I keep having to take breaks from reading this book for fear of completely drowning in the haunting story line. I am only at chapter nine, and it has broken my heart a few times already.
Some books are written to be read fast, skimmed over the way a gatherer gleans the first fruits of a crop; some to be eaten like pickled plums, a little at a time, to keep yourself from being overwhemed by the intensity of taste. This book is like the latter.
----- UPDATE
I finished the book this week. It was a riveting read to the end, but the plot made me roll my eyes at some point. The author tried too hard to tie up the loose ends, making the storyline strained to the point of absurdity. Come on, did the protagonist really have to have a hair-lip scar to redeem him? Or did the son really have to mimic so exactly what his father did so long ago by pointing his slingshot at the SAME eye, at the SAME person? Was it necessary for Hassan's mother to make an appearance in the novel? It is a bit too much. Life isn't so neat, if you know what I mean.
That was the only pitfall of this novel. The first half was better than the second because the historical backdrop made it feel like the story was real (compare The English Patient which never lost this sense of reality); in the second half, after the encounter with Aseef, it felt like a made-up story.
Nevertheless, the novel moved me -- Amir's longing to make his father proud, the loyalty of Hassan, the guilt Amir felt, the sense of sin and retribution, the belief in God, and the devastation of a country. The backdrop was fascinating. After US' exploits in Afghanistan, who wouldn't be intersted in an insider's view of the country's culture, religion, language and people?
For you a thousand times over. What a beautiful phrase.
Posted
on Sunday, July 10, 2005 at 10:35 AM.
:)
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