Cannonball Read #2: Everything is Illuminated, by Jonathan Safron Foer

Distraction can prove to be such a cruel bitch while I'm reading a novel. I'm a pretty fast reader, but I go through periods where almost anything can keep me from turning the page...people-watching on the trolley, current anxieties, imagining what life would be like as a piece of fruit (for the record? DELICIOUS). It took me a month to get through this one, despite my enjoyment...but I found myself actually distracted by the story itself. I couldn't stop imagining Foer's writing process. What made him name a character after himself, how did he get into the mind of Alex so well, did he research life in shtetls, etc etc. Foer has a knack for diving head first into his characterizations with a self assurance and buoyancy that is admirable in a writer so young. I read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close a few months ago and was blown away by little Oscar and his heavy boots, so I was more than thrilled to finally read this, his debut novel.

Alex Perchov is a young Ukrainian translator hired by Jonathan Safron Foer to assist him in his journey to find the woman who saved his grandfather from the Nazis. Searching the desolate regions of the country for a place called Trachimbrod, they're accompanied by Perchov's grandfather, an old man tortured by his personal experiences of the war and the loss of his wife, and Sammy Davis Jr Jr, their equally beloved and reviled vodka drinking dog. The book is a story within a story within a story, but Foer manages to avoid alienating his readers by writing with a fluidity that effectively binds the different narratives.

The journey of the four travellers is recounted by Alex, while the rest of the book is written as excerpts of Jonathan's novel that conveys the life of his ancestors in the small shtetl. Tying these together are Alex's letters to Jonathan that act as a sort of Greek chorus, commenting and sometimes reproaching him for his writing style. Alex is a desperate-to-be-loved young man whose dialogue is a hilarious and often affecting mix of broken English and malapropisms. He was undeniably my favorite character; his honesty (which often bordered on lack of modesty) is punctuated with a sense of humor and an unfortunate grasp of the language that provides the novel's funniest moments. Declarations such as:

"If you want to know why so many girls want to be with me, it is because I am a very premium person to be with. I am homely, and also severely funny, and these are winning things. "

and

"I am unequivocally tall. I do not know any women who are taller than me. The women I know who are taller than me are lesbians, for whom 1969 was a very momentous year. "

had me choking with laughter on the subway. What was greatest about Alex is that through his letters you can witness him growing...as his language improves his innocence wears away. Best of all is his personal investment in the story of both Jonathan's great-great-I-forget-how-many-greats Grandmother Brod and his Grandfather Safran. It gives the book its heart and nearly echoed my own feelings toward the story. Everything is Illuminated is so rich with colorful characters and written with such grace and poetry that I was moved to tears more than once. Extremely Loud is still my favorite, but this book cements my belief that Foer is one of the most talented and exciting authors in recent memory. I can not wait to see what he does next.

Tomorrow

Go Phils.

That is all.

Cannonball Read #1: Heart-Shaped Box, by Joe Hill

It's a testament to Joe Hill's talent that within a chapter or two I stopped comparing his debut novel to some of my favorites written by his father, Stephen King. There are definite similarities to their writing...slow pacing that eventually leads to a thunderous climax (as all good things should), a proclivity towards tossing out (sometimes gratuitous) pop culture references, thoughtful descriptions of even the slightest of characters. But all of this gets lost once you're deeply invested in the story; one which, once I read the slight blurb on the jacket, I was immediately wary.

Judas Coyne is an aging musician, a guitar god ghoulishly similar to Ozzy Osbourne without all the batshit-crazy bat-snacking battiness. He has an obsession with collecting the grotesque, a long list that includes such items as a snuff film, a hangman's noose, and probably my fifth grade picture. Early on his assistant receives an email that offers a one-of-a-kind, catch-it-or-you'll-regret it, oh-you're-really-going-to-regret-it, dance-puppet-DANCE! type of deal. For only $1,000 Jude can buy a ghost, a ghost who is forever linked to the suit he died in. That's right. The fundamental plot of this story is some rock star buys a ghost off the fucking internet.

Except that's only the beginning. From the moment the suit arrives in the mail Hill creates not only an atmosphere of dread but an unwavering sense of urgency. The ghost is tied to someone from Jude's past, and he is looking for the worst kind of revenge. He's not only going to murder his ass, he's going to separate him from everyone who cares about him, most notably his current girlfriend Marybeth. Death is scary, but isolation is unfathomable. What's so fascinating about this book is that the ghost becomes not just the central villain, but the catalyst for changing Jude's entire outlook on his career, his relationships, on the way he handles his guilt. There's an emotional current throughout the novel that sets it apart from your typical ghost story. Empathy is hard to find when you view the protagonists with loathing, or worse yet indifference. Marybeth could have been another derivative version of a young groupie tied to a successful musician...she's a former stripper, she's goth, she's immature. And yet Hill manages to paint her with so much depth and consideration that I found myself completely infatuated.

I won't go into any more of the plot, except to say that this book in no way turned out to be the chain rattling ghost story I expected. The author dedicated his book to his father, whom he declares to be "one of the good ones." I think that Hill is on his way to be one as well.

I can't believe I've only read one god-damned book so far.

God DAMN IT

I have to have a blog now? Fuck. Me. Upside down.

Yet I couldn't resist the lure of a reading contest, one that I am sorely losing. Bring it bitches, English Major Julie is coming at you swinging her unabridged collected works of Shakespeare.