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Literary Criticism

 Kabul Press, World Media Home

A quick glance on Novel “The Kite Runner”

Author of the novel: Khaled Hosseini

“Crow knows the language of the crow”

                                                            Afghan proverb

 “The Kite Runner” Narrated:

Birth of Amir’s father is concurrent to the year of King Zaher’s accession to the throne. (King Nader is father of King Zaher, he assassinated due to political motives by a freedom fighter, Abdul Khaliq, a Hazara student, during a football players’ visit in the Estiqlal High school playground. Amir’s grandfather is a judge at this time. This judge has a close relationship with King Nader. They took a picture during dear hunting together a couple of years ago of assassination. By narrator) The judge (he is from Pashtoon ethnic group, Sayed and Sunni, the largest religious group in Afghanistan) has completed the case of a traffic accident resulting in the death of a Hazara couple, hit by a drunk driver in Paghman Way. But Ali, a five-year old son, survived from this accident. The judge took Ali home and raised him in his house, as a servant. Ali is a Hazara (ethnic group from central highlands of Afghanistan) and Shi-a (second largest sect of Islam after Sunni in Afghanistan).

Amir’s father, Agha Saheb, is a merchant. He is married with Sophia Akrami, a literature professor. Amir’s mother is dying during Amir’s birth in 1963. Ali has married with his cousin, Sanaubar who is also Hazara and Shi-a and escapes after five days of giving birth to Hassan and joined a traveling dancers and singers clan. Hassan was born harelipped.  Amir’s father sponsored Hassan’s medical operation several years later and Hassan was cured and could talk perfectly.

Amir attended school in a proper time and got complete support, education and accommodations. Hassan and Ali were busy serving Amir’s family. Hassan could not get the opportunity to go to school, like his father (Ali) who has been raised by Amir’s grandfather since his childhood, and did not get an education. Ali and Hassan had one sort of relationship with their masters, but Amir and his father had a different one to their servants.

During the changing and challenging childhood of Amir and Hassan, Hassan performed sacrifices and showed his friendship faithfulness towards Amir. Even Hassan has been sexually offended by Amir’s rival Asif. Amir didn’t do anything and did not defend Hassan. Because of this behavior, Amir is feeling ashamed. On the top of this, he is trying to make a conspiracy to expel Ali and Hassan from their house by hiding his (Amir) money and his watch under Hassan’s cushion which he received during his birthday party. Amir complains to his father about losing the money and his watch. Hassan did not defend himself from this charge. Ali and Hassan are compelled to shift to Hazarajat, Bamian.

Agha Saheb and Amir Agha due to social chaos and surrounding turmoil and after changing of several servants, they were also compelled to leave the country to Pakistan and after that into California, the USA. Amir and his father are accepting very harsh jobs during their early years of settlement. Amir’s father has died of cancer and Amir is marrying with an Afghan military general’s daughter. After several years they could not have a child.

Rahim Khan, friend and business partner of Amir’s father is calling from Pakistan to come there. He is sick. Amir is traveling there and after a warm welcome and reception, he is cracking the secret that Hassan is his brother. But Hassan has been killed by Taliban in his house in Kabul. Hassan’s son, Sohrab, is kept by Amir’s rival, Asif in Kabul.

Amir is going to Kabul and finds Sohrab. Sohrab is kept as an entertainment monkey for dancing in Asif custody in a cage. For rescuing Sohrab, he is fighting with Asif, his enemy, now he is a figure in Taliban government, inside his office in Kabul. During the fight, Amir is getting serious injuries and several ribs have been broken. Sohrab is attacking by his slingshot on Asif and blinds one of his eyes. Finally Amir and Sohrab are making their way to escape from Taliban office outside and then going to Peshawar, Pakistan. In Peshawar, Taliban still are trying to find them in a hospital. Amir and Sohrab are traveling to Islamabad, the capital of Pakistan. During getting treatment and medication, Amir is getting the US Visa for Sohrab. Amir’s friends and his wife helped him. Finally they are getting to California. Sohrab can not get along with other children easily and Amir and his wife are trying to adjust him in this new environment.

The End

After reading of this novel, some main and general questions may arise, which are:

·    The writer of the novel is considering Ali’s religious beliefs, Shi-a, as Ali’s natural characteristics. Ali remained from his parents while he is just five years old. He was raised in a Sunni and Pashtoon family. How he could be a Shi-a by his religion?

·    The judge is working in the (past) government and he is a close friend of the assassinated king. Shouldn’t this judgment be affected by this relationship? Why or why not?

·    By which authority and constitution, the judge is keeping Ali in his custody as a servant/slave?

·    Why has Ali not been handed over to his next of kin?

·    Ali’s uncle, where did he come from that he then arranged marriage of his daughter with Ali?

·    If Ali is castrated, why is he marrying?

·    Whether the writer with such a family, ethnic and religion relationships, did not write or achieved in such a course of enmity and social suppress and injustice in favor of the tyrant kings in Afghanistan?

