Finished this book about a month ago but it's taken me this long to write a review about it because I have such mixed feelings about it. It was a deeply affecting novel, but mostly not in a good way. I really wanted to like it, but the more I think about what I didn't like about the book, the more it bothers me. I even downgraded this review from two stars to one from the time I started writing it to the time I finished.Let's start off with the good, shall we? The writing itself was pretty good when it comes to description, in that I really felt the author's descriptions of scenes, and in terms of moving the story forward. That said, it's not particularly challenging writing to read.The very best part of the novel is its warm depiction of the mixed culture of Afghanistan, and how it conveys the picture of a real Afghanistan as a living place, before the coup, the Soviet invasion, and above all, the Taliban and the aftermath of September 11th created a fossilized image in the US of a failed state, petrified in "backwardness" and locked in the role of a villain from central casting. Now for the not so good.== Spoiler Alert ==... because I don't think I'm going to be able to complain about what I didn't like about the book without revealing major plot points. (Not to mention, some of what follows will only make sense to someone who has read the book.) So if you don't want to spoil it for yourself, read no further, here be spoilers:My overwhelming emotion throughout the book is feeling entirely manipulated. Of course, one major reason for this is that the author's attempts at metaphor, allegory, and forshadowing are utterly ham-fisted. When he wants to make a point, he hits you over the head with it, hard -- Amir's split lip / Hassan's cleft palate comes immediately, resoundingly to mind.But I feel manipulated beyond that. The members of the servant class in this story suffer tragic, unspeakable calamities, sometimes at the hands of our fine hero, and yet the novel seems to expect the reader to reserve her sympathies for the "wronged" privileged child, beating his breast over the emotional pain of living with the wounds he has selfishly inflicted upon others. How, why, am I supposed to feel worse for him as he feels bad about what he has done to others? Rather than feeling most sympathy and kinship for those who, through absolutely no fault of their own, must suffer, not just once or twice, but again and again? Of course this elevation of / identification with the "wounded"/flawed hero goes hand in hand with an absolutely detestable portrayal of the members of the servant class as being at their utmost happiest when they are being their most servile and utterly subjugating their own needs, wants, desires, pleasures -- their own selves, in fact -- to the needs of their masters. (Even when they are protecting their masters from their own arrogance, heartlessness, or downright stupidity.)I don't see how the main character, Amir, could possibly be likeable. Amir's battle with Assef, momentous as it is, is not so much him taking a stand because he feels driven to do so or feels that he must. Rather, he acts with very little self-agency at all -- he is more or less merely carried forward into events. (And, moreover, in the end it is Sohrab (Hassan again) who saves him.) I finished the novel resenting Amir, and even more intensely resenting the author for trying to make the reader think she's supposed to care about Amir, more than about anyone else in the story.A couple other points: I'm wondering if one theme of the novel is that there are no definitive happy endings, no single immutable moments of epiphany or redemption. Because Amir's moral "triumph", such as it is, over Assef, is so short-lived. He manages to crash horrifically only a week or two later, when he goes back on his word to Sohrab about his promise not to send him to an orphanage.And lastly, I don't understand why Baba's hypocrisy is not more of a theme. He makes such a point of drilling into his son's head that a lie is a theft of one's right to the truth. His own hipocrisy there is a profound thing, and it's a shame the author doesn't do more with it. Nevertheless, after all the bad things I had to say about it, I do have a couple quotes worth keeping:"Every woman needed a husband. Even if he did silence the song in her." (p.178)"'That's the real Afghanistan, Agha sahib. That's the Afghanistan I know. You? You've always been a tourist here, you just didn't know it.'" (p. 232)=== UPDATE ===I originally posted my review The Kite Runner in February 2008. Since then, my review has