Monday, February 8, 2016

So what does it all mean?


To be completely honest, I had a hard time discerning the meaning in this book for a while. For some reason, I tend to have some difficulties with more contemporary books like this. Granted, most of the “contemporary” books I read (i.e. my current read, Amy Poehler’s Yes Please) aren’t really written to have any sort of profound meaning…

From what I could gather though, Krauss seems to be suggesting that love isn’t all rose petals and love notes and jewelry and chocolate and tears of joy. Sometimes love hurts us more than it benefits us. Sometimes we struggle to understand or cope with love. Love is complicated. Ultimately, most humans, like the characters in this book, are driven by love (whether that be good or bad).

Going into this book called The History of Love you expect a romantic, The Notebook-esque love story complete with reunions and tears and everyone living happily ever after. Instead you are introduced to characters that all struggle to cope with the loss of love. Even though they all suffered these losses long ago, they are still motivated by the “leftover” love/attachment.  

à Leo is so enthralled with Alma he fails to move on with his life. He spends his life alone, thinking about how things could’ve been, instead of trying to create a new life. His proudest achievement is the book he wrote about falling in love with Alma and he (possibly) has a heart attack when he finds out that it was not in fact lost forever, but published by his friend.

à Alma’s actions are primarily driven by her love for her late father. She reads the books he used to read and even wears his clothes. She is so fascinated by The History of Love because she knows it was very meaningful to her father. Were it not for her love for her father and also her father’s love for the book, she never would’ve gone on this journey to discover the book’s background. Alma’s mother is also affected by the loss of her husband, but her love for him doesn’t really motivate her to do much of anything, it mostly inhibits her. It inhibits her from finding new love and it inhibits her from maintaining a healthy, active lifestyle-she frequently demonstrates serious symptoms of depression such as lying on the couch/in her room for days on end, and lacking motivation to do much of anything like clean or parent.

Krauss focuses not on the joyous, glamorous parts of love but instead the messy, complicated, heartbreaking parts of love. Proving that although humans live for connections/love, sometimes the one thing we live for can dictate (or inhibit) our actions too much for our own good.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Reasons why "The History of Love" is not one of my favorite books

I really wanted to like this book. It sounded great, it had great reviews, but for some reason it just fell short of my expectations. And I'm not all that hard to impress when it comes to literature. I enjoy reading and I enjoy a variety of books. I just couldn't bring myself to love this one. Granted I didn't hate it either. It was just okay. Here's a breakdown of some reasons why it just didn't resonate with me.

1) IT'S NOT A LOVE STORY
I'm not sure why this one bugged me so much but you'd think in a book titled "The History of Love" there'd be some love. Aside from Leo's flashbacks to when he was dating Alma, this book is not really about the beauty and joys of love. It's about losing love and dysfunction in love. Leo never finds love after Alma Mereminski. He also never gets to really love or parent his son. Alma Singer's mom never finds love after her husband dies. Alma awkwardly almost finds love in Misha and later Herman but both turn out to be dead ends. I feel Krauss should've expanded more upon love, whether that be in Leo's past or in Alma's present/future, instead of sheer sadness and loneliness with no resolution or improvement.

2) The ending 
After all of the buildup and confusion, the ending was underwhelming and abrupt. It felt as though Krauss just gave up on writing the book. Alma Singer and Leo end up being connected by Bird, which seemed random and unrealistic. They meet in a park, establish that Leo wrote the book, hug, and then Leo possibly has a heart attack? It felt shallow and anticlimactic in comparison to the complexity of the story. I was expecting them to cross paths in his son's house when they both visited but Krauss overlooked that and dragged the book on far longer than needed. I can't really explain what I was expecting from the ending, but I was expecting more than what we were given. I was hoping at least maybe some sliver of happiness but... no because

3) There is no happiness in this book whatsoever
The characters are very well developed and differentiated but they're all so sad. It was very hard for me to read in that aspect. It was one of the most depressing books I've ever read.

