Since I started my new job, I haven't had a lot of time to read, although I've made a point of reading whenever I can. I tried to make my way through my normal (read modern-esque British) slog, but it just wasn't working. One day I was in Chapters and I saw a copy of
Everything is Illuminated by
Jonathan Safran Foer. I have been waiting to get the rotating copy that all my friends are reading for so long that it almost made sense to save myself the frustration and buy it myself. (Did you hear that Kris? Don't stress yourself about getting it read by this weekend. Like you'd give it up before you were ready...) So I read a book.
When I mentioned that I was reading at work, everyone (well everyone who listens to the overopinionated newbie...) was shocked that I had any time to read, and that I even bothered to try. "Why don't you just read over the summer?" When did reading become so second-rate in out society? This is a room full of teachers, who, in theory, are trying to instill a love of reading and learning in small children, and they think that reading is something that can wait for vacations and sick days? No wonder the students don't see the point of what we teach them. We try to teach all this math, language, history, geography, science...and the kids realize that there's no point in learning anything that they aren't going to use for their everyday life and their job. They realize that they need to read well enough to get through a newspaper and office memos, but no one teaches children anymore to read so they can learn to have a true appreciation of Dickens and Thackeray. Learning isn't valued in our society anymore for the sake of being learned. As the children reflect, the only value we place on knowledge is how far it can get us; there's a far higher value placed on 'street smarts' and 'intuitive knowledge'.
It pisses me off, but I don't know what to do about it.
Regardless of that, about the book: as a general rule, I don't like books where I feel like I missed the greater point. I don't think that I didn't get this book, but I really was expecting more of an emotional thump out of it because of
the way that others spoke of it. True, it's one of the better examples of Holocaust fiction that I've read, I just couldn't get as excited about it as Nes did. I was expecting more about the 'illumination' and a little less about the sexual proclivities of Sammy Davis Junior, Junior. While there was a point to the humour, and much of it was necessary to the development of the novel, I couldn't get past some of the stupidity of it for the real core of the novel. Don't get me wrong, I like the book, and I am going to get around to recommending it, but I had trouble with it. Maybe I'm a little secretly angry because I really don't like feeling stupid, but I don't think that the author is good enough to have the film rights to his next novel be bought before the book is even published!
What does the novel do? I agree that the real nature of revelation lies within Alex and Alex. If I didn't find the portrayal a little to earnest to harbour sarcasm, I'd say that the character of Jonathan exists to show how divided the Americanized descendants of tragedy are from their ancestors who actually experienced it. I can't tell. If the author is really taking potshots at people who travel back to the 'old country' to find their roots, then he's better than I give him credit for. But I found the criticism a little too subtle to be intentional - I think I'm reading into it. But if I learned one thing in my undergrad, it's that the reader's interpretation is as valid, if not more so, than what the author intended! So if I find that the unwritten social commentary destabilizes the narrative of the intended author and makes him the antihero of his own tale, then I've got all the right, if I can prove it. I digress.
The story of Alex and Alex, and how each one grows to accept the situation of his life with honour and pride is one that I truly enjoy. The story of the descendents of Trachimbrod and their ... misadventures is both riotous and heartrending. I could just do without the self-important, overly self-aware self-authoring of Jonathan Safran Foer. He's pretentious. If the author meant for him to seem that way, I think the author is brilliant. But naming a character after yourself and then making him unlikeable is a sure way to make yourself as an author seem stupid and narcissistic.
I can't wait to debate this one with Nes!
