Jonathan Safran Foer: Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I enjoyed Safran's last book because it was so unique and different from most of the other books I had read (besides maybe Dave Eggers). This newer one was no less impressive, in fact it probably left me more in awe than his first book.

Foer's voice in one that I can relate to when hearing it but know I could never write in. I feel humbled by the way he makes the words dance and tumble in a sometimes chaotic, but perfectly synchronized execution of life and story. He does a lot of stream of consciousness writing which in the past has sometimes left me feeling excluded. Instead, I feel as though he is describing my own thoughts, if only I were bright enough to think them.

In ELIC, Foer writes the story of a little boy whose father dies in the Twin Towers on September 11tth. He does it without the use of patriotism, militarism, political commentary or real mention of terrorism. How refreshing to read such a sad and harrowing story of loss and fear without being pulled away by any political discourse. You get such a real sens of the people and the lives affected by the tragedy of that day and yet the book is quite funny.

The first page of the book:

What about a teakettle? What if the spout opened and closed when the steam came out, so it would become a mouth, and it could whistle pretty melodies, or do Shakespeare, or just crack up with me? I could invent a teakettle that reads in Dad's voice, so I could fall asleep, or maybe a set of kettles that sings the chorus of "Yellow Submarine", which is a song by the Beatles, who I love, because entomology is one of my raisons d'etre, which is a French expression that I know. Another good thing is that I could train my anus to talk when I farted. If I wanted to be extremely hilarious, I'd train it to say "It wasn't me!" every time I made an incredibly bad fart. And if I made an incredibly bad fart in the Hall of Mirrors, which is in Versailles, which is outside of Paris, which is in France, obviously my anus would say, "Ce n'etais pas moi!"

What about little microphone? What is everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pockets of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sounds like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war.

The books contains some great dialogue and a wistfulness that makes you want everything to be okay. I must say, this is one of the best I've read in a long time.

If you're new to this type of contemporary writing or want to give it another shot, try Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Even if you hate it you'll be better off for having read it.