Subsequent to Chapter 12, Amir's progression as a person becomes even more marked. He becomes a successful writer; something that he had been forced to keep from Baba during his youth, but which he is now able to do with confidence, even before the death of his father, with whom Amir continues to co-exist happily with. In fact, Amir makes his father proud several times towards the end of the latter's life; he marries, graduates, and writes. All of these mark a transition towards manhood; he has a job, has left school, and has a wife, traditional signposts of maturity.
Another significant change from the Amir of old is his greater willingness to face up to his guilt, and overcome his innate cowardice. This isn't to say that Amir doesn't still agonize whenever he has to make a decision that might upset or hurt him; but now he surmounts his fears. So, he visits Rahim Khan, and despite initial terror, agrees to find Sohrab- at great personal risk.
It's interesting to ponder how Amir feels about Hassan's death- clearly, he is upset by it. Is he bothered because he has lost his chance to atone, or maybe slightly relieved? I believe that it's the former, and he chooses to rescue Sohrab as a way to posthumously reconcile with Hassan.
When Amir places money under the bed in Wahid's house, we see a contrast (a little heavy-handed) between the Amir who betrayed Hassan, selfishly, and the grown, come-of-age Amir who thinks of others (finally).
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
The Kite Runner, Chapters 11-12
Here, in America, there is an interesting shift in the relationship between Amir and Baba. Amir no longer seems in awe of his father- perhaps because his father is no longer the man he once was. Working at a gas station, suffering health-wise, and with a graying beard and 'hair thinning at the temples,' no longer is he a God-like figure. He's simply mortal, and sad.
Having said that, he still retains some of his old hold over Amir, who still 'liked being on the receiving end of that [proud] look' after graduation, and who was subject to 'one of his smoldering Baba looks,' which had the same old power- 'the words had vaporized on my tongue.'
Their relationship seems a lot healthier, for all this, though. Amir receives Baba's present of a car gratefully, in contrast to the contempt he displayed the gifts he received on his 13th birthday.
Hassan's shadow, however, still hangs heavily over Amir. The sound of his name evokes the feeling of 'a pair of steel hands' closing around Amir's windpipe.
The most significant moment in this part of the book is Amir's declaration that: 'I didn't want to sacrifice for Baba any more.' This was the decision we were waiting for, the first indication that Amir is breaking away from his father.
Having said that, he still retains some of his old hold over Amir, who still 'liked being on the receiving end of that [proud] look' after graduation, and who was subject to 'one of his smoldering Baba looks,' which had the same old power- 'the words had vaporized on my tongue.'
Their relationship seems a lot healthier, for all this, though. Amir receives Baba's present of a car gratefully, in contrast to the contempt he displayed the gifts he received on his 13th birthday.
Hassan's shadow, however, still hangs heavily over Amir. The sound of his name evokes the feeling of 'a pair of steel hands' closing around Amir's windpipe.
The most significant moment in this part of the book is Amir's declaration that: 'I didn't want to sacrifice for Baba any more.' This was the decision we were waiting for, the first indication that Amir is breaking away from his father.
The Kite Runner, Chapters 1-10
The character (in both senses of the word) of Amir clearly takes centre-stage here. His single most crippling feature is his single-minded desire to be somebody in the eyes of his father, and it is a desire that eclipses all else, and motivates his- often despicable- actions. It seems impossible that Amir will ever come of age until he becomes happy in his own skin, rather than trying to please his father constantly- something he will never be able to do, being so different.
His treatment of Hassan is, yes, abhorrent, but there are mitigating circumstances. Quite aside from the aforementioned desire for paternal love, there is the sheer selfless willingness of Hassan to put Amir before himself. Though we can see Amir's ultimate betrayal of his servant as horrifying, we have to be aware that leading up to it are numerous acts of charity from Hassan; to Amir, this was just another, the ultimate. Amir himself recognises it for this and gratefully (though not bravely) accepts the sacrifice, though perhaps he wishes it weren't so.
His treatment of Hassan is, yes, abhorrent, but there are mitigating circumstances. Quite aside from the aforementioned desire for paternal love, there is the sheer selfless willingness of Hassan to put Amir before himself. Though we can see Amir's ultimate betrayal of his servant as horrifying, we have to be aware that leading up to it are numerous acts of charity from Hassan; to Amir, this was just another, the ultimate. Amir himself recognises it for this and gratefully (though not bravely) accepts the sacrifice, though perhaps he wishes it weren't so.
Monday, February 4, 2008
South America/Caribbean
Reflections on the South America/Caribbean Stories
Columba
For me, the most intriguing part of this thoroughly engaging story comes at the end, with the sentence, 'this was not done.' In class, it seems as though the accepted meaning of these four words is that they indicate the ignorance of slaughtering the doves; though this is certainly one possible explanation, I personally felt that it was in reference to the moment that our heroine places her arm around the slave boy. This was, for me, her coming of age, her act of rebellion against 'what was done.' This can be seen especially when we contrast the sneaking around that she had to do to see Columba at the start of the story- now, she 'recklessly' walks into the bush.