·    Actually this novel has some roots in real life of Afghan multi-cultural society.

·    Can the writer get an approval or admiration from a real novel writer?

·    Can the writer translate his book in Afghanistan and get the same recommendations and admirations? Never think so.

Further more there could be tens of questions about this novel. Now, with excuse, coy and begging your pardon, here are some excerpts from the text of the novel for the judgment of impartial readers to evaluate writer’s honesty, psychology, stances, chastity and style of ethic measures according to Afghan society and diasporas around the world.

            Page 6 and 7;

It was in that small shack that Hassan’s mother, Sanaubar, gave birth to him one cold winter day in 1964. While his mother hemorrhaged to death during childbirth, Hassan lost his  less than a week after he was born. Lost her to a fate most Afghans considered far worse than death. She  ran off with a clan of traveling singers and dancer.

"What a tight little sugary cunt she had!"

(This is not a good style of writing in Afghanistan, especially those books which are published for all genders and ages. Can the writer live prosperously amongst the multi-ethnic society of Kabul with this kind of writing? This style of writing never been used publicly in Afghanistan. narrator)

the soldier was say­ing, shaking hands with the others, grinning. Later, in the dark, after the movie had started, I heard Hassan next to me, croaking. Tears were sliding down his cheeks. I reached across my seat, slung my arm around him, pulled him close. He rested his head on my shoulder. "He took you for someone else," I whispered. "He took you for someone else." 

(If somebody tells Amir that you are right, completely right, the soldier had taken Hassan for someone else. Because, according to the writer’s depiction, a Hazara woman with flat nose, narrow eyes, round face like Chinese doll, with no make-ups and good dressing, can not attract or invoke sexual desire of a man. The soldier ought to tell Amir, not Hassan! Can you feel comfort? Actually what is the urgency or importance of depicting a stage like this in a novel generally published for entire public including children, youth girls and boys, women and men, adults and elders? The writer doesn’t know that touching on these sensitive, tumult, and seditious points are not in benefit of any body on the bases of differences of ethnic, religion, linguistics, regional at this time. Fanning these kinds of differences only are pouring water to the mill of the enemies of Afghanistan integrity, progress, development, and peaceful co-existence of all ethnics and tribes residing in motherland. Afghanistan, in the last quarter of century, has paid great price of almost two millions sacrifices and millions of disabled and refugees around the world from all ethnic groups including Pashtoons, Tajiks, Hazaras, Uzbeks, Turkmans, Pasha-ees, Hindos and etc., and destruction of all infrastructures. They all firmly and bravely stood and resisted against the super power invader, internal and external regional enemies of integrity, peace, progress, justice and independence. There are instances of disintegrations of countries into parts during this period around the world. Afghanistan issue is one the most complex and sophisticated global economic-political paradox of the modern time. In spite of all these complexity, she remained intact due to the rich and historic culture of that territory. Whether depicting such a fascistic, seditious, schism, contemptible, enthusiastic irritations of a nation are not unfair and oppressive?!

All Afghans know this that military service for ordinary citizens were two years. When Amir and Hassan wanted to go to see a movie alone, how old should they be at that time? At least ten years, right? How that soldier served at least eleven years in that particular military unit and knew Hassan which he is the son of that woman (Sanaubar) that he sexually offended, next to that creek? According to the novel, Sanaubar has fled home after five days of Hassan’s birth and joined the traveling singers and dancers clan. Whether, medically, is she able to those kinds of activities? Bringing these kinds of events is the writer’s particular Realism or Romantism?? The writer is claiming that his novel is not the kind of novels that one can see in Indian films. Justly, the writer is right; this is not like Indian films that could be evaluated according to the values and measures of a school of literature. All Indian movies are not defendable though.

Those who studied in a school in Kabul know that there was no Istiqlal middle school in Kabul or in whole Afghanistan. There was Istiqlal high school near Arg (Presidential palace) in Kabul. If writer means Istiqlal high school and not Istiqlal middle school, this high school shifted in a military barrack in Shirpoor during building construction of the school. But the military barrack has been relocated to other place around Kabul. Military personnel know that there were no tanks and barrack at that time at all. Whether this is also the writer’s special Realism/Romantism?

In page 9;

"Hey, Babalu, who did you eat today?" they barked to a chorus of laughter. "Who did you eat, you flat-nosed Babalu?" They called him "flat-nosed" because of Ali and Hassan's characteristic Hazara Mongoloid features. For years, that was all I knew about the Hazaras, that they were Mogul descendants, and that they looked a little like Chinese people. School text­books barely mentioned them and referred to their ancestry only in passing. Then one day, I was in Baba's study, looking through his stuff, when I found one of my mother's old history books. It was written by an Iranian named Khorami. I blew the dust off it, sneaked it into bed with me that night, and was stunned to find an entire chapter on Hazara history. An entire chapter dedicated to Hassan's people! In it, I read that my people, the Pashtoons, had persecuted and oppressed the Hazaras. It said the Hazaras had tried to rise against the Pashtoons in the nineteenth century, but the Pashtoons had "quelled them with unspeakable violence." The book said that my people had killed the Hazaras, driven them from their lands, burned their homes, and sold their women. The book said part of the reason Pashtoons had oppressed the Hazaras was that Pashtoons were Sunni Muslims, while Haz­aras were Shi'a. The book said a lot of things I didn't know, things my teachers hadn't mentioned. Things Baba hadn't men­tioned either. It also said some things I did know, like that people called Hazaras mice-eating, flat-nosed, load-carrying donkeys. I had heard some of the kids in the neighborhood yell those names to Hassan.

