There is something to be said for knowing one's limitations, a lesson that was clearly lost on Jonathan Safran Foer. Foer attempts to be part J.D. Salinger (alienated quest), part William Faulkner (conflict with environment), and part E.L. Doctorow (hybridized novel), but does not have the literary chops to do the job on any count.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is the story of a young boy named Oskar whose father is killed in the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. His mother, disconnected and detatched, finds another man, but Oskar and his grandparents, who live across the street, are having a more difficult time coping with the death of their father and son, respectively. Oskar's grandparents are additionally haunted by their personal tragedy because the September 11th attacks remind them of the firebombing of Dresden during World War II. Foer attempts, however unsuccessfully, to parallel these two narratives and the separated generations that experienced them.

Oskar is a unique child--he speaks many languages, makes friends with everyone he speaks with, and fashions jewelery. If one was unaware of Oskar's many talents, he would be happy to give them a business card. After finding a key left behind by his father, Oskar seeks to find what that key opens. This quest takes him around New York, a la Salinger's Holden, in a quest for self. These quests provide the reader with some emotional and enlightening experiences and scenes, but the poorly-executed allegory makes the journey mostly trite and overly moralistic. Neither Oskar nor Foer have the style to be Holden or Salinger, respectively. The unique style of The Catcher in the Rye provides it with its uniquely classic status; the pedestrian style of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close provides it with its average stature.

Oskar's quest is caused by an inability to come to terms with his new environment. This is a feeling that both plagued and inspired Joyce and Faulkner. Joyce himself and Faulkner's characters, however, are much more experienced than Oskar and have had the opportunity to let their conflicts play out and become more nuanced than Oskar. Oskar is only nine-years old; the book happens too quickly and so does Oskar. The book would have perhaps been more effective if it were an insight into Oskar's teenage years, after the death of his father had simmered and fostered more backlash, especially at his mother. Then, and only then, could one see Oskar as Joyce, Faulkner, or even Holden.

The way the story is woven together--hybridized (blank pages, different fonts, etc.) and with intertextuality--is not only too complex for a nine-year old boy, it is too complex for Foer who does not have the Morrison-esque or (her idol) Faulkner-esque chops to successfully hybridize the page. Foer's novel almost seems non-linear and hybridized for the sake of non-linearity and hybridization. The two plots--September 11th and Dresden--are never fully reconciled and the parallel is a bit askew. The nuances of both are lost on Foer. The discussions between Oskar and his grandparents lead to some genuinely hearfelt moments, but by-and-large the failure to adequately link these two historical instances falls short. E.L. Doctorow, one of the most skiled American writers, attempted to hybridize the page in Loon Lake, which, like Foer's effort, was noble but failed. If Doctorow can't do it, Foer can't either.

I don't mean to come down hard on Foer because it takes a lot of courage to attempt to embrace and emulate these literary giants, but the novel can be considered a study in needing to let-Foer-be-Foer. He produces some very substantial, genuinely emotional moments, but they are few and far between and the hype of this novel as an anthem for the 9/11 generation quickly dissolves after only a few failed pages.