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mr updike missed the point and botched the facts ...
...in reviewing this mind bendingly compelling novel in a recent New Yorker:
#1. Buckminster is not a dog, he is a pussy, as any of Oskar's nine year old tormentors could have told him.
and
#2 I think grandmother's final words of advice rise above platitude when one considers all the cell phone calls placed from the World Trade Centers upper floors in the hour before it turned to dust.
I loved and believed Oskar's signature phrases : VJ, heavy boots...
The ending is literally profound beyond words.
And my favorite part is the signature on pen-testing pads in the art supply store. It wasn't at first. Having finished the book, it is.
hey...is that other review really by Ethan Hawke?
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