I read "Life of Pi" this week, finally completing a book I've been told a million times that I must read.
It is an interesting book, its tone irreverent and conversational. My favorite moments were ones of humor. When Pi Patel changes his mind about Richard Parker getting onto the life boat, I laughed out loud. I also liked the vivid imagery and the philosophy Pi develops regarding animal behavior (including his own). The structure of the novel-- namely that it is a story within a story-- is not often seen, and it is done exceptionally well by Yann Martel.
I had been told the end of the book was a surprise, was, in fact, a reason to read the book. Perhaps because my expectations were so high, I was a bit let down. There was something to Pi's story that was fantastic, and I did not want that tainted by the real world. Maybe part of me wanted him to remain on the boat with R.P. Or for there to be some intricately tied ending (after all, Pi reveres endings). But the end did not satisfy me. Still, I am glad I read it, and it was an enjoyable read.
I am starting "Empire of the Soul" by Paul William Roberts-- another book about India. This is a travelogue, essentially, and it comes very highly recommended by an Indian friend, so my expectations are high. I'll keep you posted.
Happy reading!
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
The Last Lecture
In addition to finishing "A Thousand Splendid Suns," I also started and finished "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. For those of you who have not heard Randy's story, he was a wildly successful computer science professor at Carnegie Mellon University, and, at age forty-six (I believe), he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and given 3-6 months to live. "The Last Lecture" refers to his last lecture at CMU, given shortly after his diagnosis. The book ties in with the lecture itself, providing a little more background information and giving the lecture (which you can watch at thelastlecture.com) a narrative format.
Randy Pausch chose to live even as he died. He got his affairs in order, as they say, but he also made the most of every moment he had. He recorded his love for his children in words and in video of himself playing with them. He cemented his beautiful marriage. He made visible his philosophies on life, many of which occurred to him on the precipice of his death. At the heart of his philosophies is the importance of striving for and achieving childhood dreams. Perhaps more importantly, he describes the existential power in each of us to live full and realized lives.
I first found Randy Pausch this summer when a friend sent me a link to youtube videos of the actual "Last Lecture." The book is a lovely companion and a great reminder that it is never too late to dream big and to make those dreams reality.
Randy Pausch chose to live even as he died. He got his affairs in order, as they say, but he also made the most of every moment he had. He recorded his love for his children in words and in video of himself playing with them. He cemented his beautiful marriage. He made visible his philosophies on life, many of which occurred to him on the precipice of his death. At the heart of his philosophies is the importance of striving for and achieving childhood dreams. Perhaps more importantly, he describes the existential power in each of us to live full and realized lives.
I first found Randy Pausch this summer when a friend sent me a link to youtube videos of the actual "Last Lecture." The book is a lovely companion and a great reminder that it is never too late to dream big and to make those dreams reality.
A Thousand Splendid Suns
I was apprehensive when I began "A Thousand Splendid Suns." Sure, I hefted praise on the reviews of the book so that my Read For Yourself students would read it without complaint, but I had my own reservations. I read part of "The Kite Runner" this summer, back when I was preparing to teach in Florida. I didn't enjoy the book, and, in fact, I never finished it. Besides that experience, I had just finished "Shantaram", part of which is set in Afghanistan, and I harbored some distaste for the war depicted by the author.
But "A Thousand Splendid Suns" began compellingly and progressed quickly. The female characters are characters in conflict, battling lives that seem or are preordained by man or God. The story has a decidedly morose emotional tone with moments of calm or congeniality-- moments of happiness, as Mariam describes them as she takes her final walk. It is a story fraught with brutal violence against women and, indeed, against humanity. It is raw and strangely picturesque, in so much that the reader can vividly imagine the destruction described by Hosseini. In fact, the destruction was real and may be again; Afghanistan, like its Middle Eastern neighbors, is a country still in turmoil, religious and cultural wars persistently waged beneath (and above) the surface.
I am left longing for peace, as I close the book, its soft cover bearing lovely words about the story contained within. I am left hoping that hope and peace can reign; that violence and hatred can be obliterated; that men, women, and children can embrace the country of Afghanistan with its rich and troubled history. I am left wishing for a permanent solution so that these characters-- their real incarnations and variations thereof-- can have more moments of happiness and love.
Bagels & Books is April 7 at 7am in the LFHS library. Read this fabulous book, and join us for lively conversation.
Happy reading!
But "A Thousand Splendid Suns" began compellingly and progressed quickly. The female characters are characters in conflict, battling lives that seem or are preordained by man or God. The story has a decidedly morose emotional tone with moments of calm or congeniality-- moments of happiness, as Mariam describes them as she takes her final walk. It is a story fraught with brutal violence against women and, indeed, against humanity. It is raw and strangely picturesque, in so much that the reader can vividly imagine the destruction described by Hosseini. In fact, the destruction was real and may be again; Afghanistan, like its Middle Eastern neighbors, is a country still in turmoil, religious and cultural wars persistently waged beneath (and above) the surface.
I am left longing for peace, as I close the book, its soft cover bearing lovely words about the story contained within. I am left hoping that hope and peace can reign; that violence and hatred can be obliterated; that men, women, and children can embrace the country of Afghanistan with its rich and troubled history. I am left wishing for a permanent solution so that these characters-- their real incarnations and variations thereof-- can have more moments of happiness and love.
