One chapter down in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and my tear ducts are already exhausted.
I blame it on Mr. Jonathan Foer's novel. Oskar Schell is a 9 year boy (and among other things, an entomology enthusiast, Francophile, detective-in-training, jeweler, tambourine percussionist, vegan, and collector of keys), who takes the reader on an unimaginable journey after the death of his father. Thomas Schell died on 9/11, and as the Twin Towers collapsed, so did Oskar's life. After finding a key that might reveal his dad's last message, Oskar begins a search for healing.
Embedded in this linguistic metaphor are two extremely incredible characters (See what I did there?) If there was to be a superlative for the "Most unrealistically captivating person" person, Oskar would reign as the champion. His endearing personality has been, arguably, the best part of the book so far. Yup, all 16 pages. (Hey, I'm no Usain Bolt when it comes to reading.) Here's one example of his charming wit:
"What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls?...You could hear everyone's heartbeat...The finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon would sound like war."
After reading just one narrated paragraph, I felt like I'd stumbled into the Encyclopedia and got trampled over by giraffes on the way out. No, more like 2 ton wildebeests. His character's voice is so...overwhelming that it works in the book's favor. Oskar divulges his raisins d'être, blathers about limos, and prattles on about crystal chandeliers, all in one sentence. However, his river of thoughts eventually trickle down into a dam built out of grief and sorrow. When Oskar reminisces the Worst Day, he wears "heavy boots", gets anxious about skyscrapers, and makes philosophical statements like these:
“I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live.”
(Pretty deep for a 9 year old, huh? Someone call Socrates.)
“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.”
Clearly, this kid is a genius. His witty comments and thoughtful sentiments somehow reduce me to a puddle of laughs and tears. Even though I've only read approximately 8396 words (eh, rough estimate), I can already hear Oskar's voice loud and clear, even I'm not even close to finishing. (I'm way to good at this.) His blunt, yet sweet memories of his loving father was enough to make me think of someone I know- my own Dad.
In a way, I feel that one of the most rewarding experiences form reading realistic fiction is being able to see the world from the eyes of another human being. Okay, maybe 9 year old prodigies aren't so much of the "norm", and yeah, its pretty hard to relate to conjugating French verbs, but... its the same shared feeling that connects us. *Cue the dramatic music.* The loss of a family member, the feeling of emptiness, the search for a new beginning- these are real. Everyone has days when they wear their heavy boots.
So, as I continue to shuffle through the following chapters (at a turtle's pace, nonetheless), I will definitely look forward to reading both Oskar and his dad's stories. And hopefully, I will finish the book with a wiser cranium, a stronger heart, and lighter boots.
