The Lazarus Project pgs 1-27

I love novels like The Lazarus Project! Hemon has commanded my attention. If I could write, I would want to present the world with something like this.

In the first chapter or section which remains without a title, but only defined by the bindings of two pictures, Hemon gives the reader a murder situation. Why climax later?! I love it. The set up is magnificant. I wish I could write my research paper on this, oh well. The only things the author knows for certain is that the time and place are accurate. So, from there I know that the whole thing will fall into place and shock me at the end like a crazy movie.

From what I know now, the "young man" referred to in the first section is a Jewish man who was looking for the police chief for reasons still unknown. He comes from the poverty stricken side of town, and he examines his life while visiting the police chief on the wealthier street.

"All the lives I could live, all the people I will never know, never will be, they are everywhere. That is all that the world is" (2). This is so true! One life is all you get. As for everyone else and their house, it's not your business. You will never know the "ins and outs". This spoke to me profoundly. The weather is always something gracious to comment on. It depicts moods and settings of people and places. I feel like with it being a record breaking 86 degrees today in Clemson, that this deserves to go in my blog: "temperatures are falseheartedly rising and maliciously dropping". Maybe not the the point of the weather in Chicago, but I have a feeling that before this book is completed, I will again comment on the undecided mind of this weather.

1908 was the year the murder took place. When lint ridden pockets where pennies should lie still thought there was "serenity of wealth". Now, in 2010 I don't think serenity has much to do with wealth, because many that are with abundant finances are still not living serenely. But, one thing remains constant over the years that one is "always close to the noise and clatter" (3) when in the ghetto.

Literary technique! I love authors that can put together words so wonderfully! I get so jealous of their diction. I wonder if they sit and think about what to throw in or if it just flows naturally: "a roll of butcher paper, like a fat Torah; a small scale in confident equilibrium; a ladder leaning against a shelf, its top up in the dim store heaven" or his repeated use of the word "burly" seen later on page 19. Even the personification of the past: "slapping it heartily on my back" (18).

The relationship between the married store owners is one of survival and codes. It seems as though the Mrs. gives most of the clues: "never trust a hungry man"(6). Wow. I don't know what to think about this. It sounds like it would be stated in a Malthusian way, modern day Andre Bauer. But, at the end of the day they are looking for whats in the best interest of self.

After the chaos of a murder, the man "died without a curse, supplication, or prayer" (9). Dang. That sucks. And to think, his last meal was a sour apple lozenge.

I love the pictures. Just when you think that maybe the next section is about a foggy night in the city, a continuation of the first--he surprises you with a new story. The story outside of the story. And the picture comes from one line you probably won't remember when you keep reading. The uneven heights and widths of the dancing children remind him of the skyline. Ha!

"In my country, we are suspicious of free-flowing air" (12). Maybe, it's because of the war? I don't really understand the whole Bosnia/Austria/Hungary thing. My history professor couldn't even get it through to me. I'm thinking this book might do the trick. But, I'm not as crazy as Susie who must have asked him if he thinks in English. But, I have to remember that this was 1908, but a statement like that would be deemed ignorant nowadays.

"I am complicated" (15). Simply stated, I love it. I feel this way sometimes.

With the emigration and marriage section of the syllabus, I'm surprised to see that this theme hasn't come up earlier in a stronger way--the theme of the man being the breadwinner. He (being the author and not the Jewish man--forgot to mention the pov switch.sorry!) is worried that his neurosurgeon wife will think he is a "slacker or a lazy Eastern European" (17). I hope to see his dreams come to fruition by the end of the novel.

I was astounded by the accuracy with which he described seeing an old friend; but when he mentioned that he "instantly recognized that whatever had connected [them] now nearly entirely dissolved", I laughed. I think that is the funniest, most awkward moment. Because, both parties know that that person is no longer a part of your life. So when all the catching up is done, and you know that their life is going smoothly, that's it. It's not really a "I'll talk to you later" kind of deal. You just simply go back to living your life and be thankful that God gave you a second to reminisce.

The third section where the assistant chief of police comes in and overanalyzes the crime scene is hysterical, because as the reader, I know the lozenges aren't laced with poison and that since the man was a foreigner, the sentences are probably to help him learn English. It's crazy that the assistant police chief thinks he is an anarchist and wants to confirm this by looking at the man's genitals. I would say he is messing with a crime scene, but he's the police. Oh, what people do with power.

I turn the page to see a face that tells me to stop reading, a face that resembles an author I saw today at the literary festival of which I will blog about later.