Saturday, August 10, 2013

Book Review - And the Mountains Echoed, Khaled Hosseini

           
Have you ever felt like you didn’t belong somewhere?  Like something was just off.  Like there was something missing, or perhaps too much of something.  I think most of us have had this feeling at some point in our lives, and we just shake it off, attributing it to “having a bad day” or it being a “weird situation.”  But imagine if you just couldn’t shake this feeling, if it were there every minute of every day, and you just couldn’t put your finger on what was causing it.  That is exactly how Pari feels in Khaled Hosseini’s And the Mountains Echoed.
            And the Mountains Echoed is Hosseini’s third work of fiction, after his debut novel the The Kite Runner (2003, later adapted into a film) and his second novel A Thousand Splendid Suns (2007).  Hosseini is Afghani-American (born in Afghanistan, moved to the US in 1980), and worked as a physician before becoming a well-renowned novelist.  Hosseini won a great deal of fame from his debut novel The Kite Runner in 2003, and therefore his third novel was welcomed with much anticipation and excitement.
            Pari Wahdati is the central and connected character of many in And the Mountains Echoed.  Born to a poor family in the run-down village of Shadbagh, at age three Pari is as curious and rambunctious as any child.   Pari enjoys a simple childhood in the town of Shadbagh in Afghanistan.  She lives with her father, older brother, younger half-brother, and step-mother.   With her mother having died during her birth, Pari’s older brother Abdullah, seven years her senior, is a central part of her life, playing the role of the mother she lacks.  He takes care of her, brings her gifts, and loves her as if she were his own daughter.  The family lives in poverty, and their constant hardship is what leads Pari’s father to sell her to the couple his brother-in-law works for in far-away Kabul.  This decision inevitably changes the shape of not only Pari’s life, but every life had touched up until that point, and every life she would touch in the future. 
            Having loved Hosseini’s two previous novels, I eagerly awaited my turn to get my hands on this book (there were 40 requests ahead of me at the library for the three or so copies).  To say I loved it as much as Hosseini’s other works would be a lie.  The characters and the plot simply didn’t hold the same intensity; they didn’t grab you and shake you up like Amir’s deception in Kite Runner or Mariam’s sacrifice in A Thousand Splendid Suns.  I wouldn’t go as far to say that I disliked the novel, but Hosseini set his bar high, and he just couldn’t reach the level he did in his previous works.  Now, what I did LOVE about this novel was the way Hosseini connected the different people in Pari’s life (and not JUST her family), adding engaging side-plots with their own interesting relationships and conflicts.  From the Greek doctor who moved into the house in Kabul where Pari grew up, to Pari’s step-uncle and his relationship with Pari’s adoptive father (also his employer) in Kabul, Hosseini interlinked everyone in a creative and meaningful manner.  In some cases, these sub-plots also shed light on the powerful political climate of Kabul in the 1980’s and the war-damaged Kabul of the early 21st century.  In other cases, they touched upon traditional conflict, such parent-child relationships and dealing with a mental illness.  Hosseini’s ability to effectively integrate and connect multiple viewpoints showed that although the novel was a bit of a drag at times, his narrative technique may be enough make this a winner. 
            Did I LOVE this book (like I LOVED Hosseini’s first two novels)?  Heck no.  Did I enjoy it?  Yeah, for the most part.  I think this is a worthy read for any fan of Hosseini’s first two novels, and any fan of popular fiction books.  Although it had its dull points, Hosseini took one event in one character’s life and created a web of enticing themes and conflicts, at least one of which is sure to grab any reader.  This novel also ends on a high note, showing that although it may torment you your whole life, that irking feeling of not belonging can bloom into something beautiful that, in the end, brings pure joy and warms your heart.    

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

HARVEY THE CAT AT SUNRISE

HARVEY THE CAT AT SUNRISE




I don’t know why she won’t just get out of bed.  I mean, she’s just sitting there.  I’m just SO EXCITED.  I NEED her to get up.  I just don’t know what to do…maybe if I just step over there and make a little scratchy noise with my paws…that might get her attention.

Harvey stands up an all fours in the corner of the bedroom, and walks toward the bed.  He knows that what he is about it do is NOT going to work in his favor, yet he can’t help but try, just one last time.  He lifts his paws, effortlessly extends his claws and makes the softest contact with the box spring when…POW!  Water comes shooting at him, full speed.

Oh dear God, why, why, why.  Water, the stinging feel of this horrid liquid spreading over my pristine and laboriously groomed fur.  Oh, it feels like blades digging under my skin and tearing my veins apart, like nails scratching a chalkboard for eternity, like the incessant loud beeps of a smoke alarm that will just not turn off.


