Reviews
once again, Hosseini has engaged, transported and left me moved to tears and empathy in a way that many authors are rarely capable of.
i mourn over this book’s gentle, raw pages — not for the otherworldly writing — but for the people, the
precious lives of Afghanistan that pour out so richly on every page.
the women of Afghanistan have never been more important.
I found myself brought to tears several times reading this book. The story highlights the horrors of being a woman in Afghanistan - how young girls are forced into the role of a submissive wife when they are still children themselves. Set against the context of political instability and domestic terrorism (and 9/11), it left me in awe of the resilience of women to survive in the worst of conditions. Despite the heaviness, I would say this book has probably made it into my top 3 reads of all time.
a heartbreaking story about woman's power and the consequences of war. i didn't expect to like it that much.
Beautiful writing but pretty depressing in “is this too much?” kind of way
One of the best books I've ever read. Khaled Hosseini's writing is real, sometimes brutal, beautiful - like someone truly committed to telling stories and truths about the world. This book turned me upside down and made me reflect on a lot of things - controllable or not. The year 2024 is the third year that the Taliban invaded Afghanistan again and it hurts to know that little has changed, that stories like Mariam's, Laila's, Tariq's are repeated every day in real life.
"A man's heart is a wretched, wretched thing. It isn't like a mother's womb. It won't bleed. It won't stretch to make room for you." *** I had been putting off reading this book because I knew it was a heavy one. But with everything that's been happening now, I felt it was only right that I finally pick this book up. I didn't think I'd cry as much as I did, but Khaled Hosseini really knows how to tug at the heartstrings. The storytelling is excellent as always, and the plot twists left me dumbfounded. I can't decide which book I prefer more, this or The Kite Runner. But reading A Thousand Splendid Suns as a woman myself just hits different. Much respect to all the Afghan women fighting for their lives amidst domestic and social oppression.
A book everyone has to read at least once in their lives, its heart wrenching, and so so real.
BROKE ME.
This is one of those books that are so intense that reading them consumes you. By the time you are done with this book, you will put it down feeling some part of you was taken away and some of the book put back in. First of all, it is beautifully written. Khaled Hosseini's writing is pure and - although I hate the cliche - it feels like it comes straight from the heart. It's so unpretentious and kind. Secondly, the characters. The way they develop throughout the book, they take a life of their own. You find yourself becoming anxious at various points in the book, almost holding the breath back in until you're sure the characters are all right. That's powerful story telling right there. What I also liked about reading this book is that it gave me new insight into the Afghanistan culture. This is my second Khaled Hosseini book, so I had something already to start off with, but it was interesting to get another perspective nevertheless. I've always enjoyed learning about other cultures all that I can, so that is an added bonus. This is also one of the books to have made me cry. And when that happens, you know you're reading a good book.
loved this
oh mariam
This book was beautifully moving. There were many lessons I learned reading it. The city of Kabul stands to be powerful metaphor of undying hope, a central theme to this novel. Mariam and Laiba were powerful women and instead of pitying them I found their strength admirable. Seeing Kabul suffer through one oppressor after the other was irksome but i guess the idyllic ending makes up for that. Overall a really good read
Save the girls. Save every last one
Utterly all encompassing. This is a tale of loss, pain and the lowest form of living. It's a tale that will tug on your heart strings and play with them at will. I loved this book so much. One of the most emotive tales I've ever read and written in such a perfect and beautiful way by Hosseini.
Made me think about things I never have before. I saw the freedom in my own world with new eyes. A beautiful book.
This book pulled every piece of my heart strings. It destroyed me. I read this in one sitting with the thought of wanting to stop to avoid feeling more pain and wanting to continue to hope for something good. I was in so much fear while reading this book; I was terrified for how much more there is to come. The thought that it this is possibly happening in real life, even up to date, pains me. This book tackled the struggles living in war, especially when it comes to women. Poignant, hopeful, extremely moving and very well-written. Beautiful and heartbreaking narration of a tragedy. I loved it so much. This is my first Khaled Hosseini book, and after reading this, it will definitely not be the last. It is definitely one of my favorite reads this year.
It was very deep and really showed the reality for women in Afghanistan
Read this in one sitting in high school when I was really supposed to be doing homework. Fantastic! Everyone needs to read this book.
** spoiler alert ** I was so proud of myself for not crying but as soon as Pinocchio was mentioned at the end, I was bawling.
While standing in line at a thrift store, the woman behind me enthusiastically recommended this book, claiming I would "absolutely love it." However, I have to disagree. I don't give out one-star ratings lightly, but sadly this book merits no more. The premise seemed promising initially, yet the story is riddled with clichés, tired plot twists, and stereotypical depictions of Afghanistan that the reader has likely heard many times before.
The characters lack authenticity, and the sprinkling of Farsi provides only a superficial sense of flavor. Additionally, the editing is subpar, with overly wordy, melodramatic sentences and a predictable plot.
This book relies too heavily on shallow tropes about Afghanistan that cater more to Western preconceptions than capture the true complexities of the culture. I would have gladly waited longer for Hosseini to produce a more nuanced, polished work worthy of his talents, rather than settle for this disappointing, stereotype-laden story.
emotional and heartbreaking yet beautiful book taking place in afghanistan, a country whose history is so unknown to most of the western world.