4) There are a lot of loose ends 
I think Krauss just tried to do too much with this book, there were just far too many leads with no follow up or closure whatsoever. In the beginning, it appears Alma is primarily serving as a matchmaker for her mother, but Krauss quickly and abruptly drops this concept. One day Alma is writing letters to Jacob Marcus (who also just kind of disappears), the next she's completely forgotten about her mother's love life. Alma kind of figures out she's in love with Misha but he's suddenly phased out for the rest of the book. Alma's uncle comes to visit for a few weeks and then disappears without contributing much of anything. Misha is described as believing he is the Jewish Messiah but there is no focus on his character until he randomly becomes a narrator for the last few chapters of the book. All of these fragments of the story that Krauss just abandons contribute to how confusing this book can be.

5) It is really confusing 
Between all of the narrators and their connections, the flashbacks, the lists and charts, the history of "The History of Love", this book is at times chaotic. This lead to a lot of confusion and frustration on my part. Again, I think this connects to the fact that Krauss just tried to do too much. You would probably have to read this book at least twice to really understand and appreciate the story.


Although Krauss' writing is overall quite beautiful and poetic, due to the chaos, the abrupt ending, and the overall morose tone, I just couldn't bring myself to love it. However, if you can either dedicate the time to read this book multiple times or you're able to overlook some of these little glitches, this book is definitely worthwhile.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Why AP?

Mrs. LaClair (and the College Board) both really emphasize how the books we read/write about for AP English need to be of "literary merit". After Google searching what exactly establishes this "literary merit", I've (unfortunately) discovered there is really no clear definition or set of criteria. Obviously these books need to be well written and fairly profound (so books like "Fifty Shades of Grey" and "Twilight" don't make the cut) but defining literary merit is still fairly subjective. Here are a few factors that I would personally consider in my definition of literary merit and how I feel The History of Love either fits or does not fit these criteria.

1) Will my grandchildren/great grandchildren/great great grandchildren read this book in their flying cars/jetpacks?
One big question in considering literary merit is whether or not a book will "stand the test of time". There are books that our parents read in school that we still read today and that we assume kids for generations to come will read too (think The Great Gatsby, Uncle Tom's Cabin, etc.). The books that last are distinguished by many different things from their originality and the quality of the writing to how deeply they move readers or impact a culture/society. Do I ultimately think that years from now kids will be reading The History of Love in school? No, unfortunately I do not. Although part of that is just because I don't think a whole lot of modern writing will become "classic". While Krauss' writing style was unique,  the craftsmanship is not even comparable to that in a book like The Great Gatsby and I didn't find the content itself all that ground breaking. But again, with so much literature out there today I think it has become exceptionally hard to write something that is really earth shattering. I also enjoyed the book but I was not exceptionally moved or emotionally impacted by it.

2) Is the book thought provoking?
Through establishing so many characters and then slowly hinting at how they are all connected along the way, Nicole Krauss created an engaging and challenging read in The History of Love. As a reader one has to try to piece together the story of the book the book is about (The History of Love) while also piecing together how these characters are intertwined. It was frustrating and confusing at times, but ultimately very thought provoking so in that aspect I would definitely consider it AP material. It was one of the most challenging books that I've ever read in terms of putting all the pieces together.

3) Is the book at an "adult" reading level?
I would definitely not throw The History of Love into the young adult section at Gibson's or BAM. As I stated before it can be challenging to connect all of the characters and their stories. So although the vocabulary is not all that difficult, it requires some serious thought, again putting it at an AP level.

4) Is the writing style original/unique?
As I've discussed in my previous posts, Nicole Krauss' style is very unique. I won't repeat my last post, but essentially, having three different narrators throughout the book (and assorted lists/writings from them all) was a very creative and unique touch that made this book that much more complex and engaging. I feel that being exposed to books with many different styles is one of the most beneficial aspects of our education in English. So again, I would argue that The History of Love  does have "literary merit" and qualifies as AP material.

Ultimately, although I do not feel that this book will go down in history, it was an enjoyable and challenging read, and overall I do feel that it qualifies as a valid AP English book choice. 

Thursday, January 14, 2016

A Heart, a Compass, and a Book

Nicole Krauss' style is definitely not conventional, especially when it comes to narrators of the story. As I touched upon in my last post, the book is told by a plethora of narrators. The narrator for each chapter is indicated by a little symbol on the chapter's cover page.

