Book 2: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close - Jonathan Safran Foer

This book is a gem. I absolutely loved this book, and I think you will too.

Oskar Schell is an intelligent, eccentric 9-year old who is deeply affected by his father’s death just one year ago in the World Trade Center crisis of 9/11. It is obvious that Oskar is deeply traumatized by this incident and is having difficulty coping with it as his mother gets a new boyfriend, he doesn’t get the attention he deserves, and life continues to move forward without his father. It’s not as obvious that he is 9 years old – I had to double check the back cover to make sure – he was definitely too mature for his age.

One day as Oskar rummages through his apartment he finds an envelope labeled ‘Black,’ and in it he finds a key that belonged to his father. Oskar sets himself on a mission to find the lock that matches this key in order to keep a connection with his father and to figure out his secret. The journey to find this lock sets this novel in motion. His first task is to meet every New Yorker with the last name ‘Black.’ The tasks that encompass this fact-finding mission lead Oskar to run into a wide array of people. What makes this novel so beautiful isn’t the encounters or the events themselves, but the point of view of this fascinating young boy. The way Oskar thinks, the way he frames events – well, mainly his train of thought make this book easy to read and easy to relate to.

At the same time, interspersed throughout Oskar’s journey, Foer tells the story of Oskar’s grandparents, how they met, and how they lived, and their marriage. If anything, that story is even more captivating. The characters are again eccentric, especially the Grandfather who chooses not to speak, and their journeys that led them to each other is brilliantly thought out. You discover the Grandfather’s version of the story in the form of a letter, and you get the Grandmother’s version in her personal account expressed directly to Oskar. Let’s just say that Grandfather, in his adolescence, falls in love with Grandmother’s sister Anna in Dresden, and when he meets Grandmother in America they decide to marry a loveless relationship.

“…the center of me followed her, but I was left with the shell of me, I needed to see her again, I couldn’t explain my need to myself, and that’s why it was such a beautiful need, there’s nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.”

“It’s the tragedy of loving, you can’t love anything more than something you miss.”

The structure of this novel is also something to consider.
Images. The novel is interlaced with images. (see post photo) That interesting choice of images makes you feel like you’re joining Oskar on his journey to find this lock. When Oskar finds a clue, you do too in the form of a picture. This element of the book, I believe, connects you even more to Oskar – it’s almost as if you’re going through the journey directly with him.
Format. The novel is also structured differently through its unique format. On some pages you’ll find only a word or a phrase.

I actually wrote this review when I was up to page 160, about half-way through the book, while I had my ideas fresh on my mind and thinking that I would have more to write once I finished. Surprisingly, I have nothing more to add. I’d like to reemphasize how amazing this book is… it got even better as I kept reading, and I’ll leave you with this amusing passage that really gives you a flavor of Oskar’s character:

As he walked out of the room, Jimmy said, “Hey, Oskar, who’s Buckminster?” I told him, “Richard Buckminster Fuller was a scientist, philosopher, and inventor who is most famous for designing the geodesic dome, whose most famous version is the Buckyball. He died in 1983, I think.” Jimmy said, “I mean your Buckminster.”

I didn’t know why he was asking, because I’d brought Buckminster to school for a demonstration only a couple of weeks before, and dropped him from the roof to show how cats reach terminal velocity by making themselves into little parachutes, and that cats actually have a better chance of surviving a fall from the twentieth floor than the eight floor, because it takes them about eight floors to realize what’s going on, and relax and correct themselves. I said, “Buckminster is my pussy.”