Reading Buddies Wrap-Up: “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” by Jonathan Safran Foer

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Hello, reading buddies! Welcome to the wrap-up for Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. Just a note, as usual, to non-participants: if you haven’t read this one yet, you might not want to read any farther, since spoilers are fair game!

I really loved this book. So much so that it’s a little hard for me to talk about it critically. There are three aspects I want to discuss, though, and of course I’d love to hear what most intrigued you as well.

First, as I mentioned in the discussion post, I thought the images and formatting throughout the book were extremely well done. It was like sometimes what I was holding was a novel, sometimes Oskar’s book of pictures, and sometimes Oskar’s grandfather’s blank book. Having three things juxtaposed like that should have confused me, but it didn’t once I figured out what was going on. The physical book became a record of the things that happened to Oskar and his grandparents, almost like a scrapbook with the storyline written into it. I thought all these apparent oddities added an incredibly rich and–pardon my pun–novel layer to the book.

I also thought, as many of you commented, that Foer’s handling of 9/11 was extremely adept. He took a very emotional, serious tragedy and made it personal while striking a fine balance between sorrow and hope and treating the entire thing in a respectful way. He also did so in a way that seems accessible for a wide spectrum of readers, which is rather impressive when you consider how different people’s experiences of tragedy can be.

Jenners posted a wonderful review in the form of a letter to the author, which discussed a related point. Here’s what she had to say:

“I think the fact that you used Oskar’s loss of his dad in the collapse of the Twin Towers and tied that to the losses that his grandparents experienced during the Dresden firebombing helped to make this book more about the nature of loss and grief than simply a ‘9/11 novel.’ People have been dying senselessly from acts of violence throughout the ages. It is catastrophic to the people left behind regardless of the scale of the violence or whether the violence was during a “sanctioned” war. Loss of all types eviscerates you and causes you to lose your way. By telling Oskar’s story and his grandparents stories concurrently, we come to feel and learn so much about the nature of loss, grief, regret and guilt of survivors. From Oskar’s search for the lock to his grandfather’s loss of words, I thought you made the desperation of grief tangible and vivid.”

This is part of why I love reading with other people. I didn’t even make the connection between the two tragedies. I love that different people pick up on different aspects of a book! I wonder if Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close works so well because it goes beyond 9/11, gives it something of a context. What do you think? Would it have worked as well had 9/11 been the sole focus?

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer (cover)Finally, I’d like to talk about Oskar. Several of you voiced concerns that Oskar didn’t seem like a particularly realistic character. And I kind of agree with you. But also, I loved him, and I thought he worked incredibly well in the story. I pondered this difference for a while, and I came up with a theory, which is this: perhaps there’s a difference between real and realistic. Realistic, in this context, means believable, true-to-life, accurate, all of that. Which, no, maybe Oskar isn’t 100% realistic. But I do think he’s real. By that I mean as a character, he wasn’t flat or false. Foer did an amazing job creating this little protagonist, so that I felt I knew him. I lived his story with him, rooted for him, was touched by him, even if I can’t quite imagine him existing in real life. As a more extreme example of this idea would be really good fantasy. One of my favorite YA novels is Graceling by Kristin Cashore. It’s set in a made-up world, full of characters who have impossible skills and unnatural appearances, yet when I’m reading it, that world and its inhabitants are as real to me as my own living room. Clearly Oskar isn’t as fantastical as all that, but maybe if he’s considered through the lens of real instead of realistic as defined above, he’ll come out more favorably. Thoughts?

It’s time I stop! If I let myself get into any more, I’ll get carried away and this post will never end. I’m curious, though, about two more things:

  1. Did you have a favorite touching moment? (Mine is a tie between the Morse code jewelry and the end, when Oskar finds out his mom got to talk to his dad, and that she had been helping him in his search all along.)
  2. Did you have a favorite quote? (Mine’s on page 153, of my edition, from the Mr. Black who shouts everything: “So many people enter and leave your life! Hundreds of thousands of people! You have to keep the door open so they can come in! But it also means you have to let them go!”)

Other participants’ posts:

Thoughts on “The Girl in the Garden” by Kamala Nair

I read The Girl in the Garden by Kamala Nair on my Sony Reader, thanks to NetGalley. It’s out tomorrow, June 15, from Grand Central Publishing.

