle elementari! E anche questo è un elemento irreale, perché se può essere verosimile lasciare il proprio figlio libero di esplorare la città, non lo è di certo ignorare i lividi che si procura in svariate occasioni, io sono mamma quindi non sorvolerei mai su una cosa del genere. I lati positivi sono quando accosta vari punti di vista dello stesso evento per colmare con le informazioni di uno i buchi narrativi dell’altro. Geniale l’impaginazione delle lettere dei nonni di Oskar . Mi sono commossa soltanto al racconto di William Black e, soprattutto, leggendo l’intervista alla donna di Hiroshima.

One of the most beautifully written and impactful stories ive read.