generated a very robust response from other Goodreads members. I have responded a couple of times in the comments section, but I realize that by now, the comments section has gotten long enough that some folks may not realize that I have added some clarifications to my review. So, although the extended reply that I posted in the comments section in October 2008 is still available in the comments section, I am re-posting it here, so people don't miss it.I also want to offer my continued thanks to those who have read, liked, and/or comment on my review of The Kite Runner. This kind of back-and-forth conversation on books is exactly why I signed on to Goodreads! I appreciate the feedback, and look forward to engaging in more such discussion. Finally, one more quick reply. One recent commenter asked how I could have given this book only a 1 star rating, if I was so affected by it. As I replied in the comments, the short answer is that I am guided by Goodread's prompts when I rate a book. Two stars is "It was OK;" 1 star is "I didn't like it." While I have praised a few things about the book, the bottom line is, overall, I didn't like it. -- Linda, 22 July 2011Posted 24 October 2008:There have been many comments to my review since I first wrote it, and I thought it might be about time for me to weigh in for a moment.Before I get into my response, I must start off with a great thank you for all those who have felt sufficiently moved (positively or negatively) by my review to comment and respond. I appreciate all the comments, whether I agree with them or not.First of all, I'd like to address the question of whether we're "supposed" to like Amir or not. Yes, I do realize that sometimes writers create and/or focus on a character that the reader is not meant to like. Here, though, the story is clearly meant to be about some kind of redemption -- but I found Amir so distasteful, that I simply wasn't interested in his redemption. The focus of the story was entirely on how Amir's life had been corrupted by the despicable things he'd done - when the things he'd done were entirely part and parcel of the position of power and privilege he occupied over Hassan.Which brings me to my second point, the insufferable current of paternalism that runs throughout the story. The members of the servant and poorer classes are consistently portrayed as saintly, absurdly self-sacrificing, one-dimensional characters. Regardless of what terrible things befall them, they are shown to have nothing but their masters' interests at heart. Granted, it may be unlikely that the powerless would be overtly talking back and setting their masters straight; however, the novel gives no indication that they even have any private wishes of recrimination, or much of a private life, for that matter. Given this portrayal, it is even more difficult for me to muster any interest in Amir's suffering. But to suggest that perhaps we're misinterpreting the servants' subservient attitudes because we approach the story from a different time, place, or culture, is simply to engage in a cultural relativism borne out of -- and perpetuating -- the very same paternalism.To clarify my point, let's look at some comparable examples from US culture. Consider any one of a huge number of films such as Driving Miss Daisy, Clara's Heart, Bagger Vance, or Ghost (all simply continuing a tradition that reaches back to Shirley Temple's days) in which noble servants or similar helpers have absolutely no concern in their lives other than making sure the wealthy people they are serving have happy, fulfilled lives -- while they themselves never seem to have any of their own personal hopes, desires, triumphs, tragedies, or even any hint of a home, family, personal, or romantic life at all. Their total happiness is bound up entirely with serving the lives of their rich counterparts. It is this quality, present throughout Hosseini's book, that bothers me most.In the end, however, a beautifully written story could have overcome these criticisms -- or at the very least, I would have been able to temper or counter my points above with lavish praise for the writing. However, here, again, the novel falls flat. It is not particularly well-written. As some other commenters have also pointed out, the storytelling is quite heavy-handed, and the narrative suffers from implausible plot twists and uncanny coincidences, and a writing style that relies far too heavily on cliches and obvious literary devices.I wish that I could say I liked the book more. To answer [another commenter's] question, I haven't read A Thousand Splendid Suns; I'm afraid I wasn't particularly motivated to do so after my reaction to this one. However, I do believe, as that commenter also suggests, that there is something to be gained from the debate and discussion that the book has inspired.
