105. EXTREMELY LOUD & INCREDIBLY CLOSE

Jonathan Safran Foer 2005

I reread this book, and this time around, my boots feel heavier. If you have read the book, and you loved it, you know what I mean. A tender, melancholic and very visual story of Oskar Schell, a nine year old boy who lost his father Thomas during the September 11 tragedy. A series of phone messages left by his father before he died haunts his heart as he goes through mourning even as his mother and paternal grandmother tries hard to help him cope. One night, as he explores his parent's room, he finds a key and decides to find the lock it opens. As he explores Manhattan and meets new people, the mystery of the key and the heart-tugging story of his paternal grandparents also unravel.

'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.'(opening lines)

'I loved having a Dad who was smarter than the New York Times, and I loved how my cheek could feel the hairs on his chest through his T-shirt, and how he always smelled like shaving, even at the end of the day. Being with him made my brain quiet. I didn't have to invent a thing.'(12)

'The average person falls asleep in seven minutes, but I couldn't sleep, not after hours, and it made my boots lighter to be around his things, and to touch stuff that he had touched...'(36)

'I couldn't explain to her that I missed him more, more than she or anyone else missed him, because I couldn't tell her about what happened with the phone. That secret was a hole in the middle of me that every happy thing fell into.'(71)

'I sit on the side with a coffee and write in my daybook, I examine the flight schedules that I've already memorized, I observe, I write, I try not to remember, being here fills my heart with so much joy, even if the joy isn't mine, and at the end of the day I fill the suitcase with old news.'(109)

'I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone. I wondered, for the first time in my life, if life was worth all the work it took to live. What exactly made it worth it? (145)

"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!"(153)

'He said, "This is my biographical index!" "Your what?" "I started it when I was just beginning to write! I'd create a card for everyone I though I might need to reference one day! There's a card for everyone I ever wrote about! And cards for people I talked to in the course of writing my pieces! And cards for people I read books about! And cards for people in the footnotes of those books!"'(157)

"Dad didn't have a spirit! He had cells!" "His memory is there." His memory is here," I said, pointing at my head. "Dad had a spirit," she said, like she was rewinding a bit in our conversation. I told her, "He had cells, and now they're on rooftops, and in the river, and in the lungs of millions of people around New York, who breathe him every time they speak!"(169)

'You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself form happiness.'(180)

'It's the tragedy of loving, you can't love anything more than something you miss.'(208)

"Once upon a time, New York City had a sixth borough." "What's a borough?" "That's what I call an interruption." "I know, but the story won't make any sense to me if I don't know what a borough is." "It's like a neighborhood. Or a collection of neighborhoods."(217)

'When I looked at you, my life made sense. Even the bad things made sense. They were necessary to make you possible.'(232)

'... I tried to learn about him as he tried to learn about you, he was trying to find you, just as you'd tried to find me, it broke my heart into pieces than my heart was made of, why can't people say what they mean at the time? '(279)

'It's so beautiful at this hour. The sun is low, the shadows are long, the air is cold and clean. You won't be awake for another five hours, but I can't help feeling that we're sharing this clear and beautiful morning.'(305)

A signed First Edition
326 pages
Book owned by JRMD