Absolutely heartbreaking yet compelling read. I cant count how many times I had to take a pause reading this book because of the many struggles endured by Mariam and Laila. Ultimately revealing, this book gives you a glimpse of the many sacrifices, dreams, joys, and most of all the bravery and strength of women in Afghanistan.
Uh, another heart-breaking's novel that I read from Khaled Hosseini. It's a depressing novel, consisting of dark atmosphere and many chapters will leave you gasping for breath due to the sheer amount of brutality and inhumanity some characters seem to love carrying out. I have felt every emotions while reading; the pain, anger, love, tears, the suffering and the small moments of joy. Takes place in Afghanistan between the years 1960 - 2005, the story is about Mariam and Laila's relationship and their courage to stay strong in this an unfair world, and also it is their story of surviving through Russian invasions and Taliban rule in Afghanistan. It amazes me that how a man managed to write about the sufferings of women so finely. "I know you are still young but I want you to understand and learn this now. Marriage can wait, education cannot. And I also know that when this war is over Afghanistan is going to need you as much as its men maybe even more. Because a society has no chance of success if its women are uneducated. No chance." This book blew me away, the writing engrossed me. It was easy to read and went quickly. Reading A Thousand Splendid Suns feel like a rollercoaster. I really enjoy this one.
heartbreaking. people can survive so much and still manage to have love and hope in their hearts
Highlights
Love,war,motherhood,the sacrifice, patriotism, laws, home and what not. All in one💚
It has become a nightly ritual ever since Laila gave Tariq and the children the news. Back and forth they go, making a case for their own choice. Tariq likes Mohammad. Zalmai, who has recently watched Superman on tape, is puzzled as to why an Afghan boy cannot be named Clark. Aziza is campaigning hard for Aman. Laila likes Omar.
But the game involves only male names. Because, if it's a girl, Laila has already named her.
Nana said, "Learn this now and learn it well, my daughter: Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman. Always. You remember that, Mariam."
She remembered Nana saying once that each snowflake was a sigh heaved by an aggrieved woman somewhere in the world. That all the sighs drifted up to the sky, gathered into clouds, then broke into tiny pieces that fell silently on the people below.
As a reminder of how women like us suffer, she'd said. How quietly we endure all that falls upon us.
real
"Do you have it in you?" Laila said. "To what?" "To use this thing. To kill with it." Tariq tucked the gun into the waist of his denims. Then he said a thing both lovely and terrible. "For you," he said. "I'd kill with it for you, Laila."
Laila watches Mariam glue strands of yarn onto her doll's head. In a few years, this little girl will be a woman who will make small demands on life, who will never burden others, who will never let on that she too has had sorrows, disappointments, dreams that have been ridiculed. A woman who will be like a rock in a riverbed, enduring without complaint, her grace not sullied but shaped by the turbulence that washes over her. Already Laila sees something behind this young girl's eyes, something deep in her core, that neither Rasheed nor the Taliban will be able to break. Something as hard and unyielding as a block of limestone. Something that, in the end, will be her undoing and Laila's salvation.
"Me?" he says. "I'll follow you to the end of the world, Laila."
Laila followed his finger. There was a man at the front door of the house, leaning against it. His head turned when he saw them approaching. He uncrossed his arms. Limped a few steps toward them.
Laila stopped.
A choking noise came up her throat. Her knees weakened. Laila suddenly wanted, needed, to grope for Mariam's arm, her shoulder, her wrist, something, anything, to lean on. But she didn't. She didn't dare move a muscle. She didn't dare breathe, or blink even, for fear that he was nothing but a mirage shimmering in the distance, a brittle illusion that would vanish at the slightest provocation. Laila stood perfectly still and looked at Tariq until her chest screamed for air and her eyes burned to blink. And, somehow, miraculously, after she took a breath, closed and opened her eyes, he was still standing there. Tariq was still standing there.
Laila allowed herself to take a step toward him. Then another. And another. And then she was running.
“One could not count the moons that shimmer on her roofs, Or the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her walls.”
Giti’s decomposing right foot, still in its nylon sock and purple sneaker, would be found on a rooftop two weeks later.
“Do you have it in you?” Laila said. “To what?” “To use this thing. To kill with it.” Tariq tucked the gun into the waist of his denims. Then he said a thing both lovely and terrible. “For you,” he said. “I’d kill with it for you, Laila.
“That I only have eyes for you.”
Laila swooned inside.
me too bro me too
Babi said the Americans were a generous people. They would help them with money and food for a while, until they could get on their feet
who lied to him
She would never leave her mark on Mammy’s heart the way her brothers had, because Mammy’s heart was like a pallid beach where Laila’s footprints would forever wash away beneath the waves of sorrow that swelled and crashed, swelled and crashed.
Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman.
“You know what he told his wives by way of defense? That I forced myself on him. That it was my fault. Didi? You see? This is what it means to be a woman in this world.”
Like a compass needle that points north, a man's accusing finger always finds a woman.
Nana had been right about Jalil's gifts. They had been halfhearted tokens of penance, insincere, corrupt gestures ment more for his own appeasement than hers. This shawl, Mariam saw, was a true gift. "It's beautiful," she said.
It is a hope as weak as my heart. This I know. But I will be waiting. I will be listening for your knock. I will be hoping.
She found their hands still clamped together, in the white knuckle, anxious ways of children clutching balloon strings.