Heart For chapters that are narrated by Leo, there is a little human heart as Leo's heart is his biggest weakness (both in an emotional and a physical sense). In terms of the emotional weakness of his heart, he has never really recovered from losing the girl (whose name we've now discovered is Alma Mereminski) and being unable to truly love and parent his son. Obviously, losing his family in such a traumatic way takes a significant emotional toll as well. In a physical sense, although he does describe his emotional pain as physical pain- saying "loneliness: there is no organ that can take it all" (10) and describing how he tries to redirect emotional blows to other assorted, stronger internal organs- he also frequently talks about how weak his heart is after he suffered a heart attack.  He says, "my heart is weak and unreliable" and speculates "when I go it will be my heart. I try to burden it as little as possible" (10).

Compass Chapters narrated by Alma (Singer) are indicated by a compass, as a compass is symbolic of her journey as well as just representative of her interests. The compass could be interpreted as symbolic of two different "journeys" she is on. First, the more obvious journey is her coming-of-age. Although Alma is definitely very independent and mature, and in that sense she isn't struggling with the typical (identity, peer pressure, etc.) dilemmas of the pre-teen age, she does struggle to interpret her feelings for Misha and later Herman. After kissing Herman one day she explains "[she] felt happy and sad in equal parts, because [she] knew that [she] was falling in love, but it wasn't with him" (202). Although her growth process is a notable journey as it would be with any character her age, it is not really the journey that the book really focuses on. The book is mostly focused on her journey to decipher The History of Love. She is trying to figure out what about this book makes it so impactful on so many people. Specifically, who the woman Alma Mereminski is, and what was so special about her. The compass also just reinforces her interest in survival tips and methods. 

Book Chapters with a little book symbol are actually the history of The History of Love. Two different characters that are both responsible in some way for the book’s current significance narrate these chapters. They follow David Singer (Alma's late father) as he discovers the book and Zvi Livitnoff the "author" of "The History of Love" (there's a major plot twist there but I will get to that later). They follow Livitnoff as he creates a new life for himself after fleeing Poland and as he ultimately makes a very important (and haunting) decision about The History of Love


In terms of other stylistic devices, Krauss frequently uses flashbacks and other forms of writing  (i.e. journal excerpts, lists, manuscripts, etc.) to enhance her characters. She also frequently inserts Yiddish words into dialogue to highlight just how relevant the Jewish faith is to the characters in the book. Her writing is very descriptive and detailed, ultimately making for an interesting and engaging reading experience. 

Thursday, January 7, 2016

Characters


The History of Love introduces the reader to a plethora of characters who all seem to share some commonalities. First of all, the majority of the characters are Jewish, and the Jewish culture/history plays an integral role in this story. The two main characters, Alma and Leo, both live in New York City. Living in one of the biggest cities in the world, both are constantly surrounded by people, yet they are both fairly lonely and outcasted. Alma really only has one close friend (a Jewish boy named Misha), and Leo only has one close friend to interact with as well (his neighbor Bruno). Loneliness is a fairly prominent ailment for most of the other characters in this book as well. Both main characters, as well as many of the other characters in the story are also connected by a love for literature and writing. Most importantly though, almost every character in the book seems to have an appreciation for, or at least familiarity with, a book called The History of Love (go figure). How this book relates to each character, and how that unites all of the characters in a way, is yet to be revealed, but for now here's an outline of some of the characters and their backgrounds.


Leopold "Leo" Gursky Leo is one of the main characters in the novel, narrating approximately one-third of the book (will touch upon how that works in my next post about style/formatting). Leo is a lonely elderly man with a painful past. Before eventually immigrating to New York, Leo was a young boy living in Poland during the Holocaust. He frequently has flashbacks to his childhood and his home. He laments on how his family, as well as the rest of the Jewish community in Poland, failed to see the Nazi invasion coming. He says "there were rumors of unfathomable things, and because we couldn't fathom them we failed to believe them, until we had no choice and it was too late" (8). He regrets being unable to save his mother and brother and these regrets and flashbacks contribute greatly to his current sadness. Although it may seem odd for a Holocaust survivor with so many traumatic memories, another reason why his flashbacks inflict so much pain is because it's almost as if he feels that those years back in Poland were some of the best of his life. Most notably because he was in love with a young girl whom he felt he truly had a future with. Although we aren't given her name, he looks back on their relationship very fondly and very frequently. He paints their relationship as almost fairytale-like saying "once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering. When they were ten he asked her to marry him. When they were eleven he kissed her for the first time...Their love was a secret they told no one. He promised her he would never love another girl as long as he lived" (11).  After she flees the country he loses contact with her until eventually he finds her in New York years later. He discovers she had his baby, but ended up marrying another man. Although she has moved on he still feels dedicated to her. This dedication prevents him from moving on with his life and contributes to his depression and loneliness. He thinks a lot about death and dying alone. Farther into the story though we see a shift where he becomes slightly more optimistic about life after he sends out the book he is working on to his son. He comes home that night and calls Bruno saying "Isn't it good to be alive?" (76).  So it seems as though things may be looking up for Leo in the near future. 

