Jonathan Safran Foer
Molto forte, incredibilmente vicino

New York, September 11, 2001. Message One: 8:52 AM. "Is anyone there? Hello? It's Dad. If you're home, pick up. I tried calling the office. But no one answered. Listen, something has happened... but I'm okay. We've been told not to move and to wait for the firemen. There's no danger, I'm sure. I'll call back when I have a clearer idea of what's happening. Just wanted to tell you I'm okay, and not to worry. I'll call back soon."

There's a nine-year-old boy who thinks too much, sleeps too little, and too often gets bruises. On his business card, you will find written:

OSKAR SCHELL
INVENTOR, JEWELRY DESIGNER, JEWELRY MAKER, AMATEUR ENTOMOLOGIST, FRANCOPHILE, VEGAN, ORIGAMI ENTHUSIAST, PACIFIST, PERCUSSIONIST, AMATEUR ASTRONOMER, IT CONSULTANT, AMATEUR ARCHAEOLOGIST, COLLECTOR OF: rare coins, butterflies that died of natural causes, miniature cacti, Beatles memorabilia, semi-precious stones and more

E-MAIL: oskar_shell@hotmail.com
HOME TEL: PRIVATE / CELL: PRIVATE
FAX: DON'T HAVE ONE YET

He has recently lost his dad.

Message Two: 9:12 AM. "It's still me. Is anyone there? Hello! Sorry if. There's a lot of. Smoke. I was hoping to find. Someone. At home. I don't know if you've heard what happened. But. I just wanted. To let you know I'm okay. Everything is. Fine. When you hear this message, call Grandma. Tell her I'm okay. I'll call back in a few minutes. I hope by then. The firemen will have arrived. I'll call you back. In. A few. Minutes."

There's a mother who saw her life torn apart by a plane crashing into a skyscraper. She has a son whom she loves dearly, even more than she shows. She has recently lost her husband.

Message Three: 9:31 AM. "Hello? Hello? Hello?"

There's a former aspiring sculptor who survived bombs that, in a single night, turned his country into hell. For forty years, he has written empty letters, full of things he was never able to express. Now he lives in America. On the palm of his left hand, he has a "YES" tattooed. On the palm of his right hand, he has a "NO" tattooed. Because, little by little, one by one, he lost words.

Message Four: 9:46 AM. "It's Dad. Thomas Schell. This is Thomas Schell speaking. Hello? Can you hear me? Is anyone home? Answer. Please! Answer. I am under a table. Hello? Sorry. Sorry I have a wet handkerchief around my face. Hello! No. Try the other one. Hello? Sorry. People here are losing their minds. There's a helicopter circling above us, and... I think we're going to head to the roof. They say there will be some sort of evacuation from up here, which makes sense. Provided the helicopters can get close enough. Yes, it makes sense. Please answer. I don't know. Exactly, that one. Try that one."

There is a key, but there is no lock. Or rather, there are too many. 216 to be precise: as many as the people living in New York named Black. And so there is a journey to undertake: 216 Blacks to visit and 216 locks to try, as if they were the stations of a cross, to discover what that single key opens. There are photos, drawings, images, an entire administrative district that one fine day decides to leave, and promises impossible to keep: "Promise me you'll never love anything as much as I love you."

Message Five: 10:04 AM. "I'M DA       DAD. HELLO         DADDY                IF YOU HEAR           THIS MESSAGE                                                      HELLO?                                         CAN YOU HEAR ME? WE'RE HEADING UP                 TO          THE         ROOF     EVERYTHING'S FINE                 SOON                        SORRY             LISTEN                    NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS                     REMEMBER..."

While I was trying to write the review for this book, I realized I don't know how to write book reviews. Too bad.

So let's put it this way.

A few years ago, for more or less a thousand reasons, I found myself in one of the darkest periods of my short existence. Right then, I happened to read "Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close". Now, I don't want to throw at you the usual promotional claims like: "This book saved my life!", "It's a masterpiece!", "After reading it, I was never the same again!". Also because none of these three statements is true. But I will tell you: despite feeling pretty awful during those days, this book managed to move me and, most importantly, it made me smile. And they were nice smiles, the kind where your lips might not even move, but it does you more good than a laugh.

That's all.