What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboard down the street at night you could hear everyone's heartbeat, and they could heart yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone's hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don't really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn't have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City marathon it would sound like war.
Chapter One, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer, (published 2005).
This passage, which is in fact the second paragraph of the book, had me beautifully hooked. It was like another a-ha moment for me, or, as we call it in my family, a "Ratatouille moment". It made me smile and then frown as I thought it through again and again. It continues to amaze me. War. There is something about that final word which makes the entire passage sound so profound, whether I understand it or not. I can tell that I am really going to enjoy this book.