آرامش پیچاندن پیچ زندگی در پایین ترین حد استسکوت خاموش کردن آن پیچ است.بستن آن است،بستن تمام آنتمام ستارگان آسمان برای کتاب هایی مثل بادبادک باز ، همسایه ها و ... که از واقعیات زندگی مردم و دردهایشان می گویند کم است و توهین آمیزاین پنج ستاره هم به سرنوشت من دچار شده اند و از پس تعریف بادبادک باز بر نمی آینداول جملاتی از کتاب می آورم و بعد به چیزهایی که هنگام خواندن کتاب فکرم را مشغول می کردند خواهم پرداختقبلش بگم که اولین بار در این کتاب بود که اسم هزاره رو از سربازی افغانی شنیدم و اول فکر کردم حتما ناسزا یا فحشی خیلی کثیفی است که !او با تمسخر حسن را با این اسم صدا میزند......بیا فرض کنیم که پدر و مادر بچه زنده نمانده اند.حتی در -این حال اداره مهاجرت فکر می کند بهتر است بچه را به کسی بدهد که مقیم کشور زادگاه اوست.تا میراثش پامال نشودکدام میراث؟ طالبان هر میراثی را که افغانستان داشته از -بین برده.دیدید که با مجسمه عظیم بودا در بامیان چه کردند؟از این عکس وحشتناک تر جمله زیر بودمین.آیا راه بهتری از این برای مرگ افغان ها هست؟اما چیزایی که فکرم را مشغول کردند:شیعه بودن هزاره ها و سنی بودن پشتو هایادمه تو ویکی پدیا و خود کتاب خواندم که پشتوها سنی و هزاره ها شیعه هستند و حتی طالبان در شهر مزار شریف، هزاره ها را به جرم مذهبشون قتل عام کردنداما در کتاب "امیر" که پشتو بود از گذاشتن مهر در نماز می گفت و "حسن" که هزاره بود نمی گذاشت پنج نمازش قضا شود حسن هيچوقت پنج وعده نمازش قضا نمي شد،حتي وقتي بازي مي كرديم،عذرخواهي ميكرد،از چاه حياط آب مي كشيد،وضو مي گرفت و توي كلبه ناپديد ميشدامیر هم با خود می گوید:در حقیقت یادم نمی آمد که آخرین بار کی سر به مُهر گذاشته امهمانطور که می دانید سنی ها مهر نمی گذارد و شیعیان هم فقط سه نماز را بصورت حاضره می خوانندنمیدانم نویسنده از این تضاد میخواست نکته ای بگوید یا فقط اشتباهی مرتکب شده بود:چشمان سبز هزاره هایادمه دوستی می گفت چشمان سبز یکی از مشخصات ظاهری بیشتر آریایی ها بودهخالد حسینی علاقه زیادی به گفتن درباره چشمان سبز هزاره ها داشت ...از مادر حسن گرفته تا زن حسن و می گویند هزاره ها بخاطر چشمان بادامی شاید از نسل مغول ها باشند اما شاید همین چشمان سبز دلیل بر رد این نظریه باشد و نشان بدهد که این مردمان جزو کهن ترین مردمان سرزمین افغانستان باشندحالا اصلا حساب کنیم قدمتشان به 100 سال هم نرسد و مذهبشان هم متفاوت با دیگران باشدحالا به این دلایل مسخره، باید نسل آنها را نابود کرد!؟چون مثه ما نماز نمی خوانند و خون ملتی بیگانه در رگ هایشان در گردش است؟بادبادک باز و همسایه هاگاهی نا خودآگاه از خودم می پرسیدم چرا بادبادک "همسایه ها" بر فراز آسمان جهان ندرخشید؟اگر بخواهم یکی از این دو کتاب را بار دوم بخوانم مطمئنم "همسایه ها" ی احمد محمود خواهد بودعلتی که فک میکنم چرا "همسایه ها" به اندازه "بادبادک باز" مشهور نشددر همسایه ها ،احمد محمود آنقدر جسارت دارد که از حقیقت کاملا واقعی بنویسد و مراعات انگلیسی و آخوند و رژیم شاهنشاهی را نکندو حتی گاهی چهره خوب کمونیست را هم نشان بدهد و هم چهره بدشان رااما خالد حسینی از ظلم روسیه به افغانستان می نویسد که خوشایند آمریکاست و فقط از تاثیر خوب مذهب می گوید یعنی مذهبی ها را نمی رنجاند:و در مور آمریکا هم می گویدآمريكا رودي بود خروشان و بي اعتنا به گذشته. مي توانستم در اين رود شناور شوم و گناهانم را به ژرفايش بسپارم و بگذارم آبهايش مرا به دوردست ببرد . جايي كه نه ارواحي باشد و نه خاطراتي و نه گناهاني . اگر چيز ديگري هم نبود، فقط براي همين خصوصيت با آغوش باز از آمريكا استقبال مي كردم!!!انگار برای مشهور شدن سریع کتاب، باید طرف یکی را گرفتنتیجه: هردو کتاب عالی بودند امیر آخرش دوید و از نظرم ناپدید شد ولی صدای کوبیدن کاسه ها در دستان "ناصر ابدی" را در حیات زندان را هنوز می شنوممی دانم تفنگ را بسویش نشانه رفته اند ولی دوس ندارم از زدن دست بکشد:گاهی می خواهم فریاد بزنمبزن ناصر، باز بزن...این بار اگر شکست بخوریم بدترش را به سرمان خواهند آورد
What do You think about The Kite Runner (2004)?
Speechless when I'm finished this book...Cried when read Hassan's letters to AmirAdored what Hassan and Baba did to AmirExcited during my journey to KabulConfused when I want to make a reviewHoalah....Buku ini bikin aku nangis tengah malam, bikin aku bangun kesiangan, bikin mataku bengkak pagi-pagi, bikin gak konsen saat kerja...dan bikin aku bingung mau ngereview apa...dah menguras airmata, menguras emosi dan menguras konsentrasi...karena begitu membaca gak bisa naruh lagi bukunya....pikiran selalu ke buku ini, gak ada dalam dua hari selesai ini buku tapi mikirinnya lebih dari seminggu.Bukan mengenai Superhero, bukan mengenai kisah cinta-cinta jaman sekarang...tapi mengenai seorang Amir yang mempunyai banyak kekurangan dan kesalahan dan harus menebusnya saat dia menemukan cintanya....ehmmm.Dah untuk sahabat-sahabatku, hanya satu dari buku ini : For you,a thousand times over!
