Monday, January 19, 2015

The Goldfinch

The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt; © 2013, Little Brown and Company

The Goldfinch has met with great public acclaim and won the coveted Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 2014. It is a 771-page novel that is a force to be reckoned with in its sweeping narrative that ranges from New York, to Las Vegas, and even takes a detour to Amsterdam for its action-packed culmination. Tartt has indepth descriptions, incorporates beautiful prose and draws the reader in with her tale of Theo Decker and his misadventures around the globe.

But did I like the book? Well, that is a harder question to answer.

The plot of the book is interesting. At 13, Theo has begun to hang out with an undesirable crowd. He gets in trouble at school and has to face his teacher with his mother in tow. Before they get to school, they take refuge from the rain in an art gallery where the world famous "Goldfinch" painting is on display. As they have time, Theo's mother insists on seeing it. This twist of fate lands Theo on a turbulent path which it seems he will never shake.

A bomb explodes, killing many people, including Theo's mother. Theo's father had abandoned the family a year before, effectively leaving young Theo an orphan. In desperation, he reaches out to wealthy family friends, who take him in. Life could have seen an upswing, but Theo's father materializes and drags him to Las Vegas to a life of drinking, drugs and a decided lack of parenting.

What polarizes Theo in his drama is the "Goldfinch". In the aftermath of the bomb, he steals the painting and carries it with him. He becomes its protector, even as it is a noose around his neck. It is a stolen possession after all and the authorities want it back.

The story moves back to New York, but I was already struggling at this point. For every new twist, Tartt goes into incredible detail. She expounds on Theo and his friend Boris' drug trips. When Theo moves back to New York and struggles with direction, we get pages of his struggles. I get that he is an addict suffering from PTSD, but I stopped caring about poor Theo's welfare when he walked for blocks and blocks navel-gazing. Every scene had so much detail and, dare I say, it became boring.

But it won the Pulitzer Prize, I hear you say. Yes, it did. And Tartt is a great writer. I don't think I could write better than her by half. But I just wish someone had edited her by half! Or at least a quarter. The book was good, but lost me in its excessive descriptions.

And the ending? I won't spoil it, as I'm sure some of you will read it based on the merits it has won on so many fronts alone, but I did not feel it at all. It didn't gel with the previous flow. I didn't believe Theo in his wrap-up. And as much as I liked her work too, it reminded me of an Ayn Rand diatribe that went on too long.

Kind of like this book review? Yes well, I won't make any money for my opinion today, but that is my two cents worth regardless.

Sorry Donna; good writing, but too long.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini, © 2003, Anchor Canada

In 1975, Amir is 12-years-old. He lives in an affluent neighbourhood in Kabul with his father Baba, their servant Ali, and his son Hassan. Both Amir and Hassan's mothers are gone; Amir's during his childbirth and Hassan's fled as soon as he's born. The boys are a year apart, but despite Ali and Hassan being servants, Baba treats both boys like sons. Much to Amir's occasional annoyance.

While Amir and Hassan lead a mostly charmed life, despite their difference in stations, their world is on the brink of catastrophic change. In 1973, the monarchy is overthrown. Russians are set to overthrow the government and turn Afghanistan into a war zone. Everything is thrown into question. But it is the vile act of bullies after a local kite fight that is the ultimate act that challenges Amir and Hassan's friendship. A friendship now earmarked for failure.

As Hosseini weaves his tale, questions of friendship and loyalty are held up for inspection. Can true friendship exist between different castes of people (Amir is Pashtun and Hassan is a lower caste Hazara)? What would you be willing to do for someone? The biggest question raised though is can you go back and make things right when you feel you have failed someone in the past.

Amir carries the weight of his disloyalty to his friend long after him and Baba flee the war in Afghanistan for the more peaceful climes of California. A phone call many years later gives him the opportunity to go back in time and make a change though. Is he strong enough to face the awful memories that plagued him from the fateful day of the kite fight in 1975? Can he repair the damage done?

If you haven't read this book already, it is well worth the read. You won't find easy answers to your questions, but you just might find that "there is a way to be good again." Forgive yourself your demons and dive in to Hosseini's excellent first novel.

Monday, January 5, 2015

After Midnight

~ click 

The light turns on.
Wind howls outside my window
 - pain
The clock strikes,
after midnight?
Heedless,
the words march on
demand their ink on the page

Sleep!

the mind cries,
but when the light 
is extinguished
the words 
keep marching on...

~ click


Image Source: RGB stock, saavem

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Dancing Flames


everyone loves fire
like moths to a blazing sun
watch the dancing flames

Thursday, December 11, 2014

ghosts

The ghosts come from my closet
the door swings open wide
voices fill the airwaves.
I must take it in stride

I didn't know the door was shut
I never knew it slammed
upon so many faces
til suddenly I'm deprogrammed

Now time's a funny object
It's given me some gifts
I must decide which are welcome
and which ones to set adrift

Do they all come wrapped in paper
present everlasting truth
or do some hide secret messages
to uncover like a sleuth?

As history slides still further
I feel it yet inside
it's left a permanent mark
the scars I can't abide

Doubt crosses many borders
I grapple one on one
with ghosts who stand in front of me
and wish this had never begun




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