Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

It was interesting and heartfelt, but it wasn’t a page turner.

Jonathan Safran Foer has written a novel for our times, a story so deeply affecting and wise that it has to potential to have an impact far beyond that of most novels. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is a collage about the world we live in: its terrorism, its beauty, its love, its mysteries, its absurdities, its people. Oskar is a precocious nine-year old who writes letters to famously intelligent people asking to be their protégé, invents a "googolplex" of devices (such as an ambulance that tells people when a loved one is inside and a lollipop that tells people how they are feeling), who knows a tremendous amount of facts (many of which he wishes he didn't know) - and who has lost his beloved father in the World Trade Center bombings. Oskar harbors a secret about that day that he cannot bring to share with anyone, not even his mother or grandmother. When he discovers a strange key among his father's possessions, he sets out in the five boroughs of New York to see what it unlocks. His narrative is punctuated by that of his grandfather, a man left speechless by what he experienced during the bombing of Dresden, and his grandmother, also a survivor of the Dresden firebombing, who loves Oskar in ways his mother cannot and who tries to make sense of why her husband left her before the birth of their son. The relationships are complex and heartfelt, and are marked by an affection that will make readers laugh from the pleasure of them. Just when you think Foer can't get any deeper with his insights, he does. Foer embraces postmodernism by including stock photographs that don't have a depth of meaning until the text gives it to them, as well as letters, email, handwritten notes, and a numerical conversation between Oskar's grandparents. This is not cold postmodernism, though; the artifacts contained here illustrate the depth of Oskar's longing and the complexity of the world we live in. Many will make readers smile as they make the connections to Oskar's "story of my life." At first this novel reminded me somewhat of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, but it quickly plunges into something much more multifaceted and universal: it ultimately is about surviving love. Its quirky humor - how can a novel about the WTC tragedy be so funny? - makes even the most difficult moments easier to read. Everyone should read this novel. You will not emerge unchanged. This novel will be known as the quintessential 9/11 novel, the one that will forever categorize all that the tragedy unleashed in America.

I received this book as a gift from a friend (thanks Map) and knew nothing about it when it arrived. The front of the book has a red hand with the name of the book and the author's name along with the words "a novel". The back of the book has two reviews. The inside front jacket has another short blurb and a summary of the book. The inside back jacket has the required picture of the author and a brief biography. Now take my advice. Don't read the blurb... it gives too much away. This book is best read as a blank slate. That is how I read it and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Although maybe enjoyed isn't the right word. Wait. This doesn't seem like much of a review. Let me start again. This book is about autism, and the World Trade Center, and family, and the bombing of Dresden, and learning to live with loss, and learning to forgive. The book is about people who have been broken... broken by their experiences in a cruel world full of fear and hatred. But they learn to cope with their pain by searching for meaning in their loss. That is what Foer uses as the basis to build this amazing story. The first chapter of the book starts with the words, "What about a teakettle?" By the end of the first chapter I was hooked. I turn to a random page and find these words: ***I thought, I'm the one who's supposed to be crying."Don't cry," I told her. "Why not?" she asked. "Because," I told her. "Because what?" she asked. Since I didn't know why she was crying, I couldn't think of a reason.*** And these: ***At first I thought I'd walked into a tree, but then that tree became a person, who was also recovering on the ground, and then I saw that it was her and she saw that it was me...*** It is so well written and although the story is really a fairy tale more than a novel, the characters are so real and so believable in their pain that the whole thing holds together beautifully. This is a book that I treasure having read.

Sometimes an author has a theme running through all of his writing -- in the case of Jonathan Safran Foer, it seems to be a quest of the soul. His follow-up to the cult hit "Everything Is Illuminated" is the poignant, quirky, tender "Extremely Loud And Incredibly Close," which takes readers back to the rubble of ground zero. Oskar Schell is a precocious preteen, who has been left depressed and traumatized. His father died in the September 11 attacks, leaving behind a mysterious key in an envelope with the word "Black" on it. So with the loyalty and passion that only a kid can muster, he begins to explore New York in search of that lock. As Oskar explores Manhatten, Foer also reaches throughout history to other horrific attacks that shattered people's lives, including his traumatized grandparents. Though the book is sprinkled with letters and stories from before Oskar's time, the boy's quest is the center of the book. And when he finally finds where the key belongs, he will find out a little something about human nature as well... Historically, only a short time has passed since 9/11, and in some ways "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" reopens the wounds. It reminds me of all the families who lost fathers, mothers and children. But Foer doesn't use cheap sentimentalism to draw in his readers, nor does he exploit the losses of September 11th families. It takes guts to write a book like this, and skill to do it well. In some ways, this book is much like Foer's first novel, but he deftly avoids retreading old ground -- the "quest" is vastly different, the young protagonist is very different, and the conflicts and loss are different, though no less hard-hitting. Foer also sticks to that wonderfully oddballish prose, which gives a gloss of lightness to a deep plot. After all, that is what made his first book so appealing -- there are parts of "Extremely" that are laugh-out-loud funny, and quirky characters worthy of a Wes Anderson movie. For example, one scene has Oskar sending a letter to Stephen Hawking, asking, "Can I please be your protégé?" Child genius Oskar will probably make you want to either smack or hug him -- I tended more towards hugs. That's because Foer doesn't make Oskar seem like a tiny adult -- he's brilliant, but his mind still has the whimsy of a child's mind. His little "inventions" are just the sort of thing you'd expect an imaginative nine-year-old to create, and his quest is a realistic one, considering the tragedy he had suffered. "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" proves that Jonathan Safran Foer was no one-hit wonder. His enchanting second book tackles a great tragedy with warmth, depth and sensitivity. Outstanding.