This was a beautiful novel, but heart-breaking and at times, very hard to read. I don't want to write much about the story itself but will say it beings in Afghanistan when it was still a relatively peaceful monarchy, struggling with racial tensions between Shi'a Hazara and Sunni Pashtuns. It is narrated by Amir, a priviledged aspiring writer who, through the course of the book, comes to terms with his personal holy trinity of Father, God and Country. The servant's son, Hassan, is Amir's constant companion until a life-changing event blows them apart.
The symbolism of kite-fighting (having string coated with ground glass and glue to cut your opponents' strings) was permeated the book: soaring and falling, freedom and restraint, grace and danger, lives turning, twisting, tangling and being cut free. But this story is no fairy tale; no one comes out unscathed.
I loved being immersed in another culture, proud and full of tradition. I loved the idea put forth in the novel that if you put two Afghanistans who don't know one another in a room, they would figure out how they are related. It struck me how young our country really is, and made me wish for cultural or even religious traditions in my own life, ways of life by which my great-grandparents lived, and by which my great-grandchildren would live. But I am a bit of a cultural mutt, and am without religiously faith. I'm striking my own path.
If you do read the book, go back and re-read the page that makes up chapter one when you are done, to really bring things full circle. But be prepared when you pick up this book, to be moved, and haunted.
The symbolism of kite-fighting (having string coated with ground glass and glue to cut your opponents' strings) was permeated the book: soaring and falling, freedom and restraint, grace and danger, lives turning, twisting, tangling and being cut free. But this story is no fairy tale; no one comes out unscathed.
I loved being immersed in another culture, proud and full of tradition. I loved the idea put forth in the novel that if you put two Afghanistans who don't know one another in a room, they would figure out how they are related. It struck me how young our country really is, and made me wish for cultural or even religious traditions in my own life, ways of life by which my great-grandparents lived, and by which my great-grandchildren would live. But I am a bit of a cultural mutt, and am without religiously faith. I'm striking my own path.If you do read the book, go back and re-read the page that makes up chapter one when you are done, to really bring things full circle. But be prepared when you pick up this book, to be moved, and haunted.
No comments:
Post a Comment