In Memoriam

It is a huge coincidence, I believe, that I began re-reading Jonathan Safran Foer's Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close at midnight last night - September 11th, 2008. To those (unfortunate people) who have not read the book, it's about 9-year-old Oskar Schell, whose father died in the 9/11 terrorist attacks. His father leaves behind several clues that send Oskar on a scavenger hunt of sorts throughout New York City, and in the process he meets different people who have survived tragedies of their own.

I think it's the most humane of all the books I've read, and it really gets you to think. One of my favorite passages talks about how life...in itself is a burning building. Once you're born, it's all downhill from there. You're slowly dying every single minute.

It's the most truthful of all the books I've read as well. Since it's written in a 9-year-old's point of view, the straightforward comments are abundant, and Oskar completely disregards political correctness. 

What's taboo in society is talked about as well. For me, death is an extremely sensitive topic, but Foer just delves right into its heart - its truths, its myths, and its very real effects on the living. Despite this seeming complexity, Foer actually succeeds in simplifying death.

On the way to Oskar's father's funeral, he comments on the limousine that they're riding in: '"Now that I'm thinking about it...they could make an incredibly long limousine that had its back seat at your mom's VJ and its front seat at your mausoleum, and it would be as long as your life.'" 

Isn't this incredible simplicity horrifying? To sum up life like that...it makes you realize that the petty things that we care about don't really matter in the greater scheme of things.