Also interesting here are the political overtones of the basic coming of age story. Already touched upon is the taboo connection between slave and master, but there are further references to the dove-car being a 'colony within a colony,' and the birds themselves not being for killing- a fact not recognised by the colonists.
On Sunday
Again, I'm curious about the ambiguity of the ending here; specifically, what Miguel's 'golden future' might be. Superficially, of course, it refers to his earning the right to date Flora- indeed, this is all Miguel himself can think about: 'All Miraflores would soon know... and Flora would be waiting for him with glowing eyes'. More importantly, though, if we take the voice of the last sentence as Llosa's, this golden future is a reference to the fact that Miguel is 'getting to be a man;' he's overcome the paralysis he encountered before under pressure, and has bested the town's alpha male.
Girl
What I found most interesting here was the almost throwaway insertion of certain instructions that, on a closer reading, give pause for thought. The majority of the advice given is practical, typical, unsurprising: 'cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil... this is how you sweep a corner,' and it's delivered monotonously, in quick succession. As such, it's easy to miss slightly disquieting instruction, such as: 'this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child.' This is especially disturbing, given its juxtaposition to the more commonplace medicine for curing a cold.
There are also a couple of occasions upon which the advice seems to border on the superstitious, perhaps indicating more deeply the native culture: 'don't throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird at all... this is how to throw back a fish you don't like, and that way something bad won't fall on you.'
Columbus in Chains
Just as in Columba, I found the aspect of colonization an interesting one in this piece. Annie has sympathy for Ruth, who is labeled a dunce for not knowing her West Indian history- but this is an unfair tag, since Ruth is originally from England. Her sympathy, however, does not extend to Columbus, whom she is delighted to see in chains, just as the slaves would have been.
In a way, Annie is still subject to a kind of slavery; the English cultural kind. She rebels against this by belittling Columbus, dancing calypso at recess and later in the graveyard. This story appears a kind of turning point for Annie; at the start, she is prefect, top of the class, and clearly enjoys her home life. By the end, she's lost her prefect position, and returning home finds no comfort there at all.
Columba
For me, the most intriguing part of this thoroughly engaging story comes at the end, with the sentence, 'this was not done.' In class, it seems as though the accepted meaning of these four words is that they indicate the ignorance of slaughtering the doves; though this is certainly one possible explanation, I personally felt that it was in reference to the moment that our heroine places her arm around the slave boy. This was, for me, her coming of age, her act of rebellion against 'what was done.' This can be seen especially when we contrast the sneaking around that she had to do to see Columba at the start of the story- now, she 'recklessly' walks into the bush.
Also interesting here are the political overtones of the basic coming of age story. Already touched upon is the taboo connection between slave and master, but there are further references to the dove-car being a 'colony within a colony,' and the birds themselves not being for killing- a fact not recognised by the colonists.
On Sunday
Again, I'm curious about the ambiguity of the ending here; specifically, what Miguel's 'golden future' might be. Superficially, of course, it refers to his earning the right to date Flora- indeed, this is all Miguel himself can think about: 'All Miraflores would soon know... and Flora would be waiting for him with glowing eyes'. More importantly, though, if we take the voice of the last sentence as Llosa's, this golden future is a reference to the fact that Miguel is 'getting to be a man;' he's overcome the paralysis he encountered before under pressure, and has bested the town's alpha male.
Girl
What I found most interesting here was the almost throwaway insertion of certain instructions that, on a closer reading, give pause for thought. The majority of the advice given is practical, typical, unsurprising: 'cook pumpkin fritters in very hot sweet oil... this is how you sweep a corner,' and it's delivered monotonously, in quick succession. As such, it's easy to miss slightly disquieting instruction, such as: 'this is how to make a good medicine to throw away a child before it even becomes a child.' This is especially disturbing, given its juxtaposition to the more commonplace medicine for curing a cold.
There are also a couple of occasions upon which the advice seems to border on the superstitious, perhaps indicating more deeply the native culture: 'don't throw stones at blackbirds, because it might not be a blackbird at all... this is how to throw back a fish you don't like, and that way something bad won't fall on you.'
Columbus in Chains
Just as in Columba, I found the aspect of colonization an interesting one in this piece. Annie has sympathy for Ruth, who is labeled a dunce for not knowing her West Indian history- but this is an unfair tag, since Ruth is originally from England. Her sympathy, however, does not extend to Columbus, whom she is delighted to see in chains, just as the slaves would have been.
In a way, Annie is still subject to a kind of slavery; the English cultural kind. She rebels against this by belittling Columbus, dancing calypso at recess and later in the graveyard. This story appears a kind of turning point for Annie; at the start, she is prefect, top of the class, and clearly enjoys her home life. By the end, she's lost her prefect position, and returning home finds no comfort there at all.
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