More of a series of nine interconnected stories following a series of interconnected lives than a straight novel, this third book by Hosseini takes onMore of a series of nine interconnected stories following a series of interconnected lives than a straight novel, this third book by Hosseini takes on some heavy themes around family and manages to deliver without drifting into mawkishness or melodrama or easy answers. The book spans 1952-2002, mostly centering on a villa in Kabul whose inhabitants are connected to lives throughout the stories.
It would require a meticulous diagram to map all the relationships as they spiderweb out to France, California, and Greece. But the book isn't a clever exercise in schematic plotting, it creates real characters whose lives are rich and complicated and have to make difficult choices. At times one feels like maybe it almost gets away from Hosseini, as another voice is introduced, but each is compelling and distinct. What emerges are empathetic portraits of individual lives affected by poverty, politics, war, migration, as well as interior emotions....more
I'm always game for some translated genre fiction, and so picked up this Korean thriller with mild hopes for something interesting. It is not. The stoI'm always game for some translated genre fiction, and so picked up this Korean thriller with mild hopes for something interesting. It is not. The story opens with our 25-year-old obviously unreliable narrator covered in blood and no memory of what happened the night before. Did he kill his overbearing mother the night before? Where was his adoptive brother? Why is his Aunt calling over and over? This and other information is drip-dripped to the reader in tediously paced detail. Meanwhile, it's clear that there's some crucial backstory that the reader will just have to wait for. But by the time it's delivered deep into the book, I had both lost all interest and already worked out the narrator's deal. For a story in which a killer is scrambling to cover up their crimes as the police poke around, it's incredibly boring....more
I picked this up because I'd been meaning to read a book by Apostol for a while, and I knew nothing about the Philippine-American War, other than it wI picked this up because I'd been meaning to read a book by Apostol for a while, and I knew nothing about the Philippine-American War, other than it was a very one-sided, brutal, and largely forgotten moment of history. The themes of doubling, identity, past and present, colonizer and colonized, cascade throughout what is a rather jumbled narrative. The story unfolds through two present-day protagonists, an American filmmaker who is also the daughter of a famous filmmaker (I kept thinking of Sofia Coppola) who is visiting the Philippines to research a project she is working on about a 1901 massacre. She has hired a local translator/fixer (whose background seems not dissimilar to that of the author), who carries an alternate view of what the script should be.
The story then toggles back to 1901 and the village where American forces are set up and trying to suppress the Philippine forces seeking independence. And here we again have two sets of narrators -- one an American bluestocking photographer, the other a local teacher. But are these actual events, or are these film scripts? And why do the chapters bear non-sequential numbers? There are also parts that flashback to the 1970s, when the filmmaker was a little girl, following her mother around the world while her father made his films.
The prose is quite stylish and dexterous, but the staccato structure kind of gets in the way. I would have preferred a more conventional narrative -- although I suspect the whole point was to highlight the mirroring of past atrocities with present. So while I didn't fully enjoy this, I'll definitely check out another of her books....more
The title of this slim book comes from a story from Persian folklore, about a magic stone that absorbs the suffering of the person who speaks its woesThe title of this slim book comes from a story from Persian folklore, about a magic stone that absorbs the suffering of the person who speaks its woes to it, and then explodes, freeing the person from their trauma (an outcome some patients doubtlessly yearn for from their therapists). Here, the legend is recast in the wake of the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan (or, as the book says at the outset "somewhere in Afghanistan or elsewhere" just as easily be set in any number of times and places), as a woman shelters in a stark home, attending to her coma-stricken husband, who has been shot in the neck.
It's almost like a lengthy one-act monologue, as the woman talks to her husband in language that shifts from imploring to cajoling to mocking to ranting. With him unable to speak or react, and their two young children installed at her aunt's house, she is free to speak as she never has before. At times she is aghast at her freedom of expression, talking explicitly of sex -- the mostly bad and ugly, but a little good. (Rahimi wrote this book in French, and in an interview he once said that he could never have written it in his first language, Dari, as he would feel culturally constricted.) The reader comes to understand that the country is in the grip of internecine war (as in his longer novel "The Curse of Dostoyevsky"). And there are a few interludes, such as when some other fighters come through the house, and a stamming teenager comes by several times. But for the most part, it's almost entirely the woman's one-sided dialogue that dominates.
