‘The Kite Runner’: A journey toward redemption
July 9, 2006 | 12:00am
This Week’s Winner
Patricia Marie Grace A. Sy, 22, lives in Bacolod City with her parents and brother. She graduated from De La Salle University-Manila with a degree in Communication Arts. She is an entrepreneur, a supplier of cakes and desserts to fast-food restaurants. "My dream is to have my own restaurant. I appreciate film, literature, artwork, poetry, books and anything to do with communication. I like to cook, answer crossword puzzles, write poetry and take care of my beloved African cichlids."
A few months ago my mom got The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini as a birthday present from my sister who is away in college. My mom rarely gets a novel for a present from my sister or anybody else for that matter. I got curious as I saw her happily absorbed in it for a few days and as soon as she was done I gave it a try. I seldom read because it takes me several days to finish a book but there was a mysterious urge to check out this one. I was instantly met by a story so powerful, so moving and so full of timeless wisdom. It is truly one of those rare books you can’t wait to share with everybody you know just so they, too, will be uplifted.
The Kite Runner is a spellbinding tale of love, loyalty, justice and redemption. It is the story of an Afghan boy, his father Baba, and the loyal servant-friend, although he would never admit it, he grew up with in pre-war Afghanistan, and their experiences amid the religious and political conflicts that threatened and eventually overcame their country.
"I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975," Amir, the boy and protagonist, begins his story. He lives in a mansion with his father, a towering and wealthy figure nicknamed "Toophan agha" or "Mr. Hurricane," a highly prominent figure in Afghan society, his father’s trusted servant Ali and Ali’s son Hassan, whose face is the first image that comes to Amir’s mind whenever he thinks of Afghanistan.
Amir’s mother died giving birth to him and a year after that Hassan’s mother left him less than a week after he was born to join a clan of traveling singers and dancers, a fate most Afghans considered far worse than death. So Amir, a motherless Pashtun, equivalent to the highest social class of Afghan society who were Sunni Muslims, and Hassan, a motherless Hazara, the lowest social class who are Mogul descendants and Shi’a Muslims, fed from the same nurse’s breasts and were like brothers.
It was during the annual kite-fighting tournament, a very important occasion in their city, that 12-year-old Amir, wanting nothing more than to earn his father’s love and approval by winning the competition, became who he was. Baba was a great athlete rumored to have wrestled a bear with his bare hands who wanted his son to be exactly like him in character and skill but Amir always had a weak personality and is more interested in writing stories than participating in sports. In the same way, some of our parents today secretly, or sometimes not-so-secretly dream we can be like them, to inherit their special talents and skills and deal with situations the way they would, that they are often disappointed when we do not.
Amir is a sensitive and insecure boy who has great admiration and esteem for his father, his hero, even envious of the special attention his father bestows on Hassan, who is more like his son than Amir is. Hassan, a cleft-lipped boy who, like his father Ali, is the epitome of an honest and devoted servant, always defends Amir who cannot even stand up for himself and is a wimp during fights. However, Amir would not even call him "friend" because Hassan is a servant and a Hazara at that. I suppose that since time immemorial people have and still experience this very same awkwardness and contempt for their subordinates and those with different cultures no matter how steadfast the latter are or how much they honor us.
It is Amir’s decision as he is peeking into the deserted alley just after the tournament that defines who he becomes and changes his life. He witnesses Hassan being sodomized by a group of rich bullies and does nothing to stop them. Twenty-six years later, Amir is still peeking into that alley, the scene of his crime, looking back at his past with tremendous guilt.
I know all about guilt. Like Amir, I used to live life peeking through an alley of my own, a dark place that used to be the scene of a crime – mine. I had once breached a lot of people’s trust and broke their hearts in the process because of my rebellion and sheer stupidity that when I finally came to my senses I still suffered the consequences of guilt. That’s how it is when you do something bad. The memory of your misdeed stays with you long after you are forgiven.
The author is unforgiving in his portrayal of Amir with all of the character’s flaws and weaknesses, making him barely a hero to root for. But that is exactly why this novel is a winner in my opinion – it captures the essence of being human. "Nobody’s perfect" is an overused adage that is useful to remember when we start judging someone who has done something ugly in his or her past. Amir does just that to the girl he wants to marry, who has a dark past, because he of all people knows about regret. Consequently, an important thing I learned from the book is about forgiveness, that when you forgive someone of their most terrible sin it somehow redeems you from your own, or at least offers your tortured soul a much-needed respite.
I also like this book because it is genuine. It may have happened in Afghanistan to a wealthy boy surrounded by political conflict and immense poverty, the images of which are disturbing and haunting, but it is also everybody’s story. We do have fragile relationships with our parents, friends and subordinates one way or another. We are conscious about social classes and fear being ostracized, we are guilty of betraying innocent people and we also experience being betrayed by people dearest to us.
Amir’s shortcomings mirror everyone else’s. Envy, apathy and betrayal, most of which he eventually overcomes. We struggle with the same issues – wanting to be accepted, meeting people’s expectations, standing up for the right thing or choosing not to because we are afraid. Like him we have unatoned sins that we try our best to conceal and forget.
Even as Amir and his father escape to America, he is torn by guilt. Only when he goes back to Afghanistan does he experience redemption and his soul is finally set free.
At some point in our lives there is an event that will define who we are, whether it’s a decision we make or an action we do. It will transform us and we live with its consequences. Yet as this novel proves there is always a way to atone for our sins.
"There is a way to be good again," Rahim Khan tells Amir.