Bagels & Books is April 7 at 7am in the LFHS library. Read this fabulous book, and join us for lively conversation.
Happy reading!
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Shantaram- the end.
I just finished SHANTARAM. For those of you who've seen any of my status messages on Facebook, you know this is a long time coming. It took me over a month to finish this book, reading at regular intervals, and while I freely admit that I'm a terribly slow reader, that trait really only applies when the story is compelling enough for me to stop, fold down the corner of a page, and write or think for a while before moving on. SHANTARAM did that for me.
I'm left feeling a few things. Firstly, I am devastated at the death of one of the story's central, uplifting characters. His death was important, I guess, but it was not necessary, and I feel a bit betrayed by Gregory David Roberts for taking this man's life too soon.
Secondly, I feel a bit conflicted, and it's because at the heart of this complex story is a long list of dichotomies. Love and Hate are central, as are Guilt and Freedom. Peace and War find their places among the pages, and Truth and Shadow do too. Beauty is contrasted with Squalor and Ugliness and Impurity and, again, Hate. And a sense of God mingles with constant Godlessness. It's truly one existential and philosophic hurdle after another, and the journey upon which the narrator-- known primarily as Linbaba-- embarks is fraught with his pain. He lost his life, his family, his soul, his sense of self and his sense of right. He is a criminal with kindness and love for people. He moves from one emotion to the next, riding this internal roller coaster which manifests itself, at times, in the physical realm, allowing him to do things most people can not imagine, much less plan and implement.
In the end, he has Truth and Freedom and Friendship. In the end, he goes back to the slum that served as his home for much of the book, and he drinks chai with his Indian friends, and jokes and laughs and talks with them in Hindi and Marathi and English. In the end, he returns to the one home he has left. There, in the slum, holding the child of his dead friend, surrounded by the destitute but HOPEFUL, he finds Beauty.
When I am less foggy and more astute, I'll pepper this post with quotes, my attempt to capture some of the Beauty and Truth that touched me. For now, I'll leave you with this one:
"Looking at the people, listening to the breathing, heaving, laughing, struggling music of the slum, all around me, I remembered one of Khaderbhai's favourite phrases. Every human heartbeat, he'd said many times, is a universe of possibilities. And it seemed to me that I finally understood exactly what he'd meant. He'd been trying to tell me that every human will has the power to transform its fate." (932)
I'm left feeling a few things. Firstly, I am devastated at the death of one of the story's central, uplifting characters. His death was important, I guess, but it was not necessary, and I feel a bit betrayed by Gregory David Roberts for taking this man's life too soon.
Secondly, I feel a bit conflicted, and it's because at the heart of this complex story is a long list of dichotomies. Love and Hate are central, as are Guilt and Freedom. Peace and War find their places among the pages, and Truth and Shadow do too. Beauty is contrasted with Squalor and Ugliness and Impurity and, again, Hate. And a sense of God mingles with constant Godlessness. It's truly one existential and philosophic hurdle after another, and the journey upon which the narrator-- known primarily as Linbaba-- embarks is fraught with his pain. He lost his life, his family, his soul, his sense of self and his sense of right. He is a criminal with kindness and love for people. He moves from one emotion to the next, riding this internal roller coaster which manifests itself, at times, in the physical realm, allowing him to do things most people can not imagine, much less plan and implement.
In the end, he has Truth and Freedom and Friendship. In the end, he goes back to the slum that served as his home for much of the book, and he drinks chai with his Indian friends, and jokes and laughs and talks with them in Hindi and Marathi and English. In the end, he returns to the one home he has left. There, in the slum, holding the child of his dead friend, surrounded by the destitute but HOPEFUL, he finds Beauty.
When I am less foggy and more astute, I'll pepper this post with quotes, my attempt to capture some of the Beauty and Truth that touched me. For now, I'll leave you with this one:
"Looking at the people, listening to the breathing, heaving, laughing, struggling music of the slum, all around me, I remembered one of Khaderbhai's favourite phrases. Every human heartbeat, he'd said many times, is a universe of possibilities. And it seemed to me that I finally understood exactly what he'd meant. He'd been trying to tell me that every human will has the power to transform its fate." (932)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Shantaram
I have not posted for a couple of weeks, though I have certainly been reading. I am deep in the thick of "Shantaram" by Gregory David Roberts. It is a semi-autobiographical novel about a man who escapes from an Australian jail and lives in exile in India (though, at the moment, he has joined in the war in Afghanistan).
The book is packed with philosophies about freedom and friendship and hatred and love. It is completely fascinating to me (I am on an India kick at the moment), and I have become emotionally connected to the characters and the places described in almost overwhelmingly honest detail. For those of you who have seen "Slumdog Millionaire", the novel would explain some of the idiosyncrasies of Bombay (now Mumbai) culture and society.
I will write more when I finish the book. I will also share some of the quotes I found particularly thought-provoking.
Until then, happy reading! And please post with information about your most recent reads.
The book is packed with philosophies about freedom and friendship and hatred and love. It is completely fascinating to me (I am on an India kick at the moment), and I have become emotionally connected to the characters and the places described in almost overwhelmingly honest detail. For those of you who have seen "Slumdog Millionaire", the novel would explain some of the idiosyncrasies of Bombay (now Mumbai) culture and society.
I will write more when I finish the book. I will also share some of the quotes I found particularly thought-provoking.
Until then, happy reading! And please post with information about your most recent reads.
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