I've read all five of Rahimi's books that are available in English and I suppose it's no surprise that this would be the one that won a major prize (France's Prix Goncourt). It's probably the most accessible in the sense that it delivers what a Western audience expects (a woman oppressed in a patriarchal society), along with the easy satisfaction of revenge (various secrets are revealed), and the frisson of the forbidden (explicit sex talk!). For me, it was a little one-note, but it would be interesting to see it staged as a play. The author is also a filmmaker and he adapted the book into a film, so I might check that out at some point....more
Not sure what I was expecting from this, but I was left underwhelmed. The story opens with a Tokyo food deliverywoman getting groped and then taking oNot sure what I was expecting from this, but I was left underwhelmed. The story opens with a Tokyo food deliverywoman getting groped and then taking on ten yakuza minions in a brawl, all of which leads to her being forced to be the bodyguard for the yakuza boss's daughter. What follows is a pretty straightforward bodyguard/protectee relationship tale (the girl is even referred to as "princess" for much of the story). One aspect that's not really clear except on the back cover is that this is taking place in 1979. There's also a subplot about the girl's mother, who apparently ran off years ago with the boss's most deadly minion.
The bodyguard has a mysterious backstory -- raised in the mountains by her grandfather, loves violence, seems to be able to heal quickly, and much is made of her massive physique (although at one point she is described as 5' 6", 175 pounds, which destroyed my mental image of the character). There's the implication of the supernatural, and the invocation of the legend of Baba Yaga, but nothing explicit ever tips things explicitly into the otherworldly. There is, however, a bit of a gimmick to the story -- and while I guess it has the potential to be impactful for readers, I never really cared too much about any of these exceedingly thinly drawn characters to be sucked into the twist. I had more of a "Huh, I guess that's neat" and shrug reaction to it -- I'm not entirely sure it really makes any sense, but I also don't care enough to flip back through the book to check.
On the plus side, the writing does a very good job of describing hand-to-hand fights, which is really hard to do. It is also keen to highlight the awfulness of traditional gender roles in Japanese society, and presents some interesting gender and identity dynamics toward the very end. But on the whole, the whole thing felt kind of thin and superficial -- it's the kind of story that I could imagine working well as a film, where the visual contrasts of mood and tone could do more of the narrative lifting. Prospective readers should also be warned that there is plenty of triggering content, including sexual violence....more
I can't recall which of the author's previous books I read and enjoyed (probably the first, "A Stranger in the Earth"), but my vague memory of enjoyinI can't recall which of the author's previous books I read and enjoyed (probably the first, "A Stranger in the Earth"), but my vague memory of enjoying that and this striking title were enough to get me to pick this up and give it a shot. The premise is that a 1st edition Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Master's Guide (DMG) is left at a North Korean hotel in the early 1990s and then ends up in the hands of a hotel worker's son. His teacher discovers it, translates it, and introduces the boy to the concept of a roleplaying game. (Note: this is poetic license, since to decipher how D&D works, you'd need both the DMG and the Player's Handbook.)
What follows is a kind of thin skimming through the highs and lows of the boy's life as he grows older. Exposure to "House of Possibility" makes his writing unlike anyone else's and he wins a national student poetry contest and meets the Great Leader. He demonstrates the game to some people in college and is denounced and sent to a hard labor camp for nine years. Twists of fate pull him from that and into the orbit of the Great Leader's Eric Clapton-worshipping forgotten son. Everything is sort of exaggerated and oddly flat at the same time. One gets the sense that the author wanted to write about the plight of North Koreans and had this idea about the power of roleplaying games, and did his best to shove the two together.
It's kind of interesting I guess, but neither realistic nor satirical enough to really pack any power. For us gamers, there's one kind of fun scene near the end where the Leader's forgotten son rants about whether or not he is an NPC (non-player character). On the whole, I can imagine the book working much better if the author had leaned way harder into the role-playing aspect and the power of imagination. More of a curiosity than anything I'd recommend to anyone....more
I've never read Dostoevsky's classic "Crime and Punishment," but it's clear this Afghan novel is very much "in conversation" with it, as they say. As I've never read Dostoevsky's classic "Crime and Punishment," but it's clear this Afghan novel is very much "in conversation" with it, as they say. As best I can tell it's not quite a reimagining or recasting, although the action and many characters have parallels with the Russian work. The book revolves around Rassoul, a young man who has returned to Kabul from studying Russian literature in Leningrad. The Russians have recently withdrawn from the country, and the city is riven by fighting between various Afghan warlords vying for control.
