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Amazon.co.uk Review
If all this sounds a little daunting don't be put off; Safran Foer is an extremely funny as well as intelligent writer. Admittedly he has an annoying habit of capitalising great chunks of text, but minor typographical nuances are easy to ignore in a book that combines some of the best Jewish folk yarns since Isaac Bashevis Singer with a quite heartbreaking meditation on love, friendship and loss. --Travis Elborough --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
New Statesman
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Customer Reviews
Jonathan is an American Jew who travels to the Ukraine in search of his family history. His sections of the story are a novel he is writing about his family in Ukraine from the 18th century up until 1942. These sections are strange and a little disjointed, and rather surreal - think Garcia Marquez or Rushdie. I found these sections harder to read and sometimes annoying as I felt they distracted attention from the 'real' story.
The other narrator is Alex, a Ukrainian youth who acts as Jonathan's translator and guide. Alex dreams of emigrating to America and escaping his unhappy family life. Alex's sections consist of letters he writes to Jonathan after the latter has returned home, and of the story of their trip together in search of Jonathan's past. These are written in a rather amusing broken English. A device that elsewhere I often find annoying and hard to read is here used to great comic and narrative effect. I found it readable and it added humour to what is ultimately a rather bleak story.
The humourous nature of Alex's earlier sections lull the reader into a false sense of security. The story unfolds to tell of the horrors committed in Ukraine by the Nazis, affecting both Jews and non-Jews. As the tale progresses the humour becomes lesser and the contrast between the amusing early chapters and the later ones heightens the emotional impact of the ending.
Overall, 'Everything is Illuminated' is refreshingly different and ambitious. Although it doesn't always come off perfectly, it is always good to read a book where the writer tries to innovate. I enjoyed the sections narrated by Alex and found these both moving and amusing. The only downside is the habit of writing dialogue continuously, rather than breaking up into new paragraphs for each speaker. This makes it at times harder to follow and I got confused between who was saying what. The sections narrated by Jonathan I found less enjoyable and I skimmed through them to get the next 'Alex' section. However, those who enjoy magical realism and surrealist writers may well enjoy these more.
On the whole, I would certainly recommend this to anyone who likes surrealist writing and anyone who likes to try original, innovative books. It is well written and although not always a particularly easy read, I would certainly try another by the same author.
This novel I picked up with out any preconceptions, and without anything to colour my interpretations. But there was a lot of praise printed in and on the covers, and Elijah Wood looked out at me from front image, so as I started I anticipated an interesting read, worthy of not scant praise, and a film interpretation, and that it was, in places.
I'll be honest when I say that by the end I was willing it to finish. I was tired of Safran Foer's typographic gymnastics, and the rambling narrative. There are moments of cutting poignancy, and occasions when I was charmed by the clever prose. But the charm of the character Alex's broken English wears off - it just becomes labourious, a critisicm that could be levied against the whole book. Safran Foer seems to take great pleasure in twisting up syntax and grammar, idiom, turn of phrase, and turning it on its head. Sometimes his sentences are so inward looking they seem palindromic. You read it and think, 'Well that's a smart bit of linguistic contortion, but I hate you for putting my through it, page after page, chapter after chapter'. By the end of this book, I was blinded from the posthumously evident sadness and power of the narrative because of the tortuous language use. Don't get me wrong, I'm no prescriptivist when it comes to language use, but I get the feeling with this book that Safran Foer isn't playing with language for the good of the story, but for his own cryptic pleasure.
So this morning I finished the book, and I sighed with relief. I think this author is a brave one, and perhaps greatness will follow, but this was not a masterwork.
Not necessarily in the consecutive order of the novel, (which may not have a consecutive order), but in the order it most makes sense for my review, here is my summary:
One narrative is penned by a young writer coincidently named Jonathan Safran Foer. He takes the reader back to the 18th century and the early days of Trachimbrod, the shtetl town of his ancestors. The magically realistic fictional account, (reminds me of a Jewish Garcia Marquez), begins in 1791 and ends with the Nazi's entry into this tiny Ukrainian village. Some of the book's most poignant passages describe the impact of the Holocaust on survivors' memory. "Men set up flow charts, (which were themselves memories of family trees), in an attempt to make sense of their memories." "Women had it worse. Unable to share their tinglings of memory in the synagogue or at the workplace, they were forced to suffer over laundry piles and baking pans, alone." "But children had it worst of all, for although it would seem that they had fewer memories to haunt them, they still had the itch of memory as strong as the elders of the shtetl.
Alex Perchov, 21st century Ukrainian Heritage Tour guide and translator, narrates another part of the story. Perchov lives in the former Soviet republic and has vivid dreams of "transplanting" himself and his "premium" younger brother, Little Igor, to America. He loves American culture. "I dig Negroes, particularly Michael Jackson. I dig to disseminate very much currency at famous nightclubs in Odessa." When prospective author Foer makes a journey to the Ukraine in order to find an elderly woman called Augustine, (if she still lives), he hires Alex as his translator and companion through the cultural minefield that is the Ukrainian countryside. Augustine was/is originally from the small village of Trachimbrod and helped his grandfather escape from the Nazis long ago. Armed with his grandfather's memories plus some well worn photographs, Jonathan, Alex, Alex's unhappy grandfather who acts as chauffeur, and Alex's bizarre dog Sammy Davis Junior, Jr., (named for Grandfather's "beloved singer"), begin their quest.
Part three of this saga is told through a series of letters Alex writes to Jonathan after the trip has concluded. I must say that I have never read, or heard, anyone bludgeon the English language quite like Perchov does, thanks to his misuse of the English Thesaurus. Some of the novel's funniest moments are caused by Alex's communiques, which sound like direct translations from very the formal Russian to pop-cultured English. In these letters Alex, who now fancies himself a novelist, trades manuscripts with Jonathan for the purposes of mutual editing and commentary.
The three stories converge when they arrive at 1940's Trachimbrod and the tragic man-made disaster which wiped-out Jewish villages and populations all over Europe. The revelations made here are as extraordinary as the tales themselves.
I enjoyed sections of "Everything Is Illuminated," although I found some parts to be extremely tedious. I have read and listened to so many folkloric, Tevya-type stories of life in the shtetl, including my own family's, that it is difficult to come up with a version that would hold my interest. I have been to Mr. Foer's Trachimbrod, or in the neighborhood, untold times. On the other hand, Alex is a gem of a character. And, although at times his statements sound like something one would hear in a high school locker room, Alexander Perchov is an original who is well worth meeting. Also, as I wrote above, there are some absolutely poignant, haunting passages, beautifully written, that caused my eyes to tear more than a few times.
Jonathan Safran Foer has matured tremendously as a writer since he wrote this - I believe it was while he was an undergraduate. I recently read "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close," (his latest offering), and it is evident that he has grown in his craft. I do recommend this, Foer's first novel, despite its length, and occasional ramblings, because he says so much that is worthwhile and in such a wonderful way. Just be prepared for rough spots. (So, 4 Stars with a qualifier).
JANA
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