Harvey retreats, sprinting out of the bedroom, and down the stairs, to safety.  When he hops off the last step, he immediately attends to the affected area with his tongue. 

Oh dear tongue, dear saliva, please, please, wash away this nastiness.  Cleanse me of this dreadful water!  

Harvey sits there for several minutes, licking frantically, until he can lick no more. He sits in silence, trying to recall what happened and why.  Sitting just below the bottom step, he looks up the staircase, visualizing what is up there.  He knows, yes, he knows.

Oh, I still just cannot understand, I cannot get this image of her just LYING there in bed out of my mind.  Why oh why must she lie there?  Does she not see the sun is starting to peek its little head from the clouds?  That soon it will be light?  This is prime running time, the time to be awake, aware, explore, enjoy, live.  She must get up.  She must!


Harvey looks up the staircase at his demise.  Yet, he cannot help himself.  The urge to try again, to give it just one more try, it is too strong.  He stealthily climbs the first step.


Yes, this time it will work.  A little noise, a little jump on the bed, a tap on the head, that will let her know, will MAKE her realize that it is truly time to rise.  

Harvey slowly ascends the first few steps, then quickly trots up the remaining stairs, runs into the room, and hurdles himself on the bed, launching himself onto the delicious curly hair of his master.  Before he can settle his claws into the sweet tangles, he hears a loud noise, and feels himself being thrown off the bed.  Harvey straightens himself out mid-air, then swiftly lands on the carpet.  He immediately breaks into a sprint, heading down the staircase.

I have failed again.  She will never understand my reason.  She only sleeps, sleeps, sleeps.  I am defeated, I have reached my end point.  I must wallow in this loss, sit here in silence, until she awakes. 

The minutes tick by, but for Harvey time is not passing.  Patience is something he cannot understand.  He looks up the staircase, willing himself to resist, to stay down, to not bear further punishment.  He tries to hold back, he uses all of his might, yet he feels his paw lifting toward the bottom stair….


Just one more try, just one more try.  If I can just give her one little nudge, she will see…

Thursday, July 25, 2013

WHY?



WHY?

So, I decided to start this blog.  And of course, I’m wondering “Why?”  Why start a silly old blog?  In all honesty, I’ve always thought that blogs were cheesy, corny, dorky, etc.  I’ve never really seen the point in doing something like this, nor really felt like anyone would read it.  Yet, here I am.


I guess there are a few things that inspired me.  First, I realized that writing is COOL.  Well, I always knew it was cool.  I tear up novels like nobody’s business, indicating a clear adoration for the written word.  Yet, I think it was reading some other people’s “stuff” (aka written work) that got me going and thinking about ME doing some pleasure writing.


A few months ago my boyfriend shared with me a short story he wrote, entitle “The Man with the Hat.”  I don’t want to ruin it, but it was detective-esque short story, and it actually succeeded in ending in a cliffhanger fashion, leaving the reader wondering what may have happened.   And it was SO GOOD.  The dialogue was amazing, and I was just so IMPRESSED with how he captured the quintessential “detective talk” that I so loved when watching Law and Order and reading James Patterson.  And reading his story just made me tingle a bit.


Another thing that got me going was during one of my classes in school.  For my Severe Reading and Writing Disorders class, we had to write 5-paragraph essays (7th grader style yo!) at the beginning of the semester.  Now, I bet your thinking that I’m going to go all into how writing the essay inspired me, and blah blah blah.  But no, it was editing someone ELSE’S writing that actually inspired me.  One of my classmates wrote a funny, witty, charming essay on “the irony of her likes and dislikes”  (e.g., I love working out, but I hate running; I love cooking shows, but I hate cooking).  She was just so good at capturing that “ironic feel,” and I thought it was just amazing.  Especially in comparison to my ever-so sappy essay on running the Disney Marathon...what a boring, predictable narrative, seriously!

Now, do I propose to write amazing dialogue, or show my witty, spunky side with this blog?  Nah, I’m not ready to give myself that much credit yet.  Sure, it would be cool…but I’m not going to count on it.  The idea here, for me, is not to show off my writing skills (which are pretty mediocre, to be frank) or to share anything of particular importance….I guess the idea is to just create some art, have fun with words, and enjoy creating the words, instead of just sucking them in, as my ravenous-reader self does.  


And yes, I plan on using some super cool pictures and video and fonts and links and ugly florescent colors along the way.  How could I not?


So that is why I am starting this blog…in a nutshell.  ‘Til next time…