It took me half an hour to finish it. I haven’t read yet any of the Earthsea stories but there is no magic or dragons in Omelas, so I’d guess this is more of a Hainish taste. Being already familiar with the plot, it lacked a climactic moment and the story didn’t spark any more thoughts than I had already given to the topic when I first learned about it. It’s probably wise to avoid related material about short-stories you want to read if you don’t want them to be spoiled, but the advice is particularly true for this one. I wish I hadn’t read anything about it.
I still liked how it’s built on simple language and a raw metaphor anyone can relate to. Reading it helped me to consolidate this idea of Ursula being not a novelist but an anthropologist who happens to be interested in fictional societies. Writing stories about non-existing societies was her way of researching a topic, live with the locals, and explaining to us what it was like living in that world.
The anthology I bought includes an intro commentary by the author about how she came up with the Omelas word which was also fun and humanizes the way I picture writers work.
Lately, I felt the urge to read fiction again, after a long time focused on tech and non-fiction. I was also looking to widen my perspectives and stay away from sci-fi for a bit. I found an English book club ran by the neighborhood public library, and The kite runner was the first reading since I joined. Actually, a friend of mine had lent me the book many years ago, but I had forgotten most of it. It seems unfair that I did because the second read has left me very moved.
The book’s central character is Amir, born from a rich Pashtun merchant in the Kabul of the 60s. The first third of the book pivots on the relationships with his father and his Hazara servant during his teenage years. After the Saur revolution, the family flies to America and we are introduced to how was life like for Afghani immigrants, but also how our beloved character transitions to become an adult. The book’s third act goes back to Afghanistan, but to a different one, as it is set up after the Ismalic Jihad that ended up with the Taliban ruling the country.
Because I had already read the book I didn’t expect it to be able to generate so many emotions as I went through it. I was so wrong. In the beginning, I had some trouble to like it, and Hosseini’s way of expressing Amir feelings felt a bit pretending, but every time he focused on a particular plot, I felt engaged again. Certain scenes were a lot more disturbing than I remembered, to the point that I had to stop a couple of times, take fresh air, and make myself aware that I was living in a totally different reality than the books – that’s something I don’t experience in many books. Having to deal with my father’s death last year struck all kind of emotions and relived conversations as well – in a way, I think that helped the book to have more impact on me this second time, and reminds me that there are books that hold healing power if read at the proper time. Finally, I couldn’t help but think that the Amir and Hassan friendship is a metaphor for Afghanistan as a failed state during the many wars that beat the country in the 1974-2001 period. It seems to me as if Hosseini was trying to say that the country cannot be at peace until the Pashtuns and Hazaras are equals.
I’d say The kite runner is a book about guilt and redemption, a father-son relationship, and perhaps the main window to Afghanistan culture for most westerns. I think the book fares well in each of those.
Sés is a Galician singersongwriter. Her stage presence and lyrics reminds me of what it means to grow in small villages by the periphery. I feel connected to that dignity and survival skills, because it embodies the attitude of the women I grew around. The Galician matriachy.
I’ve just learned that Ursula K. Le Guin is no longer with us. She left multiple worlds for us to play with and learn from. Two of them –The Left Hand of Darkness, and The Dispossessed– are my goto guides when it comes to imagining societies that take into account the role of self-management, genre, language, and free commerce. We cannot bring her back, but we still have her words to read all that she wanted to tell us.
Mars soundtrack (the National Geographic tv-show) is fantastic. Nick Cave is just the perfect voice to convey that feeling of exploration and fear. Moon, Interstellar, The Martian, etc; it seems sci-fi movies got an appreciation for soundtracks that have a major role in the film – and I enjoy that.
As much as I like Cave’s main theme for Mars, after a few episodes, I was in the need of something like Dylan’s Shelter from the Storm. Exploration needs joy and celebration.
Past Saturday, AMC aired Halt and Catch Fire season finale. I saw this tv-show grow over 4 seasons and I’m sad it’s over.
HACF resonated with me because it was about the pleasure of making things work and the cost of pursuing your dreams. We need a whole lot more stories about the woes and joys of creation to learn how to navigate that world and to inspire us. We need more builders and dreamers capable of not burning themselves out.
Bonus points for using the evolution of computers as the McGuffin. But, as much as I liked the history of computers being the central plot of a well done period drama, HACF wasn’t about computers. The computers aren’t the thing. They are the thing that get us to the thing.
This was the first book listening experience that I’ve actually finished. Sean Runnette‘s voice was adequate for setting the tone and rhythm – actually, sometimes I felt I was listening to Feinmann himself!
Having read Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!, What Do You Care What Other People Think? and some other papers/videos, most of the stories in the book I already knew, but it had some new material that made it interesting nonetheless. This is more mathematical/physical intense than the others, probably because it’s mostly focused on the scientific and less in the human Feynman – but also because many chapters are directly transcribed from conferences he gave. It’s also worth noting that, unlike the other two, this book was published without Feynmann intervention: it’s published 10 years after his death.
If I had to choose only a Feynman book I’d choose Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynmann! It’s better edited and has more variety. Then, if you are hungry for more, What do you care what other people think? contains new stories. I liked this one, but I doubt it’s a good introduction to Feynmann lifestyle, work, values, and character.