This isn’t my venue for reviewing books, but I am reading Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close for the first time. And wanted to talk about it somewhere. Despite it being recommended to me by a million people and services, I forgot what it was about. I generally try to forget what books are about, and have a policy of never reading the book jacket (unless I am browsing the bargain bin of my local independent book seller), because I like to go into a book with a blank slate and endless possibilities.
So I forgot that this book is about the fallout to a family after September 11th, and I guess this is a very appropriate time to read it. We will be observing the anniversary by celebrating Enkutatash. …combating the terrorists in a very metaphorical way – having a multiethnic potluck celebrating another country’s culture. Everything that makes America great.
But this book is striking me for another reason (aside from its absolutely brilliant writing). The main character, Oscar, is 10 years old. And he shares a trait with my 10-year-old. He mispronounces words he has only read before.  D does this all the time. I love these little verbal slips that betray his amazing yet untested vocabulary.
“Mom, that excitement sure did get my a-dren-a-LINE going!”
“Auntie Kate, I love when the uh-pss truck comes to our house because it means my mom ordered us some books from Amazon.” (This one makes total sense when you read it, but I needed it repeated it like 20 times… “Ups. ups. OH. U.P.S. Okay.”)
“Her haircut looks like Clee-OPT-era’s”
His very first one of these was as soon as he realized how pizza was spelled, he began mispronouncing it on purpose. “Are we going to eat some pee-zah for dinner?”
Charles just reminded me that the original one of these might have been the word original. We still say it like he did when he was four, sometimes to crack each other up, “oh-RIGG-in-all.”