...and thanks for all the fish

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

After I finished A Thousand Splendid Suns (ATSS) last week, I started to tell my grandmother, who introduced me to Hosseini when she lent me her copy of The Kite Runner a few years ago, how good, yet upsetting, it was. She then told me that she had brought it with her for her stay at my house for Christmas, which I took as a delightful coincidence since we hadn’t spoken about the book and it’s been out since March. The next day I found out that Nick’s grandmother had also just finished reading it, which I found even more incredible. If there was a required reading list for the women of the world, this book would top the list for this year.

So Hosseini likes to tie his stories up in a nice, neat bow at the end. Is it such a horrible thing for a heartbreaking story to end a little bit happily for his characters? I don’t think so, but I guess some people need nothing but realistic situations when they read. Personally, I really need his stories to end with some sort of light at the end of the tunnel moment because if they didn’t, I would be left depressed about the world and humanity in general. And that’s no way to live your life. If the stories aren’t true to the normal outcomes of people’s lives in Afghanistan and the Middle East, they at least could be true for some of the population. So I find no fault in it, and if you can’t get passed this minor thing, then why bother reading anyway?

One of the major points of Hosseini’s stories is to show that there is a common thread of decency in people, no matter what country you live in. Sure, there are people who are selfish and greedy and downright evil, but these people don’t comprise entire societies. And societies shouldn’t be judged based on the worst citizens. I guess would include the world’s current view of the US, thanks to G Dub and the Christian Maniacs who are attempting to take over the world with their insane science-hating brainwashing. The point is that there should be some hope in everyone that the entire world isn’t going to shit because of the crazies who are currently in control. That there is some sense of service and good in people that will prohibit the world from being completely destroyed.

What ATSS exposes, if you have been completely oblivious to the outside world for the past six years, is the horrible injustice being imposed on women in the Middle East, and specifically in Afghanistan. These women, who aren’t allowed to leave the house without their husband, who must completely cover themselves in a burqa that leaves only their eyes exposed, who are beaten and abused as if they weren’t even human at all, who are prohibited from seeking out education, are, I’m sure, struggling every day to try and make it to the next. Of course not every single woman in the Middle East is forced to put up with a controlling and abusive husband, but it’s not a rare situation either. One of the main character's mother sets it straight from her early on in the book: their lives as Afghan women are revolved entirely on the ability to endure all of the crap that gets thrown at them.

This book left me thankful and appreciative for the life I have, which was especially relevant for this time of year (in addition to the annual viewing of It’s A Wonderful Life, which makes me cry harder with each time I see it). This book really made me appreciate the privileges and opportunities that my family and society have given me. I never had to worry that my parents would force me to marry some man (and most often a man much older than me) when I was 15 or 16, I never had to worry that I wouldn’t have enough to eat or drink, that I wouldn’t have a bed to sleep in every night, that I wouldn’t be able to go to high school let alone college and learn and read and have conversations about things other than what my husband wanted for dinner. These are obviously things that some women, and people in general, have to deal with in this country, but I guess, like many others, I most often take these things for granted. Every winter morning when I walk the ten minutes from 30th Street Station to work and pass the men sleeping on the sidewalk, I am increasingly thankful for my huge comforter goose-down coat and the warm house I just came from and the shoes on my feet and the shower I have access to every day and for food and everything else I am spoiled enough to have. I don’t think there is a day that goes by that I don’t complain about having to live with my parents, but I am so thankful that it is an option and they didn’t change the locks after I left for college. I am especially thankful that women in this country are allowed to have a purpose in life other than being a baby machine. For someone’s sole purpose in life to be birthing and raising babies has to be the most depressing thing ever. How are you supposed to properly raise your children if you aren’t allowed to be educated? How are your children supposed to use you as a role model if you aren’t allowed to walk down the street by yourself, or even without being completely covered up as if your natural physical appearance is indecent?

After reading The Kite Runner, I was sure that ATSS would be Cry-fest Part II, but, much to the relief of the people who ride the R3 West Trenton, I actually only cried twice (although the one time I had to stop reading because I thought I might break out into sobs). ATSS was more upsetting and hard to read than tear-enducing, but I think it was just as influential and enlightening as The Kite Runner. And it’s actually a really nice story about women, friendship, hardship, and the good in people. I couldn't stop reading it. I even skipped my train ride home naps so I could read and many times almost missed my stop because I was so engrossed in it. So that’s why I recommend (surprise!) that you get A Thousand Splendid Suns for everyone on your holiday gift list who you haven’t already gotten gifts for (and you must really not care too much about them if you haven’t gotten them a gift at this point). Or buy it on sale for everyone who will be on your gift list next year. Or buy it for everyone you know just because—for the good of humanity. The world doesn’t have to be as gloomy and depressing as it looks on the news (especially if you live in Philadelphia (see first rumber (hello, shameless plug!))).

Up next: The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon (On a recent adventure in Old City, Nick and I passed a girl who was reading The Yiddish Policeman's Union while walking down the street. She was smiling to herself at whatever she was reading, and after we passed her Nick says that I could be friends with that girl because we are both crazy book people just as I was about to say that I used to be friends with that girl in high school and that she is slightly crazy. Ahhh life.)