As I write this, we’re only a few days away from what will certainly be our biggest event of the year – An Evening With Khaled Hosseini, in the East Ballroom of the BJCC on June 16 at 8 pm – this is a slight change in location. Yes, tickets are still available, and include a free signed first edition of his latest novel, And the Mountains Echoed, as well as free indoor parking. As an additional treat, we’ve just found out that a few lucky attendees will also receive the privilege of a private, intimate reception with Khaled Hosseini beforehand. We’ll hold a drawing for this amazing opportunity on Saturday at 10:00 am. And I promise that this is the end of my shameless promotion … for this week, anyway. On to the review!
I first read And the Mountains Echoed about two months ago, and since then I’ve been trying to figure out how to encapsulate this book, how to put my feelings for it into words. The novel is so layered, so complex (as are the emotions it evokes), that I found it nearly impossible to extract its essence and boil my opinions down into a few brief paragraphs. Not going to lie, writing this particular post has been something of a struggle – by far the most difficult review I’ve attempted to date. I want to do justice to this incredible book, but frankly, it’s an intimidating prospect. Saying too much would spoil everything; saying too little equally unfortunate. I’ll do my best, but no matter what I say, I’ll be selling the book short.
Within the novel, there is no single plot, but rather several overlapping, interconnected and entwined narratives, told from many different perspectives. The complexity is no small part of the book’s charm – just as nothing in real life is ever simple or easy, so too are the lives of these characters. Each voice is unique, beautifully articulated and expressed. There are so many viewpoints, so many stories, all intricately woven together. We see each speaker through his or her own eyes, but also through those of the other narrators, creating something magical and multifaceted. Every single character is far more than they seem, and gradually the layers are peeled away, revealing the flaws and intricacies of the human spirit.
Much of the story centers around a particular house in Kabul – it brings most, if not all, of the characters together. It is the point where all stories overlap and intersect, connecting otherwise unrelated people, even if some individuals never see it, or even hear about it. The plot doesn’t stay in Kabul, but wanders all over the world, from Paris to San Francisco to the Greek island of Tinos and back again. Altogether, the tangled threads of the plot weave together disparate events in time and space, covering nearly fifty years. Relationships grow and change during this period, and occasionally end. There is no “happily ever after”, no fairy tale endings. Nothing is resolved neatly, or tidily. In spite of everything that happens, however, characters still manage to find joy, and achieve contentment and happiness in their lives, even though nothing happens the way they ever expected it to.
There is tragedy here – my god, is there tragedy. Some blatantly obvious, and some hidden in what the characters deliberately choose not to say. But very few of the characters dwell on it, most of them instead choosing to move forward, rarely looking back. Underlying everything that happens, under every twist and turn thrown by life is the constant theme of hope and perseverance.
Heartbreaking and heartwarming by turns (and often at the same time), this novel is blatantly, powerfully, beautifully real. It is moving in a way I’ve rarely encountered before. Nothing is simple, nothing black-and-white, only varying shades of gray. At heart, really, it’s about family, both the one we are born with and the one we create. There is love here, running through every relationship in the book, learning to love despite and because of the inherent flaws in every person, including ourselves. And more than anything else, there is hope.
~Paige
Alabama Booksmith Blog 