Amanda6′s #CBR4 Review 22: Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer
Plot summaries are the most boring part of writing these reviews, so is it okay if I cheat a little and just ask Wikipedia? Please guys? (Just say yes…)
“Jonathan Safran Foer, a young American Jew, journeys to Ukraine in search of Augustine, the woman who saved his grandfather’s life during the Nazi liquidation of Trachimbrod, his family shtetl… Jonathan begins his adventure with Ukrainian native and soon-to-be good friend, Alexander “Alex” Perchov, who is Foer’s age and very fond of American pop culture, albeit culture that is already out of date in the United States. Alex studied English at his university, and even though his knowledge of the language is not “first-rate”, he becomes the translator. Alex’s “blind” grandfather and his “deranged seeing-eye bitch,” Sammy Davis, Jr., Jr., accompany them on their journey. Throughout the book, the meaning of love is deeply examined.”
Okay, thanks for letting me do that. Anyway, the first thing I want to get out of the way is that yes, JSF’s writing is pretty damn precious. Half of the novel is written from Alex’s point of view, and his broken English is utilized as a main motif to comedic effect: “seeing-eye bitch,” “masticated her tail,” “It was very rigid to understand,” etc. It worked, and it was funny, but these sections at times come across not so much as a means to further the story, as they are a humorous academic exercise in thesaurus abuse. By which I mean: literary dick-measuring. Even considering this bit of pretentiousness, though, these sections are pretty funny — both for the language gymnastics and for some of Alex’s editorialized translations to the American tourist.
The other parts of the story, interwoven in parallel, are meant to be excerpts from the Jonathan Safran Foer character’s novel, an imagined and fictionalized version of the history of Trachimbrod (stand-in for Trochenbrod,) the shtetl where his ancestors originated from in the Ukraine. These sections are written with a heavy hat-tip to Gabriel García Márquez, but they are really lovely. The residents of the shtetl really come to life through Foer’s imagination, and they get their share of humor, too.
The historical setting of WWII naturally means there will be some tragedy, and some really tough, heart-wrenching sections. There is, allegedly, a bit of controversy around Foer’s depiction of the Nazi liquidation of Trachimbrod/Trochenbrod; my feeling (as a non-historian) is that this is pretty clearly fiction, and as Foer took the liberty of re-naming and reconstructing the town, I didn’t have any issues with his presentation.
Reading this, I instantly began comparing it to Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, which I also reviewed but didn’t like that much. The precious writing is present in both in spades, but the characters in Everything is Illuminated were not quite as too-advanced-for-their-own-good — a characteristic I found very grating in the former. As book-reading types, many Cannonballers will probably have picked this one up already, but if you haven’t, I’d definitely recommend it as worth reading.
I always just use the blurb from the back of the book at the start of my reviews!
I had the exact opposite reaction. The story within a story felt like literary dick measuring to me, and the parts narrated with Alex’s mangled voice (which eventually sort of transforms from ridiculous to sad, if I’m remembering correctly) were the only parts I really enjoyed. Anyway, I totally agree with your larger point that a lot of Foer’s writing is very consciously “smart,” and he sacrifices some stuff in the service of cleverness, I think. Worth reading once, but I’m not going to read it again.
In a way, I agree with you — the non-Alex sections were also very consciously smart, as you say. I think what made the Alex sections stand out to me a bit more was that I literally felt the deliberation every time Alex substituted the “right” word for his thesaurus word, in that in order to understand him, I had to stop and think “Okay, synonyms for this…” Though it was funny, and laugh-out-loud funny sometimes, it was very practiced. As much as I was paying attention to Alex, I was also paying attention to Jonathan Safran Foer sitting there writing and thinking “Okay, what word would be funny here?” And yes, Alex’s parts did become more serious toward the end, as both parts converged on the eventual tragedies.
The “memoir” parts were absolutely pretentious in their own way, but they were a bit more fluid and less measured to me as a reader. I hate to say this because it always sounds patronizing, but I think when Foer matures a bit more he’ll tone down some of the seemingly forced cleverness.
Thanks for the comment! Got me thinking again
It’s funny how much personal taste can play into stuff like this. Everything you said about Foer sitting there and deliberately choosing words and the feeling it gave you is how the other section made me feel. I think I just appreciated the whimsy of the Alex chapters due to my own taste preference for silly things over “serious” things — I tend to read overly serious stuff as pretentious anyway, unless it’s been cut with something else, i.e. genre (like China Mieville or ) or humor (like Foer).
And I agree with you about the “chosen” feeling of Alex’s words, I guess I just interpreted it as Alex doing the choosing and not Foer — Alex’s voice was so strong to me that it made it very easy for me to suspend my disbelief. Again, personal preference, but we’re having the same basic reaction to an author, so I think we’re both on the right track.
I haven’t read Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close yet, largely because of my reaction to this book, and I’m curious to hear why you didn’t really like it (what does “too advanced for their own good mean?”). Did you review it for Cannonball?
I was just pondering your comment some more and something else occurred to me. Another reason I think I had a better time with the Alex sections than you is that I’m really good at word association games and such, so the flow of reading was never interrupted for me when an “Alex word” would appear, but now that you point that out, I can see how if that’s not your thing, it would be incredibly distracting.
Just realized that comment sounded kind of patronizing. I didn’t mean it to be!
I can’t nest anymore so I’m re-replying to this one — basically, I’m with you completely, in that we did have the same reaction but different triggers. The “too advanced” problem I mentioned in Extremely Loud basically has to do with the idea that Foer wrote his 10-year-old protagonist with the intelligence of someone pursuing an advanced degree. It’s my very first cannonball review if you want to check out what I said at the time, but my memory of it now is that the prose itself isn’t quite as forced on the whole, but the character himself is a little obnoxious and has his own set of Foer-esque quirks — one I remember in particular is that he describes being sad as having “heavy boots.” Essentially, it’s just Foer is trying to force this character as a socially awkward “wise beyond his years” kid who talks, thinks, and acts like an adult. It’s not like Foer is the first to do this, but it’s a cliche I tire of, and he didn’t really put a fresh spin on it.
It’s been a while since I’ve read this so I don’t have much to add about the actual book, but I totally agree that we all just start using Wikipedia to write our summaries.
Ditto. Book summarizing is the WORST.
Ah, I’m so glad. I was worried I was going to be cast out or something for my Wikipedia use!!