Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

My renaissance of fiction-reading, prompted by participating in book club discussions, led me to Jonathan Safran Foer's 2005 bestseller Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Described as a "graphic novel" because of its use of pictures and creative page layouts, I initially feared it would be gimmicky and thus turn me off. But thankfully my fears were unfounded and I am happy to say that I thoroughly enjoyed this book.


First of all, I loved Oskar! Though some critics cited him as one of the main weaknesses of the book, I found him to be refreshing and thought-provoking. To see the world through the eyes of a precocious, grieving, 9-year-old boy is fascinating, and I thought the experience was particularly well-crafted by the author. There was an innocence as well as a brutality in his honesty that would have been lacking in any other character. To someone who has not read the book it might be hard to explain how the humor and pathos in this figure work side-by-side (without making it sound irreverant or grotesque) but Oskar really does bring the two together.

One of the themes of the book that struck me was the pervasive search for meaning. Oskar's search for the lock in and of itself gave him a temporary purpose because he was seeking something that he truly believed was out there. There was not, in the end, a clear resolution or answer to his longing, though he did become more connected to humanity as a result of the people he met. And he seemed to mature as a result of his quest and to ultimately find something better, which might variously be called "closure," "peace" or "acceptance." Related to this search for meaning was the underlying message about how we convey significance, and the perhaps arbitrary nature of who or what defines significance. I saw this in the relationship between Oskar's grandparents. The "Nothing" and "Something" spaces conveyed not only a sense of disillusionment in their marriage but also a longing for something or someone who might actually designate the various aspects of their lives as "something" or "nothing." For me it raised some general philosophical questions: What is significant? What makes something meaningful? Does it come from ourselves or from somewhere outside of ourselves?

Regarding the graphic elements, I did enjoy the pictures; they added to the story. But what I particularly liked was the playful treatment of text, for example Mr. Black's index cards. Also, pages 281 to 284 were particularly powerful in conveying the tumbling thoughts in Thomas's head, probably magnified because of his inability to speak. I loved the image of the thoughts coming so fast that they were tripping over each other; there was no room for them on the paper and he probably stopped writing because he could not keep up with them. It was a blurring of the lines of what was really written down and what was continued only in his mind.

Though I would not say that this book is one of my favorite reads of all time, I would say that it is a very telling book, particularly in understanding the postmodern mind. Derrida's statement, "There is nothing outside the text" was a salient thought in my mind as I considered the emphasis on perspective in this book. Our own personal experiences create lenses through which we see the world, affecting how we perceive it, and this book was full of examples of this: the bombing of Dresden and its impact on the grandparents, Oskar's fears of bad things happening because of what happened to his Dad on 9/11, and even Oskar's age and personality and how they color his experiences.

I am still processing the various notable elements of this book, and as I flip back through it I am reminded of more: Communication and the written word (Oskar's grandfather and his notebooks, Oskar's own collection of "Stuff That Happened to Me"); the haunting beauty of a man writing to (first) his unborn, then unknown, then dead son; the somewhat macabre but important last step in symbolically sharing his life with his lost son; Oskar's longing for sense and meaning that is shown to be an echo of the same in his grandfather. I could go on. And I'm sure that in a discussion group many more themes would be raised that reflect each individual's experience with the book.

(I do need to give a word of caution that I do not recommend this book to my younger friends because of some dialogue about sexual matters. I don't think this material was handled in a vulgar way, necessarily, but the book is probably not appropriate for those under 18, or those who wish to avoid such material.)

Interestingly, this book does have many detractors and harsh critics. Some say that the protagonist, Oskar, is completely unrealistic, or that the graphic elements are, in fact, distractions and/or failed attempts to be creative and fresh. It seems to be one of those books that will elicit a strong reaction in people. You are probably going to love it or hate it. But I enjoyed the ride.