The beginning of this term in ASTU 100 has centered around the trauma of 9/11 and how it is represented in Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. This account of 9/11 and the firebombing of Dresden centers around the traumas of Oskar, young boy who lost his father in the Twin Towers attacks, and his grandparents, as they continue to deal with their traumatic losses in WWII.
One of the lasting concepts that defines this novel is the overarching sense of loneliness that, for me, is one of the central ways in which Foer defines trauma. This comes to define Grandma and Grandpa’s lives after the trauma, whether explicitly, in Grandpa’s loss of speech, or more symbolically, in the Something and Nothing spaces that construct their apartment. However, it is best played out through Oskar’s character, where the reader is able to see the parallels between Oskar’s healing and coming to terms with his trauma and his loss of the feelings of isolation, disconnection, and loneliness that consume him. This is most clearly seen in his travels in and around the boroughs of New York: his encounters with the many Blacks can be seen as one way in which he becomes less alone, as he interacts and comes together with others in their traumas. At the same time, it is evident that his journey aids him in his healing process. Another example is in the easing of tensions between Oskar and his mother towards the end of the novel; this represents another moment where Oskar paves his way towards being healed of his trauma.
Changing direction slightly, this week is UBC’s Mental Health week, and this subject came to mind when I thought of loneliness in our everyday lives—how Foer’s constructions of trauma (in that they are often represented in loneliness) can help to understand the loneliness that creates barriers in our society. The connection of loneliness with trauma can now be extended to mental illness. To me, this is a refreshing way to attempt to understand the struggles of mental illness—as a trauma themselves.
With mental illness, what often makes this loneliness so enduring and painful is the stigma that is associated with it. The fact of not being able to see a physical wound makes the pain so difficult to relate to, and therefore harder for people to believe. In a way, understanding this has a reciprocal effect on my appreciation of Foer’s novel: the struggles of those who face trauma (from events like 9/11, Dresden, the Holocaust, and countless others) are clearer. Pain, in all these situations, is silenced by the lack of visible wound.
This gives context for the purpose and necessity of Foer’s novel—and other narrations of trauma—but also gives context for erasing stigma, which is often one of the objectives of mental health awareness movements. In connecting these two occurrences, we can see that narrative may be one such way to erase stigma.
In this way, Foer’s novel can be used as a model for the impact of narrative on erasing loneliness. We see this within the novel, when Oskar begins to interact and connect with others, he feels more healing. We also see it with how the novel’s themes impact our society—and not only in the realm of understanding traumatic events, but understanding the more common, everyday traumas in many realms of our society, like mental health.
Thanks for listening!
Kristen
A note: I am, of course, not equating Oskar’s trauma with the traumas of struggling with stigma and mental illness—I cite Professor Luger on the distinction that that it is even not plausible to compare traumas—they are all horrific for the inhumanity they cause. Let me also make the necessary disclaimer that I know little about stigma and mental health except from personal experience and conversations with others, so what I am saying is purely opinion.