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The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini is a novel that is finally loosening its grip on mankind. A few years ago, this novel was everywhere. After 9/11 an Afghan writer became famous by telling us the "real" story of his perpetually troubled country injected with an unhealty dose of sacharine and sentiment. This combination proved fatal for the general population and turned The Kite Runner into an international best seller, a book club favorite and naturally a movie.
I'll tell you straight away, that I despise sentiment, tear-jerkers, smaltzy true stories filled with family, tragedy and small children in particular. Before you start thinking I'm a cold hearted bitch or something, I'll eloborate. These stories usually lack true depth, character and plot and rely solely on cheap sentiment which works for some but for me, it just stimulates my gag reflex.
Anyway, The Kite Runner. When I was working at Standaard Boekhandel, this novel together with Hosseini's second fictional outing never left the top 5 despite having been released a few years ago. Everyone was talking about these books, about how rich, devastating and engaging they were. Naturally, I had to see what all the fuss was about.
Firstly, I rarely read non-English writers (shame on me, I know) with the exception of Murakami and Larsson who I also discovered thanks to the word of mouth at Standaard. Secondly, loss, redemption, children and Afghanistan, not exactly my cup of tea but what the hell?
I read A Tho
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The Kite Runner which I finally got round to reading was more of the same: young boys, best friends, tragedy, war, redemption, happily ever after (for some anyway). Ok, you get a look into the lives of the Afghan people during the rocky 80s and 90s but this is pushed to the background by the boys and their toys.
In the end, I'm happy I got this book from my to be read pile. I can understand why some people love this stuff: history, tragedy, personal growth and politically correct. I'm just not one of them.
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