Alma Singer Alma is another main character in the novel, also narrating about one-third of the book. She is a 14-year-old Jewish girl who is a little quirky. She is obsessed with a book her father (now deceased) had called "How to Survive in the Wild". She reads it and knows the content pretty well. Her hero is French author Antoine de St. Exupery. She misses her father immensely, even wearing his sweater for "forty-two days straight" despite her peers taunting "WHAT'S UP WITH THAT DISGUSTING SWEATER?" (49). We see in this aspect that her faith/interest in certain subjects is unwavering regardless of the options of her peers. She is determined to be a matchmaker for her mother, constantly sending letters in her mother's name to eligible men and trying to set her up on dates. She is so invested in this partially because she wants her mother to be happy but also because she wants her mother to stop smothering her so much, she wants to kind of divert all that affection in a way. She is also intrigued by The History of Love as her father named her after the main character in the book. Her current mission is to find the real woman the book was written about so she can figure out what's so special about her. 

Bird Singer Bird is Alma's younger brother. He's slightly quirky too, he thinks for some reason that he is the Jewish Messiah. When he falls off a ladder and only obtains a slight injury to his wrist he is not surprised at all noting "deep inside [he] knew [he] was safe the whole time and that [God] wouldn't let anything happen to [him] because [he is] most definitely a lamed vovnik" (150). He runs a lemonade stand in an abandoned lot in his neighborhood where he is also building a wall for some sort of flood he is waiting for.

Alma's Mother Alma's mom translates books for a living. She loves to read and Alma talks about how she is frequently rewarding her favorite authors with posthumous Nobels. Although Alma is determined to set her up with someone, she doesn't seem interested in finding anyone else. Alma thinks that her mother may never love another man like she loved her father again.

David Singer David is Alma's father who died of pancreatic cancer when she was young. Although he is deceased, he is still an active character in the book as he discovered The History of Love in a small bookstore when he was a young man. He later gives the book to Alma's mother and (obviously) names his daughter after the main character.

Bruno Bruno is Leo's equally lonely and old neighbor. He and Leo have a secret messaging system to ensure each other that they are both still alive. He also immigrated to the US from Poland and we later discover that they were very close friends until he began to interact with the girl Leo was in love with. Leo recalls the last time he saw her-"sixty years ago, when [he'd] left her house in tears and caught sight of [Bruno] standing against a tree holding a notebook, waiting to go to her after [he'd] gone. A few months earlier [they'd] been the closest of friends...and yet. By the time [he] caught sight of [Bruno] that afternoon, [they] were no longer friends" (133). Although neither of them ends up with her, they discover that they are both simultaneously writing books about her. As readers it's hard to tell if this is something that will end up unifying them or creating tension between them as the story goes on...

Misha Misha is Alma's closest friend. They met when Alma's foreign pen pal encouraged her to talk instead to a Jewish boy from her town that was moving to NY. Misha has Alma help him learn more English, and in turn acts as a good friend and confidant for her. He eventually develops romantic feelings for Alma but we are unsure if they will pursue a relationship.

Isaac Moritz Isaac is Leo's son who actually doesn't even know that Leo exists. He is a famous author and Leo frequently checks his books out from the library. Isaac unknowingly meets his father at a book signing, but Leo is too afraid to tell him the truth. Isaac dies about halfway into the story, leaving Leo unable to know if his son read his book and also unable to reveal their relationship. 


Jacob Marcus Jacob is the man who writes to Alma's mother and requests that she translates The History of Love for him as quickly as she can (and for $100,000). It is still to be determined what his motivation for making this request is. He says in his initial letter that someone read a few pages to him as a bedtime story and he has never forgotten those pages, but Alma sets out to reveal why those pages were so impactful on him and why the book is worth so much to him.