The story opens with Rassoul's murder of an older woman who was a pawnbroker and madam, grooming his beloved for life as a prostitute. Struck mute by his bloody deed, he panics and flees the scene, and spends the rest of the book inside his thoughts, trying to make sense of his act. Rassoul drifts around the city, ducking in and out of hashish parlors, tea shops, the headquarters of commanders, his cousin's office, his fiance's house, a holy place, his own squalid apartment, and eventually prison. All the while, the lines between reality and hallucination remain blurred. Either way, the book is suffused with the trauma of a community in the midst of tearing itself apart in the wake of the Soviet departure.
I have no idea quite how much of his wanderings correspond to the storyline of Crime and Punishment, but his inability to speak for a large part of the story makes for a tough read. It's also a little strained in the sense that so many people seem to love him -- his fiance and her family, his cousin, his landlord's wife, the guys at the hashish house, one of the warlords, etc. But he's so aimless (and mute) for the bulk of the story that it's hard to fathom why people respond so positively to him -- unless the idea is that everyone loves a mute because you can just project your own thoughts onto them? Can't say that this novel really worked for me, but at some point I will probably get around to reading Crime and Punishment, and that might cast it in a different light....more
I was really excited to dive into the Indonesian book described on the cover: "A mysterious novelist searches what remains of [Jakarta] for the story I was really excited to dive into the Indonesian book described on the cover: "A mysterious novelist searches what remains of [Jakarta] for the story of an old, infamous crime. He combs the streets for traces of Gaspar: private-eye-cum-criminal-mastermind who plotted a seemingly simple robbery of a jewelry store....this book combines noir with a laugh-out-loud detective and touches of surreal science fiction." Unfortunately, I was far less excited by the meandering metatextual words between the covers.
Although theoretically set "decades in the future" in a Jakarta submerged by climate change, there's pretty much zero sense of place in the book. There's also neither noir nor any laughing out loud -- just a shaggy dog story about a Macguffin black box. I guess there is some surrealness at least -- for example, the protagonist rides a sentient 1976 Kawasaki which is possessed by a cheetah djinn. So there's that. Oh, and the motorcycle is named after the semi-experimental Argentine-French novelist Julio Cortazar -- so take that signaling for whatever it's worth.
Our protagonist spends the bulk of the book twisting people's arms into joining him on a jewelry store heist. There's a lot of aimless talk, tangents, diversions, a guy in a lucha libre mask, family dynamics, and whatnot to get through before the veil is lifted near the end as to what's actually going on, or rather, why. Between each chapter is an interstitial section which is the transcript of an interview/interrogation of an old lady who was involved in it all. And although the book is quite short, it's still all rather tedious -- although perhaps all the various allusions are more amusing and engaging to the Indonesian reader than the Westerner reading it in English. Readers interested in contemporary experimental fiction from around the world may want to dip their toes into this, but it just never caught my fancy....more
This short work of Sri Lankan speculative fiction is set fifteen years in the future of a world where the British Empire never ended, and Ceylon is stThis short work of Sri Lankan speculative fiction is set fifteen years in the future of a world where the British Empire never ended, and Ceylon is still a colony of the Queen -- albeit one with a Chinese port concession thanks to the military ruthlessness of the Song Empire. It was this alternate history that caught my eye and got me to pick this up. But that geopolitical context has more or less nothing to do with the plot of the book, which falls into three sections.
In the first, we meet a nameless near-feral mute girl who scavenges for food and water in the ruins of Columbo. It seems the ruins are divided into areas that mimic the old structures (Columbo 1 vs. Columbo 4, etc.) and in her area, different gangs of children vie for control of neighborhoods. One day, a healthier, well-fed boy shows up near the building she lives in, and they form a partnership. He convinces her to join him on a journey to the city of Kandy, a place of abundance and power at the heart of the island.
The second part of the book shifts to Kandy -- where we learn that groups of robots are mass produced to fight wars that are livestreamed for entertainment. Basically an updated version of The Running Man, or Battle Royale, or take your pick -- but with robots. Dr. Almeida and her boss are having to figure out how to handle a situation where some of the robots seem to have gone rogue.