Excellency the writer, how knowledgeable are you about Afghanistan Hazaras now? What kind of academic researches did you performed and how did you articulated this dark spot of the human tragedy in the history of Afghanistan? Can you refer us to your articulated articles? You just repeated those atrocities once again to make permanent to the memories of those which don’t know about these injustices and oppressions and history of Afghanistan.

Page 9 and 10;

The following week, after class, I showed the book to my teacher and pointed to the chapter on the Hazaras. He skimmed through a couple of pages, snickered, handed the book back. "That's the one thing Shi'a people do well," he said, picking up his papers, "passing themselves as martyrs." He wrinkled his nose when he said the word Shi'a, like it was some kind of disease.

And later we read;

the moment Sanaubar had given birth to Hassan. It had been a simple enough affair. No obstetricians, no anesthesiologists, no fancy monitoring devices. Just Sanaubar lying on a stained, naked mat­tress with Ali and a midwife helping her. She hadn't needed much help at all, because, even in birth, Hassan was true to his nature: He was incapable of hurting anyone. A few grunts, a couple of pushes, and out came Hassan. Out he came smiling. As confided to a neighbor's servant by the garrulous midwife, who had then in turn told anyone who would listen, Sanaubar had taken one glance at the baby in Ali's arms, seen the cleft lip, and barked a bitter laughter. "There," she had said. "Now you have your own idiot child to do all your smiling for you!" She had refused to even hold Hassan, and just five days later, she was gone.

Don’t know whether the writer himself was witnessed those events in his one year age or some body reported to him? Maybe this is a new kind of Romantism? The translation of very famous song in Afghanistan is just incorrect.

            On a high mountain I stood,

                Bring joy to our sorrowful hearts.

Page 13;

It took three years to build the orphanage. I was eight by then. I remember the day before the orphanage opened, Baba took me to Ghargha Lake, a few miles north of Kabul.

The writer is not familiar to Kabul map and geography, Qargha Lake, not Ghargha Lake, is located in the west part of Kabul not north of Kabul. Maybe there is Ghargha Lake undiscovered in Kabul so far. Great discovery! I suggest that lake to be named after the inventor of the lake, Khalid Lake!

Page 63;

The biggest prize of all was still flying. I sliced a bright yellow kite with a coiled white tail.

 Kite runners know that the kind of kites which are fighters in Kabul, don’t have coiled tails! Do you know in what season and which direction the wind blow in Kabul?

Page 67;

Finally, I had my kite in hand. I wrapped the loose string that had collected at my feet around the spool, shook a few more hands, and trotted home. When I reached the wrought-iron gates, Ali was waiting on the other side. He stuck his hand through the bars. "Congratulations," he said.

Heads would turn and eyes would lock. Rostam and Sohrab sizing, each other up. A dramatic moment of silence. Then the old warrior would walk to the young one, embrace him, acknowledge his Worthiness. Vindication. Salvation. Redemption. And then? Well... happily ever after, of course. What else?

What a wrong and un-appropriated analogy and misusing of rich mythology? Greatness, Firmness, Confidentiality, Clearness, Faithfulness, Honesty, Respectfulness, Sacrifice, Bravery, Magnanimity, Humanity and … depicted from Rostam and Sohrab in Shah-Nama don’t have least rational and relation with Amir and his father. Adopting those characteristics and attaching to them is just unfair and irrelevant. Where were Rostam and Sohrab and where are Amir and his father? 

Page 68

Four streets south of ours, I saw Omar, the son of an engineer who was a friend of Baba's. He was dribbling a soccer ball with his brother on the front lawn of their house. Omar was a pretty good guy. We'd been classmates in fourth grade, and one time he'd given me a fountain pen, the kind you had to load with a cartridge. "I heard you won, Amir," he said. "Congratulations."

By the time I reached the marketplace, the sun had almost sunk behind the hills and-dusk had painted the sky pink and pur­ple. A few blocks away, from the Haji Yaghoub Mosque, the mul­lah bellowed azan, calling for the faithful to unroll their rugs and bow their heads west in prayer. Hassan never missed any of the five daily prayers. Even when we were out playing, he'd excuse himself, draw water from the well in the yard, wash up, and dis­appear into the hut. He'd come out a few minutes later, smiling, find me sitting against the wall or perched on a tree. He was going to miss prayer tonight, though, because of me.

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