Indeed, there is. However bad we were.
Patricia Marie Grace A. Sy, 22, lives in Bacolod City with her parents and brother. She graduated from De La Salle University-Manila with a degree in Communication Arts. She is an entrepreneur, a supplier of cakes and desserts to fast-food restaurants. "My dream is to have my own restaurant. I appreciate film, literature, artwork, poetry, books and anything to do with communication. I like to cook, answer crossword puzzles, write poetry and take care of my beloved African cichlids."
A few months ago my mom got The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini as a birthday present from my sister who is away in college. My mom rarely gets a novel for a present from my sister or anybody else for that matter. I got curious as I saw her happily absorbed in it for a few days and as soon as she was done I gave it a try. I seldom read because it takes me several days to finish a book but there was a mysterious urge to check out this one. I was instantly met by a story so powerful, so moving and so full of timeless wisdom. It is truly one of those rare books you can’t wait to share with everybody you know just so they, too, will be uplifted.
The Kite Runner is a spellbinding tale of love, loyalty, justice and redemption. It is the story of an Afghan boy, his father Baba, and the loyal servant-friend, although he would never admit it, he grew up with in pre-war Afghanistan, and their experiences amid the religious and political conflicts that threatened and eventually overcame their country.
"I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid overcast day in the winter of 1975," Amir, the boy and protagonist, begins his story. He lives in a mansion with his father, a towering and wealthy figure nicknamed "Toophan agha" or "Mr. Hurricane," a highly prominent figure in Afghan society, his father’s trusted servant Ali and Ali’s son Hassan, whose face is the first image that comes to Amir’s mind whenever he thinks of Afghanistan.
Amir’s mother died giving birth to him and a year after that Hassan’s mother left him less than a week after he was born to join a clan of traveling singers and dancers, a fate most Afghans considered far worse than death. So Amir, a motherless Pashtun, equivalent to the highest social class of Afghan society who were Sunni Muslims, and Hassan, a motherless Hazara, the lowest social class who are Mogul descendants and Shi’a Muslims, fed from the same nurse’s breasts and were like brothers.
It was during the annual kite-fighting tournament, a very important occasion in their city, that 12-year-old Amir, wanting nothing more than to earn his father’s love and approval by winning the competition, became who he was. Baba was a great athlete rumored to have wrestled a bear with his bare hands who wanted his son to be exactly like him in character and skill but Amir always had a weak personality and is more interested in writing stories than participating in sports. In the same way, some of our parents today secretly, or sometimes not-so-secretly dream we can be like them, to inherit their special talents and skills and deal with situations the way they would, that they are often disappointed when we do not.
Amir is a sensitive and insecure boy who has great admiration and esteem for his father, his hero, even envious of the special attention his father bestows on Hassan, who is more like his son than Amir is. Hassan, a cleft-lipped boy who, like his father Ali, is the epitome of an honest and devoted servant, always defends Amir who cannot even stand up for himself and is a wimp during fights. However, Amir would not even call him "friend" because Hassan is a servant and a Hazara at that. I suppose that since time immemorial people have and still experience this very same awkwardness and contempt for their subordinates and those with different cultures no matter how steadfast the latter are or how much they honor us.
It is Amir’s decision as he is peeking into the deserted alley just after the tournament that defines who he becomes and changes his life. He witnesses Hassan being sodomized by a group of rich bullies and does nothing to stop them. Twenty-six years later, Amir is still peeking into that alley, the scene of his crime, looking back at his past with tremendous guilt.
I know all about guilt. Like Amir, I used to live life peeking through an alley of my own, a dark place that used to be the scene of a crime – mine. I had once breached a lot of people’s trust and broke their hearts in the process because of my rebellion and sheer stupidity that when I finally came to my senses I still suffered the consequences of guilt. That’s how it is when you do something bad. The memory of your misdeed stays with you long after you are forgiven.
The author is unforgiving in his portrayal of Amir with all of the character’s flaws and weaknesses, making him barely a hero to root for. But that is exactly why this novel is a winner in my opinion – it captures the essence of being human. "Nobody’s perfect" is an overused adage that is useful to remember when we start judging someone who has done something ugly in his or her past. Amir does just that to the girl he wants to marry, who has a dark past, because he of all people knows about regret. Consequently, an important thing I learned from the book is about forgiveness, that when you forgive someone of their most terrible sin it somehow redeems you from your own, or at least offers your tortured soul a much-needed respite.
I also like this book because it is genuine. It may have happened in Afghanistan to a wealthy boy surrounded by political conflict and immense poverty, the images of which are disturbing and haunting, but it is also everybody’s story. We do have fragile relationships with our parents, friends and subordinates one way or another. We are conscious about social classes and fear being ostracized, we are guilty of betraying innocent people and we also experience being betrayed by people dearest to us.
Amir’s shortcomings mirror everyone else’s. Envy, apathy and betrayal, most of which he eventually overcomes. We struggle with the same issues – wanting to be accepted, meeting people’s expectations, standing up for the right thing or choosing not to because we are afraid. Like him we have unatoned sins that we try our best to conceal and forget.
Even as Amir and his father escape to America, he is torn by guilt. Only when he goes back to Afghanistan does he experience redemption and his soul is finally set free.
At some point in our lives there is an event that will define who we are, whether it’s a decision we make or an action we do. It will transform us and we live with its consequences. Yet as this novel proves there is always a way to atone for our sins.
"There is a way to be good again," Rahim Khan tells Amir.
Indeed, there is. However bad we were.
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