A review by rotefrida
Here I Am by Jonathan Safran Foer

challenging emotional reflective slow-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? Character
  • Strong character development? No
  • Loveable characters? It's complicated
  • Diverse cast of characters? Yes
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.0

onathan Safran Foer is my favourite author, so I am kind of biased when it comes to writing about his writing. I can't say "Here I am" is his best book, in fact, it's his weakest. I still really, really liked it, mostly because I adore his style. I adore how he manages to dissect emotions all of us experience into their cruel simplicity through poetic, painful observations. His characters are either honest or their dishonesty is revealed by the narrator who is omniscent, anticipating the catastrophe. Foer's strength lies not in story-telling, it lies in the reasons behind the stories, it lies in seeing connections, seeing the universality of personal pain, seemingly small "endings", connecting to bigger events and concepts. I still can't say I understood it, and the attempted parallel of the destruction of a family next to the destruction of Israel seemed forced at first. What I really do not understand is that many critics claim the book is "extremely funny". Sure, in every humoristic situation, in every joke, there is profound sadness, and humour cannot be without sadness, but still, "funny" is not the first word that comes to mind thinking about Here I Am. The first word that comes to mind is cruelty, and love, and pain. The complexity of Jewish identity, rooted in perseverance, rooted in the experience of pain and the desire to overcome it. Sam's ruined bar mitzvah, his reluctance to have it. He's the one to question Jewish identity the most, and also the one to question the stability of his family, and also the one to expect his parents' divorce. Sometimes it almost seems like he's the one pushing it forward, sowing doubts in his parents' minds. Sam - almost too intelligent to be a realistic 12-year old, still, fascinating and true, and beautiful. He's also the one that, through his failed bar mitzvah, manages to bring Jacob closer to his Jewish identity, and to his Israeli cousin (btw, did anyone else notice some pretty heavy sexual tension between these two?). Jacob, utterly in love with Julia, his impressive, almost coldly cruel wife, who is disgusted by his inability to fuck another woman. Jacob, who tries to be more than he is. Jacob, whose only true friend is his dog Argus, and who seems to have the same social status in the family as the dog. Jacob was my favourite character, because he was the most fleshed out and authentic and vulnerable of them all, and also, because he's the one you feel sorry for because he's lost whatever he thought was dear to him, because he's a pathetic lover, unable to unlove (maybe repressed bisexuality at play, given that the only person who makes him feel okay is his cousin Tamir). Tamir represents everything he can't be. The illusion of Israel as his homeland (which he rejects at the beginning) seems to be Jacob's artificial chance at becoming something better, something significant, someone who fights in a war for something he believes in. He doesn't realize until the end that he's fighting to keep his family alive, the only thing he allows himself to exist for. He's the one not getting over Julia after years, he's the one that after letting his dog go, can let his dog self go, can let himself die and be reborn. After the Israel situation begins, the whole book turns into a book about Jacob, which makes me wonder sometimes why the children take up so much space, as their stories are cute, but not heartbreaking as his. All in all, a very recommendbale book, but not necessarily if you like stories with easily followable storylines and dislike heavily artistically embellished, sometimes over-the-top, but still extremely touching philosophical essays about what human beings are about. Jonathan Safran Foer writes highly artificially, because he tackles politics and personal life and so much more - but he still manages to find the personal tragedy behind each of these great concepts, in each of his characters. One could argue, and maybe should, in this case, that his plan did not end well. That he wanted too much. You cannot turn every subject into poetry in a NOVEL. There are lots of open questions left. Still, does not even reach the genius of "Everything is illuminated" or "Extremely loud and incredibly close". (another thing I wondered: While I thought that the character of Oscar in Extremely loud and incredibly close was intentionally written as an autistic character, I now start to wonder if this is just the way Foer writes children, as if he's not able to take another perspective. Still, I enjoyed these characters, even if they may not appear relatable. He lets children know more than adults know, and I find that charming. Also, he seems to be really focused on men. The only fully present female character is Julia, his wife, who we see mostly through Jacob's perspective of extremely fragile, threatened masculinity, which is threatened by Julia a) being stronger, b) not taking her husband's shit, c) being eager to hurt him if necessary. )