The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner was the first book I read out of the three, and let me begin by saying that I have the upmost respect for Khaled Hosseini for writing such a great piece of literature. When the lengthy novel arrived at my doorstep, I somewhat dreaded the fact of having to take time out of my summer schedule to sit down and actually begin reading and annotating the book. Fortunately, to my surprise, I found myself having difficulty setting the book down; it was such an engrossing piece of fiction. The eloquence Hosseini demonstrated in his writing was remarkable. There were sections in which I found myself smiling how perfectly Hosseini explained what he had to say. “Every woman needed a husband. Even if he did silence the song in her.” I read this sentence over multiple times baffled by how in one line, Hosseini described the relationship between Soraya’s mother and father—and how it made sense to me.

 I loved the way Hosseini described Hassan and Amir’s relationship. It was so precious, and after reading the alley part, I hated Amir. I hated him for ruining such a strong friendship. I hated him for being a coward, for being dishonest, and for being greedy. Hassan never deserved any of that. Hassan was loyal, honest, and selfless. I felt pain for Hassan. I wanted nothing more than for Hassan to have the life he’s always dreamed of and for Amir to have to live with redemption. Sadly, in the end, that’s not how it turned out. I was heartbroken when Amir found out Hassan had been shot and that his only son had become an orphan. It was sad, but Hosseini did an excellent job in using contrasting ideas to describe the main characters. I believe that his purpose for this was to show that no matter how different these two were, in the end, they were still connected through blood. It made Hassan and Amir’s relationship seem stronger, and made the reader empathize with the novel even more.

There have been few books in which I have actually cried while reading them, and I thought for sure that The Kite Runner would add to that list—but it didn’t. Rather, I found a sort of emptiness within me. It was a mix of sadness, sympathy, and satisfaction all dealt into one emotion. I didn’t want the book to end the way it did, but at the same time, I wouldn’t have wanted it to end any other way. It made no sense, and that takes serious talent from the author. Amir finally deserved the silence he had that night in the alley, and he got it from the only person who would’ve truly impacted him--Hassan’s son, his own nephew. Amir needed to be punished for his actions to finally rid of the guilt he’s had to live with for so long. It was hard for me to sympathize with Amir-- The last line; however, did cause me to slightly change my opinion of Amir. “For you a thousand times over.” I loved it: It was simple. It was perfect.