The final section takes place thirty years later, as Dr. Almeida is at the heart of a legal case attempting to prove to a court of Buddhist monks that robots can develop the virtues than define being human: appreciation of beauty, recognition of goodness, and understanding of truth, and the desire for justice. This starts to tread in very familiar territory, and while I'm no expert in speculative fiction's treatment of AI sentience, I wasn't getting any new perspectives from this.
The story continues in a sequel called "The Inhuman Peace" -- but I'm probably not going to seek it out. The first third of this book was engaging -- it felt fresh and I had no idea where it was heading. The other 2/3 of the book were a little more inert, and while there was plenty of Sri Lankan color to it, the story just wasn't nearly as interesting....more
Our book club often picks Booker-winners, and I'm often unenthused -- but this was one I was excited to read. Set in Sri Lanka in 1990, in the midst oOur book club often picks Booker-winners, and I'm often unenthused -- but this was one I was excited to read. Set in Sri Lanka in 1990, in the midst of the civil war, the titular narrator/protagonist is the ghost of a gay photojournalist who has just been killed. Maali has seven days in purgatory before he has to decide whether or not to "step into the light" and he intends to use that time to find out how he died and what will happen to his cache of secret photos that incriminate people on all sides of the bloody conflict.
This all sounds amazing -- and yet somehow fell entirely flat for me. The choice to employ the second-person voice throughout created a layer that kept me at a remove from our ghost hero. I can't say I ever connected with him either in the stories of his lived life, nor in the spiritual struggles of the in-between world. Nor did I find much narrative tension in the mystery of who killed him and why, or in what was going to happen to his photos. A firmer grounding in the origins of the civil war (which dated back to 1983) and the role of different factions and where things stood some 30+ years ago might have helped. But without that context, the reader is left with a generic series of atrocities perpetrated by generic death squads, and stakes that are hard to grasp.
Part of what interested me in reading the book was the opportunity to dive into the melting pot culture of the country, with its legacy of Portuguese, British and Dutch colonialism, Indian influence, and Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity. Very little of that comes out in the book, and mostly I was left just wishing I was reading something else. The story kind of plods along, eventually arriving at a well-done climax, but it's all a bit of a slog, and if I wasn't reading it for book club, it's unlikely I would have finished it. ...more
I picked this up in my quest to read a work of fiction from Azerbaijan, and while it's certainly full of interesting historical nuggets, it's not the I picked this up in my quest to read a work of fiction from Azerbaijan, and while it's certainly full of interesting historical nuggets, it's not the finest of fiction. Written by an energy security expert, it's basically fanfic about the Nobel family's role in the development of the oil industry in Baku. This is seen through the eyes of Emanuel Nobel, from his 1876 arrival as a teenager until his flight from the country in 1918 as revolutionary violence swept into Baku.
As oil became the preeminent strategic resource at the dawn of the 20th century, Baku became a classic boom town, as a bevy of oil barons seized the day. As told here, the Nobel concern was far more benevolent than most -- setting up all kinds of free social services (schools, hospitals, libraries, etc.) for its workers and their families, and the Nobels enjoyed fraternal relations with their Azeri counterparts, not to mention close ties to Czar Alexander and Nicholas. (It's worth noting that no mention is made of the Armenian oil barons who controlled about 1/3 of Baku's production.) In any event, the book basically follows Emanuel Nobel through his years as he innovates, dispenses largesse to his friends and workers, falls into bed with a gorgeous British spy, and cunningly outwits his foes -- especially the hated John D. Rockefeller.
For reasons that elude me, the author plays rather fast and loose with the chronology at times, leading to some odd moments, such as Stalin leading a mob through the streets of Baku at a time when he would have been an adolescent, and so forth. Some of the characters retrain their historical names, while others are thinly veiled composites, for example one minor character who's a mix of Sidney Reilly (the "Ace of Spies") and some other figure, or the lurking brute "Ezhov" who seems to be modelled on future NKVD chief Nikolai Yezhov. Perhaps most notable is the character of Leyla Taghiyev, who is a version of the real-life Umm El-Banu Äsâdullayeva, who was a Taghiyev, but one generation later, and wrote a memoir of Baku called "Days in the Caucuses" under the pen name "Banine."
