I picked up this book to fill in the time between my computer's booting and rebooting after it had crashed. I was thinking it would be candy - books that you read as fast as you eat a candy and forget just as fast.
While there is no denying that this is a book of our times, infatuated with action and movements rather than the subtelities of life it would be gross injustice to lump it together with the Sheldons and Higgins. While the portrayal of Afghanistan through the various vagaries of time is commendable, what makes this book truly beautiful is the seamless weaving of an individual's dreams and desires with history.
The redemptive journey of the feeble Amir, introduces one to characters of different shades. When Amir shines his light on Rahim Khan, Soraya and others, it is palatable some time enlightening even. But when he does so on the three of the most black-and-white characters in the book- Hassan, Baba and Aseef, he is just setting of fireworks during the day. Does he ever truly understand Baba? When he says, "Less than two hours ago, Baba had volunteered to take a bullet for the honor of a woman he didn't even know. Now he'd almost choked a man to death, would have done it cheerfully if not for the pleas of the same woman" as though there actions are irreconcilable, while both the actions sprang from an adherence to truth. Amir didn't understand this part of Baba when they were fleeing Afghanistan. Did he understand him when they moved to the United States. While they warm up to each other in there, there is no evidence that he ever imbibes his dad's values. He betrayed Hassan out of fear of Aseef, but the fear was still there with him when he went to rescue Hassan's son from Aseef. Sure he did stand up to him this time, and that while being redemption enough for his actions, was not redemption enough for his soul. For he still feared Aseef and to fear something is to look up to it. A man who is sure of his path is not afraid, Baba wasn't neither was Aseef.
Thus, Amir's is a journey from downright cowardice in both actions and soul to a path that is right and he thinks it is right, but still he doesn't feel its right. A pussy who finally learns to be brave, if there is such a thing as learning to be brave.
In spite of incomplete redemption in the main plot, this book is ultimately about hope. The hope that someday Amir will shed off his demons completely, the hope that the pomegrenate tree will again bear fruit and the hope that someday Sohrab's smiles will not be that rare.
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My favorite part :
"It was a dark little tale about a man who found a magic cup and learned that if he wept into the cup, his tears turned into pearls. But even though he had always been poor, he was a happy man and rarely shed a tear. So he found ways to make himself sad so that his tears could make him rich. As the pearls piled up, so did his greed grow. The story ended with the man sitting on a mountain of pearls, knife in hand, weeping helplessly into the cup with his beloved wife's slain body in his arms.
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"Mashallah, Amir agha, Bravo!" He was beaming.
"You liked it?" I said, gettin my second taste- and how sweet it was - of a positive review.
"Some day, Inshallah, you will be a great writer" Hassan said.
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"Well," he said, "if I may ask, why did the man kill his wife? In fact, why did he ever have to feel sad to shed tears? Couldn't he have just smelled onions?" "
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