\nThis book got such positive reviews and so much publicity that I had to see for myself. Having read it, I have to say it was OK but not particularly impressive.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe book is written in first person, from the point of view of Amir, a young Afghan. Amir grows up in a prosperous family in 1970s Kabul, together with Hassan, the illiterate son of the family’s servant. Both boys are motherless, and they spend their entire childhood together. Hassan remains unshakeably loving and loyal, even though Amir sometimes cannot help treating him as an underling. Amir struggles to earn his father’s love and never quite succeeds. Then war forces them into exile in the US, where Amir’s father loses some of his power and influence, even though they both still remain close to the Afghan community. An old friend, now dying, asks Amir to return to Afghanistan, and various complications ensue.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe main weakness of this whole story is that it isn’t a cohesive story. It’s the union of three disparate parts: first the childhood memories, then the years in exile, and then the trip back. And there’s not enough glue to hold them together: they all have different tone, and the links between them are weak.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe first section of the book, the childhood in Afghanistan, was interesting and beautiful, even though some events were rather predictable. But when Amir moves to the US the story changes abruptly into something rather ordinary, with a love story, a death, some unexpected news etc. This part is far less interesting: events slow down, and Amir doesn’t have anything particularly interesting to say.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe third part, the return to Afghanistan, is different again. Now there are action scenes and danger. Finally, pointless complications are introduced at the very end, that would have made sense if this was an autobiography, but don’t work in a fictional context.\n<\/p>\n
\nThese three sections are sort of linked by some events and facts, but some of these links seem rather contrived, the way people in soap operas find out that their husband’s twin did not die in childhood after all but is now back with a vengeance, and so on. And just like soap operas, the book manages to combine improbability with predictability.\n<\/p>\n
\nSome reviewers have wondered whether the book was written with Hollywood in mind. Others have questioned whether perhaps Hosseini tried writing just about his childhood, and was then told by a publisher that he needed a plot, that the book needed to make a “point”. Either of these would explain the odd mixture in this book.\n<\/p>\n
\nThe writing itself was average at best, with lots of clichés and the almost-obligatory sprinklings of farsi words in all dialogue.\n<\/p>\n
\nIt was interesting to read about pre-war Afghanistan, but I can’t say the book gave me any real insight into the culture or history of Afghanistan. Despite being set in Afghanistan, the book felt American. My guess is that the book will mainly appeal to readers who want “riveting dramas of betrayal and salvation”, with the exoticism of Afghanistan adding some extra spice. Mass-market entertainment.\n<\/p>\n
\nAmazon US<\/a>, Amazon UK<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" This book got such positive reviews and so much publicity that I had to see for myself. Having read it, I have to say it was OK but not particularly impressive. The book is written in first person, from the point of view of Amir, a young Afghan. Amir grows up in a prosperous family […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-715","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/715","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=715"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/715\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=715"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=715"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.toomik.net\/helen\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=715"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}