I actually wonder if that's the book that I should have read instead. For all the attempts to paint a picture of the time and place, I'm not really sure that the fictionalization of this interesting history and characters works. I kept finding myself wondering what was real and what was made up, and ultimately wished for a more straightforward history that wasn't so focused on Nobel family hagiography. Readers seeking a nonfiction book about the Nobels in Baku should seek out the 1976 book "The Russian Rockefellers: The Saga of the Nobel Family and the Russian Oil Industry."...more
This 1987 collection of five pieces plus a prologue appears to straddle the line between fiction and autobiography. The title refers to the northeasteThis 1987 collection of five pieces plus a prologue appears to straddle the line between fiction and autobiography. The title refers to the northeastern Thai province commonly transliterated in the west as "Isan" -- a historically very rural and destitute part of the kingdom, whose inhabitants are predominantly of Lao ethnicity. The author grew up in a tiny village there, herding water buffalo and picking rice until travelling to Bangkok at age 14 to further pursue an education. The opening story, "A Novce" follows exactly such a character to the big city, where he works as a lay servant in a monastery. This is a recurring theme through several of the stories, as destitute men dip in and out of monkhood as a vocation seemingly more for survival than spiritual ends.
"A Farmer and His Wife" is written from the perspective of characters who might well be standi-ns for the author's own parents, extolling the virtues of the quiet and simple village life. "A Food Vendor and a Taxi Driver" is the most fully-realized story of the collection, about double the length of any other in the book. It's the story of a young peasant woman who moves to Bangkok to survive, and just barely does so, serving and cleaning in a shabby Chinese-run food stall. An older taxi driver befriends her, and the two of them go on a road trip to her childhood village. I can easily imagine it being teased out into a contemplative film. Another woman narrates "A Thai Woman in Germany" which is exactly what it sounds like, a Thai sex worker now living with her German husband reflecting on her circumstances. The final story, "A Writer", reads more like a personal essay from the author than fiction.
Reading these stories some 35 years after they were published, I'm not quite sure what to make of them. One can clearly see the running theme of Isan people being seen as second-class Thais, and there's a huge strain of romanticism for the simple life of the rural village, and dismay at the products of modernity and the West. Like many writings of the time from all over the world, there's a strong theme around migration to urban centers in search of a better life that proves elusive. It's worth noting that about a third of the book is taken up by photos, some of which appear to link to the stories, and many of which have no obvious connection. There's no explanatory text, and they add to the sense of the book being a very personal story, as opposed to straight fiction....more
I like a nice trashy thriller every now and then, and picked this up hoping that's what I would get. The premise is that 20-something Amaya gets an emI like a nice trashy thriller every now and then, and picked this up hoping that's what I would get. The premise is that 20-something Amaya gets an email from her estranged childhood friend Kaavi, inviting her back home to Sri Lanka, to attend her wedding. They haven't spoken in five years though, following a big fight (the reason behind the fight is withheld for almost the entire book, since that would instantly negate the book's ostensible big reveal). The twist is that Kaavi is marrying Amaya's ex-boyfriend from college, and Amaya is determined not to let that happen. The story unfolds during the days before and during a big, fat, gaudy, super-wealthy Sri Lankan wedding.
Theoretically this could all work -- but it's really poorly executed. There are several times where Amaya and Kaavi just need two minutes to talk and so much would be resolved, but some kind of interruption would happen, or Kaavi would just blow up and walk away -- it all felt so incredibly artificial. The format of the book is mostly witness statements being taken as a security company tries to figure out what's going on. That allows the author to throw out wildly inaccurate information and red herrings, but as I was reading them, I knew I was being deceived in some way and it felt completely fake.
What really bothered me though, was that the deceptions in the villain's backstory would be easy to reveal through a minimum of Googling. Kaavi is a kind of absurd Instagram influencer, who supposedly has a gazillion followers and is super social media savvy -- but neither she nor any of her followers seem to have done the most basic kind of internet sleuthing that almost everyone seems subject to these days. I dunno -- it's a book that has to contort the storyline so hard to make it work, but my guess is that 90% of readers will have figured out the rotten egg in the story within the first third. There's not even anything interesting about Sri Lanka in the book, as the wealthy, status-conscious elite of Colombo act and gossip like the wealthy, status-conscious elite of most countries.
