Just finished reading The Kite Runner. Wow. Thanks to Lora or Emma...one of you gave me this specific copy of this book.
I don't do much fiction though I could tell you why I think reading fiction is way better for life-imagination than non-fiction, but I don't practice what I preach, so I'll not.
This was a great story of pain, choice, heartbreak, reconciliation...all nestled into the context of current Afghanistan. It was a personal way to learn a nation's history.
It also acted as an interesting documentary on the misuse of religion. "This is not Islam," cries Amir. The book could have been written in Christian Russia just a century prior...or perhaps Christian Europe 400 years prior. But it was written in Muslim Afghanistan...from about 1970-2005.
I am reminded that we share a common heritage...we as human beings that is...of violence. It is not unique to the Muslim world...to the Christian world (in it's own somewhat subtler forms now)...or to the non-religious world.
Dan and I walked Haight Street last week, reflecting on a fight Holly and I had had earlier in the week. I told him how my primal self seemed to be the last part of me that would allow itself to be redeemed. Still we realized that our primal self is what might be most truly who we are. We can talk about non-violence and compassion...but if my inner primal self cannot be transformed, what good is it? Sure it works in "controlled" situations, but what about "real life" when you're in the margins? That's when you can no longer keep the primal self caged.