About the Book:

Girl in the Garden by Kamala Nair (cover)Rakhee Singh is a young woman when, as The Girl in the Garden opens, she leaves her fiancé and engagement ring behind and sets off to mend her past. Left with the ring is a story: a summer from Rakhee’s childhood she’s kept hidden for years. It is this tale which unfurls in Nair’s debut novel.

As a child, Rakhee is happy enough living in Plainfield, Minnesota, with her parents and her dog, Merlin. But then her mother, Amma, begins receiving strange-looking letters all the way from her village in India, and Rakhee’s parents don’t seem so happy together anymore. When Amma announces she and Rakhee will spend the summer in Malanad, India, while Rakhee’s father, Aba, stays in Plainfield, Rakhee begins to worry.

In India there are adventures to have and cousins to play with, but there are also secrets and mysteries. The deeper Rakhee digs, the stranger the story becomes, until at last, she lays bare a tangled web kept hidden by those close to her for so long.

My Thoughts:

The Girl in the Garden is the sort of book that sucks you into its world. It wraps you up and entices you with its mystery, in much the same way India does to Rakhee. To read a chapter is to spend some time in distant place, absorbed in the tale that Rakhee unravels. It is a book for those who like to look up from their reading, gaze around, and think, Where am I?

Part of what I really enjoyed about The Girl in the Garden is that many of Rakhee’s initial impressions of India mirror my own. The words she learns are words I’ve learned; the food she’s served is food I, too, have enjoyed. But aside from that, Rakhee is an excellent narrator, trying to be good but also proud, struggling to find her path. I couldn’t help but take her side as she faced dilemmas and dug for the truth.

The Girl in the Garden has the feel of a fairytale, of something not quite real. For that reason, I struggled to believe it. The setting and characters are very real and imaginable, certainly. The story, though, seems just a tad too far-reaching to be possible. Yet Nair creates such a heavily entrancing atmosphere that at times I lost sight of my one criticism. For me, The Girl in the Garden worked the way Rapunzel or Sleeping Beauty does: lovely and enchanting and just beyond reality’s grasp. But realistic or not quite, the story of family and forgiveness that surrounds Rakhee’s summer in India and beyond is very satisfying.

Those are my thoughts. Check out The Girl in the Garden by Kamala Nair on GoodReads or LibraryThing, or read other bloggers’ reviews:

Did I miss your review? Please let me know!

Thoughts on “The Great Lenore” by JM Tohline

The Great Lenore by JM Tohline found its way to me via Atticus Books. It’s out this Wednesday, June 15!

About the Book:

Instead of the usual summary, I thought I’d share the first few lines of The Great Lenore from the ARC I read:

“When I met Lenore, she’d been dead for four days.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. She stood on the back patio with water dripping from her hair. She looked cold. ‘I feel awful for barging in like this, I hope I’m not being a bother. I couldn’t go next door, you know.’

‘I know,’ I said.

The Atlantic stretched out behind her like an angry black sheet. The rain chased itself into the water.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Here.” She held out her hand. ‘I’m Lenore.’

‘Lenore. Right.'” (p. 1; want to read more? The first seven pages are online!)

A few paragraphs later, the story rewinds to the beginning. Our narrator, Richard, has come to Nantucket for the winter in the hopes of getting some writing done. Instead, he finds himself drawn into the drama unfolding in the house next door.

My Thoughts:

The Great Lenore by J.M. Tohline (cover)First, I just have to say, isn’t that cover gorgeous?

The Great Lenore is a book I very much enjoyed. It had the feel of The Great Gatsby: a narrator finds himself tangled up in the affairs of a world of which he never intended to be a part. There are secrets, there is love and a legendary woman. Some dreams are grasped while others slip away. Yet The Great Lenore is also very much its own book, never more than subtly evoking a whiff of Fitzgerald’s classic. More often than Gatsby, Lenore took my breath away, sneaked up behind me and coolly turned what I thought I knew about the story on its head.

I loved the way Tohline handled time in The Great Lenore. He seems to be a master of the non-linear, moving between present and a multitude of pasts with admirable ease. Whether jumping ten minutes or ten years, Tohline has a way of taking the reader with him. Pieces pop into place with precise timing, past and present dance together, and always the reader knows where she is and with whom. It was a pleasure to read this novel in part because I never had to struggle to find my place.