Even for readers who are willing to forgive a lot in their trashy thrillers, this is just not good enough....more
I've always been partial to WWI and WWII-era spy and thriller tales, and gobble up books by Furst, Kerr, Downing, etc., so picked this one up recentlyI've always been partial to WWI and WWII-era spy and thriller tales, and gobble up books by Furst, Kerr, Downing, etc., so picked this one up recently to try out. It starts on the border between Iran and Soviet Azerbaijan in 1936, where Russian teenager Alexi is working with Shahsevan smugglers before the borders are fully sealed. After growing up in a village with German immigrants as neighbors and friends, he was orphaned and now runs the streets of Baku, scamming and stealing his way to survival. Endowed with considerable cunning, street smarts, and several languages, he is forced to work for the NKVD. This backstory and his training as an agent in Moscow take up roughly the first third of the book.
Alexi is then inserted into prewar Germany under the identity of his former childhood best friend. This brings him into the household of an unsuspecting diplomat uncle with plenty of connections. The middle part of the book chronicles his rise within German military intelligence and various episodes of derring do in reporting back to his Moscow handlers. The final third of the book sees his German masters deploy him to Iran for a particularly high-profile assignment.
It's all slightly over-the-top in a 007 way, but the book does a very good job of spelling out how Alexi has to constantly and subtly juggle the demands of both his Soviet and German handlers with an eye to his ultimate survival. Some readers seem to feel that he's too much of a super-spy, but I thought his backstory was well constructed and the origin of each of his skills and abilities is explained. Yes, he's exceedingly intelligent and psychologically astute, but I it's established that from a very young age, he had absorbed the lessons of deceit and suspicion it took to survive in Stanlin's USSR, and when you start adding years of surviving on the streets of multicultural Baku, and then years of NKVD training, he felt plausible to me. There's some kind of lurid sex scenes that felt a little out of place, but other than that, I was fully on board for this adventure and would gladly read a sequel....more
I picked this up in my attempts to find Afghan fiction in English by writers other than Khaled Hosseini and Atiq Rahimi. Soltanzadeh grew up in Kabul I picked this up in my attempts to find Afghan fiction in English by writers other than Khaled Hosseini and Atiq Rahimi. Soltanzadeh grew up in Kabul and after being arrested by the Soviet-backed authorities multiple times, fled in 1985 at age twenty. He then lived in exile in Tehran for almost two decades before settling in Denmark. This collection of eight short stories was originally written in 2000, and took a little more than a decade to appear in English. The translation itself is somewhat hard to evaluate, as the prose is pretty flat and unadorned, and it's hard to know to what extent there was any style to the original writing. The stories themselves are about as bleak as you'd expect, given the author's background. In the title story, the protagonist shares the author's background as an Afghan refugee in Tehran.
Learning of a parent's death in Kabul. In his grief he tries to flee in order to avoid any further tragic news, only to be turned away at the city limits of Tehran, due to restrictions upon refugee movement. It's an effective piece of writing on grief, if a little confusing at times. Soltanzadeh has said that his stories set in post-Soviet occupation Afghanistan are based on the experiences of those he's talked to. In "The Two of Clubs." a Pashtun man falls asleep on the bus on the way home and inadvertently wakes up in a neighborhood controlled by Hazaras, and is captured by a militia. The militia leader decides that a card game of nowrang/nawrang (similar to rummy) will decide whether the man lives or dies.
In "All the Way to Mazar", the relatives of dead man must contend with his wishes to be buried at the Hazrat Ali shrine in Mazar (not to be confused with the more prominent Imam Ali shrine in Najaf, Iraq) but must balance the desire to honor a father's last wish with the reality of factional fighting in the valley they must cross. And when they do make it, they are subject to the Kafkaesque attentions of newly arrived Taliban, who insist on whipping the corpse for not having a beard. It reminded me somewhat of the Syrian novella, "Death is Hard Work" -- about a group of brothers crossing war-torn Syria to bury their father on their ancestral land.
The destitution of Kabul's citizens is another running theme. "The Royal Banquet" is a macabre vignette of a father who has sold virtually every possession he has, and has two final things to offer the world before starving. It's almost like an episode of the old "Twilight Zone" TV show, but most readers will likely have guessed at its grim revelation well before the end. "We Are All Lost" imagines a couple -- the husband crippled in a rocket attack and his wife whose only resource is to turn to the world's oldest profession if they are to get the medicine he needs.
