eating… what exactly?

Anti-Spoiler Alert: This post does not contain any gross stories.  Nor is it trying to prove a point by jabbing fingers.  It’s just a tease, really.  Ready?

Aaaaaaaaaaand… GO.

I am halfway through “Eating Animals” by Jonathan Safran Foer.

A good friend gave me his first novel, Everything is Illuminated, which I devoured winter quarter of last year.  And I bought and read his second, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, earlier this summer.  I blew through it as if maybe the next page is hiding a twenty.  No?  Surely, this one!  No?  The next?  Of course, there wasn’t any money hiding in the book.  But reading a good book is like slowly accumulating a vast fortune.  Once you have finished reading it, you can give all of the money away and magically retain it at the same time.  Foer’s first two books are breathtaking and unsettling.  Unsettling, as the topics are respectively the Holocaust and September 11.  A good artist finds beauty in tragedy and meaning in the meaningless.  Foer does this while demonstrating an acute eye for detail and the drive to change how readers expect words to appear on paper.

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