—Roos
So I started Kite Runner two nights ago after finishing Blink. It took me a week or so with Blink since I wasn’t very enthralled, making it easier to put it down at night when it was my bed time.Kite Runner, I started over a long weekend and could not for the life of me put it down. I was so hooked I even found myself reading Bing’s copy when I was over at Deesh and Bing’s this weekend playing an invigorating (and might I add victorious) game of girls vs. boys Cranium and then Cheez Geek (Cheez Geek one of the 3 new things this week). The Kite Runner. Must be the most disturbing, haunting book I’ve yet to read. The close seconds would be A Child Called It and Night. They both broke my heart but not in the way Kite Runner did. I was in tears maybe four separate times during the past two days it took me to finish the novel. A coming of age story with pre–war Afganhistan and the post-Taliban arrival as the backdrop of the story. I tend to take note of books I know my dad will enjoy and as I read them I jot down notes on post its for my dad and flag the relevant pages. I flagged the story about Amir and Hassen tying bumble bees with string and letting them fly a bit before yanking them back. My dad used to do exactly the same thing to dragonflies when he was younger growing up in Vietnam. Then as I got deeper and deeper into the book and found myself tearing up, I started to doubt whether my dad, a vet would enjoy going down memory lane. I took breaks and called Mary Ellen to relay the story and basically to pull me out a little. Relief. The refugee stories seem to make vivid my parents’ stories post Vietnam. I kept imagining I was reading about my dad. Funny how war is pretty much the same no matter where it is. I usually don’t read war books so this is somewhat new to me. Before Kite Runner, the only books I’ve read with war in the background were Anne Frank’s diary, The Hiding Place, and Night. All heart breaking in their own respect but I never felt so invested in events unfolding with each turn of the page as I did with Kite Runner.So aside from making me cry so easily, Hosseini also managed to make me laugh several times out loud. One scene when Amir, in such a detached manner, thinks to himself as someone is experiencing an eye injury, “Oh that’s vitreous fluid.. I read about that, that’s vitreous fluid.” I used to work for an ophthalmologist. So here are a few quotes I jotted down into my reading journal…“There is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft..”“If there’s a God out there, then I would hope he has more important things to attend to than my drinking Scotch or eating pork.”“Children aren’t coloring books. You don’t get to fill them with your favorite colors.” “We plucked the stinger off a bee and tied a string around the poor thing and yanked it back every time it took flight.” “John Wayne didn’t really speak Farsi and he wasn’t Iranian.” “And the beggars were mostly children now, thin and grim-faced, some no older than five or six. They sat in the laps of their burque-clad mothers alongside gutters at busy street corners… Hardly any of them sat with an adult male- the war had made fathers a rare commodity in Afghanistan.”“Returning to Kabul was like running into an old, forgotten friend, and seeing that life hadn’t been good to him, that he’d become homeless and destitute.”‘I’m so afraid…. Because I’m so profoundly happy, Dr Rasul. Happiness like this is frightening. They only let you be this happy if they’re preparing to take something from you.” I wrote the last one down because that’s how I feel when I feel very happy. I get extra wary of freak accidents.“I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded, not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up and slipping away unannounced in t
—Linda
Before I started this book, I distinctively remember running my hands over the cover, over the embossed letters that read, The Kite Runner, with not a thought spared but just a sense of hope and anticipation.Now, after I've finished it, I'm once again running my hands over them.Those letters that read, The Kite Runner. Those letters that mean a lot more than what they seemed to a few days ago.Yes.Oh. No.Yes.Oh. Oh.This is just a tiny fraction of "Oh"s that I felt during my journey through this beauty and beast of a book. And each of these differ in what they incited, invoked, in me. Yet all so powerful and painful and grudgingly piquant. If you want a psychoanalysis of the characters and a dissection of the plot lines, with a thousand different adjectives for the mesmerizingly written prose, you're at the wrong place. Seriously. This is just going to be me, and my flailing traitorous emotions.So, What do I feel ? Beauty. Yes, I feel beauty.Marred with reality, with the wonder and ugliness, with all of it. And I feel love.Love towards this book. Amir and Hassan, the Sultans of Kabul.Towards everything that should not have gone wrong. And I feel hatred.Hatred against what happened.What shouldn't have happened. No.And at everything that did go wrong. I feel horror, that is not macabre, but so vicious, so cruel, it hurts. An undercurrent of anguish that haunts you wherever you go. And I feel love again, with all it's highs and lows and everything in between. For you, A thousand times over. And I feel a lot more.That I'm just not able to articulate.And I didn't cry.Maybe because, in order to cry there must be frissons of lachrymosity rocking me. But when even happiness forecasts heartbreak, when the whole book is a shadow of melancholy cloaking me, wistfulness following me, crying is a reprieve that I feel this book has denied me. Why ? Even though there are no tears, I know that I'm as close to crying, bawling and sobbing inconsolably all at once than I've ever been for I'm a turmoil inside.
—Basuhi