My favorite story was "Baba the Magician" -- in which a venerable Kabul street magician becomes involved in a duel with a young man while a Sovet occupier looks on. It then takes a rather supernatural turn that has obvious metaphorical meaning, but was the one moment in the book that was surprising and memorable. On the whole, it's not a great set of stories, but possibly worth a look by readers with a deep interest in Afghanistan, and Kabul in particular.
Note: This book was produced by a firm that provides self-publishing services, specializing in works in Persian and Farsi, and it shows. While the cover is nicely designed, the text is clumsily formatted, and the book is riddled with typographical errors that a simple spellcheck or read would have caught....more
I picked this up because I thought a story about an orphan who becomes a monk and then leads a rebellion against the Mongols in 14th-century China souI picked this up because I thought a story about an orphan who becomes a monk and then leads a rebellion against the Mongols in 14th-century China sounded interesting. And for the first third or so, it was -- opening with a young girl in a destitute peasant family having to hunt for crickets and lizards to survive. When bandits sweep through and kill her father, and her brother dies of starvation, she assumes her brother's identity and heads to a monastery to become a monk. Her years at the monastery are pretty engaging, as she struggles to overcome her illiteracy and hide her gender.
But then the story takes a turn, and introduces a whole new cast of characters, and that's when I started to lose interest -- and I wish I'd set the book aside at that point. Here we meet eunuch general Ouyang, who has been nursing a desire for revenge for twenty years, and now may have found the right time, as the Yuan empire faces the "Red Turban" rebellions. Basically, the story goes deep into personal and political scheming among various high-ranking nobles, and it was all dull as ditchwater to me. I've never cared for historical fiction or fantasy novels that revolved around court intrigue, and unfortunately, that's here in spades.
Eventually, as she rises to leadership within the Red Turbans in the guise of a man, and various machinations bring her and Ouyang into each other's orbit, it starts to tie together. But the story moved way too slowly for me, and failed to keep my attention. There's not even much background detail to ground one in 14th-century China, so I couldn't even enjoy it in that regard. The book seems to be trying incredibly hard to do something with themes of gender and identity and fate, but it all felt incredibly forced and anachronistic in the telling, and I just couldn't care. All in all, this was a disappointment for me, but also a reminder to do better due diligence before picking up a 400-page book!....more
Almost no Azeri fiction has made it into English, so I was pleased to stumble across this slim book of twelve stories by one of Azerbaijan's most prolAlmost no Azeri fiction has made it into English, so I was pleased to stumble across this slim book of twelve stories by one of Azerbaijan's most prolific writers. The author apparently wrote more than a dozen novels and around a thousand short stories during his lifetime (1908-78), of which the twelve in this slim volume are the only ones available in English translation. I assume they were chosen as being among the best or most representative -- five are from the 1930s, five are from the 1960s, and one each from the 1940s and 1950s. Most are only around 4-6 pages, with the few longer ones 10-12 pages.
As translated here, the writing is more workmanlike than fluid, with satire as the dominant theme of many. The titular opening story is about a man who is "the incarnation of bureaucracy" and his inability to set that aside for his daughter's sake. A similar bureaucrat is satirized in the next story ("Anket Anketov"), as a manager who prefers to bury himself in personnel folders, rather than actually speak to his employees. "Hey Ismayil'' is a fairly overt salvo against Mir Jafar Bagirov, who ruled commuist Azerbaijan under Stalin -- albeit a salvo safely launched a decade after Stalin's death and five years after Bagirov's own execution. "Used to Scoldings" is about a worker so used to being berated by the local party boss that he can't make heads or tails of his kind new boss.
Another strong theme is the tension between traditional Azeri society and Communist modernity. This comes to the fore in 1930s stories like "Rules of Etiquette for a Modern Wedding" (self-explanatory) or "Matishga" in which a village laborer visits Baku and is overwhelmed. The dangers of modernity are at the heart of 1960's "A Foreign Illness" -- a doctor's lament for a teenage girl, who appears to be suffering from bulimia brought on by the influence of films and modern magazines. "Peaches" from 1962 is less of a story than a brief essay decrying the trend of looking abroad for knowledge that might well exist in one's native soil.