Another thing Tohline does beautifully is to bring the ocean into the tale. It is a constant presence, a character in its own right, always changing, always magnificent, and a constant reminder of the eternity before which human dramas play out. Hardly a scene goes by without a mention of that steadfast sea, yet the effect is far from tiresome. Rather, Tohline quite accurately captures the feeling of staying by the ocean: every time you’re near it, you notice its condition, its appearance, its mood. It becomes a part of your existence, just as it does for Tohline’s characters.

The Great Lenore is perfect when you want to get absorbed in a book. It doesn’t so much take you away as take you into itself. It will tell you a story while keeping you guessing and making you think. I would absolutely recommend it.

Those are my thoughts. Check out The Great Lenore by JM Tohline on GoodReads or LibraryThing, or read other bloggers’ reviews:

Did I miss your review? Please let me know!

Sunday Salon: Looking Back on May

A week and a half into June and I haven’t done my May wrap-up! Seems as good a topic for Sunday Salon as any. It was a slower month for me, with a trip home and the start of summer semester. Here’s what my May looked like:

Books

Looking Back: May

Total books read: 5
Total pages read: 1,290
Favorite book: The Great Lenore by JM Tohline, as well as reading and watching Angels in America by Tony Kushner
Least favorite book: Bel Canto by Ann Patchett

Audiobooks

Total audiobooks listened to: 3
Total hours listened: 21 hours, 46 minutes
Favorite audiobook: Annie on My Mind by Nancy Garden
Least favorite audiobook: Bodily Harm by Margaret Atwood

Miscellaneous and Sundry

Today, my husband and I are going to try to go strawberry picking! I love pick-your-own fruit, and strawberries always kick off the season. After that, it’s back to the schoolwork for me.

Your Turn!

That was my May. How was yours? What are you up to today?

Reading Buddies Discussion: “Cutting for Stone” by Abraham Verghese

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Welcome, Cutting for Stone reading buddies! As usual, if you haven’t read Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese and plan to, you might want to skip this post and its comments, as spoilers are fair game.

So far I’ve read through part 2, page 223 in my paperback copy. I was told on several occasions that the first 200 pages–essentially, the twins’ birth–was slower and that the book picked up from then on. I’m looking forward to getting into the “exciting” part! I wasn’t at all bored by the first two parts, so I’m expecting to love the remainder.

I’m really enjoying Cutting for Stone so far. It’s a book I’ve been meaning to read since it first came out, and–as usual!–I’m wondering why on earth I waited so long. I like Verghese’s writing as well as the characters he’s introduced. Hema and Ghosh make me smile, and I very much admire Matron. (The scene where she takes the sponsor from Texas through the hospital? So good.) I also appreciate how Verghese peppers the novel with bits of medical information without sounding overly technical or overwhelming the story. Since most of the characters we’ve met practice medicine in some capacity, it makes sense for them to be comfortable with procedures and knowledge in a way that with ordinary characters would seem false. I’m sure Verghese’s own medical background allows him to pass this comfort level on to his characters. (Did you know he also grew up near Addis Ababa?)

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese (cover)I also think Verghese does a nice job with tangents. A character will be doing something relevant to the shared storyline, and Verghese will take him or her off on a little trip to the past or a memory, or off after a thought or whim, in a way that lets the reader learn a lot about the characters. I’ve read books before where this technique is jarring or confusing, but not so here.

I’ll admit, at the beginning it unsettled me a bit to have Marion narrating. He hadn’t even been born when the events in question occurred, yet he seemed privy to the innermost thoughts and feelings of those present at Missing on the day of his birth. I noticed that toward the end of Part 2, the constant use of “I” fell away and the twins were more frequently referred to in the third person, a shift of which I was glad. I know I won’t mind Marion narrating when we get to what he might actually remember, but in these initial pages, it didn’t work for me. Did it bother you at all?

I’m also curious: why do you think so much time is spent on the twins’ birth and first year? 200 pages–nearly a third of the novel–seems like a disproportionate chunk to devote to a span of less than a year. Perhaps we’ll find out why further into the novel?

In closing, I found this passage to be especially lovely. Have any lines stuck with you so far?

“As she bent over the child she realized that the tragedy of death had to do entirely with what was left unfulfilled. She was ashamed that such a simple insight should have eluded her all these years. Make something beautiful of your life.” (p. 64)