Book Review: The Kite Runner

I have read very few Afghan books. In fact, other than this one, Three Cups of Tea is the only other book I have read with Afghanistan as a setting (and I have little to nothing I care to say about that one). The Kite Runner is, for sure, on my list as a favorite. 


Amir, a young and wealthy Afghan boy, describes life growing up in the Afghanistan of the 1970's and 80's. He grows up with his distant father, his family's servant and the servant boy, Hassan. The close age of the boys and the absence of their mothers are what bond the two young boys together. Despite their closeness, social norms still play a strong role in their relationship and Amir often toys with the lines between Hassan's friendship and servitude. Life for them is very simple and typical, with strong customs and traditions until one of these traditions leads them into a tragedy that brings forth doubt, secrets and fractures the tightly bonded group of men both young and old. 


A few short years after the boys share this secret, Russia invades Afghanistan and brings destruction to the country. Amir and his father escape to America and join many other refugees in the community where they begin to rebuild their lives. We see an adult Amir and his father discover one another as they grow older together and share the memories and the secrets of their Afghanistan and their lives. Amir discovers secrets of his father that will forever change his life. 


Khaled Hosseini writes such beautifully descriptive prose, bringing readers into the foreign world of the past. I was gripped by the former beauty of a country that I have only seen as a desolated war zone on television. These descriptions not only exposed the warm hearts of the characters, but of a people so misunderstood and misrepresented by the extremists shown on the news today. This is a crafted tale of humanity, love and courage that should be read by everyone. 

What Makes a Family?

As I write my first novel, I've thought a great deal about family.  Growing up in a family of four, (mom, dad, younger brother and myself), I thought I knew what family meant.  I mean, we had it all didn't we?  The three bedroom house, two cars, two dogs, two cats and all the Christmas lights a kid could ever remember wanting.  Family is picking on your little brother so much he cries and the very next moment he is sticking up for you to the neighborhood bully.  Then an hour later, he and the same bully are caught reading your diary in your room so you beat them both up.  Family is a mom and a dad going to work during the day, home in the evenings, t-ball and softball games, backyard BBQ and camping with neighbors.  Or is it?

Now as my family is crumbling and I am experiencing my own battle with the infamous plague of families--divorce.  I find I am learning what family is and what it is not.  I'm realizing that family, as I have come to learn it, is a sham.  None of the previously mentioned experiences mean anything without love.  It seems that so often we equate family to numbers, 2.5 kids, $84,000 average net worth, 2 parents, 4 grandparents and so on.  Where is the love number?  

Based on the average income of divorce lawyers ($48,353-$77,968 annually, PayScale.com, May 2011), it may seem to some that the love number has a dollar sign attached to it.  I know there are days when I look at those red numbers jumping from my online banking statement and think the same thing; especially this time of year.  Despair starts to take over, but then, one of my boys asks me for help with something or shares a story with me about a friend at school who may be moving away.  Smack!  Back in reality, I can clearly see that how much spending money one has does not equate love.  And not only can I see it; it is obvious that my boys somehow instinctively know this better than most adults.  Sure they ask for things, but they know those things do not mean I love them.  

Love, I am learning, also is not measured in increments of 60 or by 30-31 boxes on a calendar.  Nope, you won't find any measure of the love that constitutes a family on the clock or calendar on your wall.  Go ahead and fill your days with times and places, events and people.  Let me know if this brings you love.  As my children are learning how to actually "spend time with" their parents, especially Dad, it is becoming painfully obvious that love is not measured by time.  Sure, they get excited about seeing Dad.  They talk incessantly when he comes over for his Wednesday night visit--for about a half hour.  After that, they are back to iPods, video games or just hanging in their rooms.  They aren't upset when he is late because of traffic or leaves early because they are ignoring him.  For the kids, time does not equate love.

Ask any adult what their two most valuable liquid assets are and most will tell you time and money.  Ask any child, and it's love (maybe candy, but this is not about candy, so we will just ignore Matthew's response).  They feel their best when they know they are loved.  The best part is, the love doesn't even have to come from their parents (thank goodness, right?).  Just look at all the adopted, step and orphaned children that manage to find one adult to love them no matter what.  These kids are able to become contributing adults, go on to love and build their own families.  Kids are better at "family" than adults are.  Kids thrive on love!  

Next time you see any size group of people, regardless of the combination of race, creed, gender or age, look in their eyes.  Is there love?  Is there an ebb and flow of sacrifice and contribution?  Is there a comfort level that accepts successes and mistakes?  That is a family.  You don't need to know how long they have known each other or what country the baby is adopted from.  No numbers, no statistics, no averages.  None of that matters.  Love, love makes them a family.