As a whole, the book is more of an appetizer or teaser -- there's nothing really to sink one's teeth into. The stories are more situations or social commentary in a thin guise of fiction, as opposed to fully developed characters interacting with each other. Perhaps one day one of his novels will be translated into English and greater depths to Jalal's writing will be revealed....more
I've never read any of Mishima's acclaimed works, and only vaguely know of him as a prolific postwar writer and Japanese cultural figure with nationalI've never read any of Mishima's acclaimed works, and only vaguely know of him as a prolific postwar writer and Japanese cultural figure with nationalist views, who killed himself via ritual disembowelment (seppeku). This is one of his more minor works, having originally appeared in serialized form in a Japanese men's "adult" magazine (although named "Weekly Playboy" it had no affiliation with the Playboy brand). It's hard to imagine what would have driven him to spend his time writing such a rollicking farce -- but the combination of a presumably fat payday and a wide audience for his views must have been at the heart of it. The premise of the book is that a single Tokyo salaryman comes to the realization that life is meaningless, and so decides to sell his life. Wacky antics ensue in a series of absurd encounters, including cuckolds, spies, and a vampire.
A key passage that appears almost exactly 2/3 of the way into the book captures the entire thrust of the protagonist: "To say that human life had no meaning was the easy part. But [he] was struck all over again by the huge amounts of energy required to live a life filled with so much meaningless." Throughout the book, the protagonist rails against modernity, conforming to social norms (job/home/wife/kids), and Western influence -- basically echoing Mishima's own criticisms of modern Japan. As a novel, the book's not particulatly successful -- the satire is not subtle, and it would appear that a certain amount of sex was required in order to meet the expectations of "Weekly Playboy" readers. However, for readers interested in Mishimi, its story about a man who has given up on life does provide a very intriguing lens on an author who would kill himself within two years of writing this....more
This manga series has been a case of diminishing returns for me over the first three books, and having just finished this fourth, I don't think I'll bThis manga series has been a case of diminishing returns for me over the first three books, and having just finished this fourth, I don't think I'll be reading any more. This one opens with Russo-Japanese War veteran Saichi Sugimoto and escape artist Shirashi in a fight with another ex-army guy and a legendary bear hunter for reasons that escape me. The hunter's agenda to kill the Ainu girl's wolf buddy is then revealed, leading to more bloodshed. The story then shifts to the creepy masked dude who is seeking the missing Ainu gold in order to forge a new nation, and then there's the gangster whose agenda I've lost track of, and then a new character is introduced -- he's just a regular serial killer. As the story goes on, it just keeps getting more convoluted as it introduces and does away with character after character. Much as I enjoy the historical setting and details about Ainu culture and oddball bits of humor, the rhythms of the storytelling don't work for me. I think it's been turned into an anime show, so I might try it in that format and see if it works better for me....more
Originally published in French in 1997, this English-language edition came out ten years later, and now some 25+ years on, it's taken on the patina ofOriginally published in French in 1997, this English-language edition came out ten years later, and now some 25+ years on, it's taken on the patina of a historical document of the pre-cell phone era. At its center is David Martin, a Frenchman in his mid to late-20s who is living tenuously in Tokyo as the ostensible sales rep for a small French cognac firm, making ends meet with a side-job in the Tsukiji fish market. We meet him as his Japanese girlfriend is angrily breaking up with him and he faces a visit from the head of the cognac company he represents. A visit that seems likely to lead to the end of his job, and thus his visa and ability to stay in Japan.
David has spent two years in Tokyo, learning the language remarkably well, but failing as a brand-building salesman. Fortune does strike, however, as a buddy at the fish market invites him to a party where the gamine hostess invites him to bed -- and thus a new love affair commences. However, the impending arrival of his boss casts a shadow over their new relationship. When he does arrive though, he turns out to be a friendly, amenable guy, and David's shepherding him through various sights and sounds becomes an amusing and gentle journey. I had a number of Westen friends in Japan as English teachers at the same time this book takes place, and the expatriate vibe all rings rather true.
The cover boasts the line "With the collaboration of Jiro Taniguchi" -- and although what that means isn't clear, this book is reminiscent of the slice-of-life documentary style Taniguchi made famous in books like "The Walking Man." The American creator it reminds me most of, with its aimless young man and romantic plot, is Adriane Tomine. The artwork was a mixed bag for me -- the streetscapes and built environment comes alive, but the people are all over the place, with faces of the main characters being especially inconsistent. On the whole, readers with an interest in expatriates in Japan may find it worth checking out, but otherwise, I can't say it's particularly notable....more