Showing posts with label anti-war. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anti-war. Show all posts

Friday, July 10, 2020

"I Am Malala," by Malala Yousafzai--Nonfiction Review

Hey, it’s Friday, so as the song goes, let’s take a look, it’s in a book, and we can go anywhere. So why don’t we take a trip to Pakistan, specifically to the Swat valley during the time the Taliban occupied the valley? I was fired from my first day on the Reading Rainbow by the way—but anyway, today’s book is “I Am Malala” by Malala Yousafzai.   

Malala Yousafzai



What I love about this book:

This book scratches the same itch and feeling as “The Kite Runner” but has the added dimension of being about a real person. You get a snapshot of the culture as seen through Malala’s eyes, and the book puts a human face to the Pashtun people living in the Swat valley. 

Malala’s bravery is the same stuff they wrote epic poems about in antiquity—but in all of those, the hero is usually some burly man slaying some monster. Malala, on the other hand, surpasses that in her attempt to reason with people as far gone as Taliban true believers because it’s the right thing to do according to her interpretation of her faith. She stood up to the radicals and argued that women deserve an education, full well knowing that the Taliban’s typical rebuttal to a viewpoint that they disagree with usually involves a Kalashnikov and a lot of bullets. Then after she was shot in the head by the Taliban and nearly dies, she still makes it her life’s work to fight for women’s rights. 

I admire her candor in telling her story as a young woman in a culture that is by any western standard, is very hard on all women. Still, it’s kind of nice to read about little details of her life, like her and her friend reading the Twilight novels, and her father taking her whole class on field trips. These heartwarming little anecdotes break up the truly terrifying parts when the Taliban came to the Swat valley and generally ruined everything.

Another thing I respect about her honesty is that Malala never tries to describe herself as a perfect person. In fact, she tells numerous stories about how she could be petty, a little vain, and sometimes jealous. It makes her seem like a real person, which of course, she is since this isn’t fiction. As a flawed person, her bravery to stand up to and try to reason with literal murderers seems even more heroic.  


What I don’t love about this book:

After the horror-filled introduction, which is read by the author, if you go in for the audiobook version, there is a bit of a wait until we get into Malala’s story. She had opted to tell the story of her father’s life and her mother’s before she was born. I don’t begrudge her that, clearly, she loves her father—her mother too—and her father seems like an extraordinary man in his own right—but if I’m nitpicky, and I am, it does go on for a while. 

On the subject of things I don’t like that happened, and not to be confused with a suggestion of not including them in the book, I find it disheartening how western culture has often failed these people. A popular self-inflicted myth of Americans is we tend to see ourselves as the heroes of the world. We do this without so much as polling the rest of the world for their opinion on the matter. 

Turns out, at best, we come off as paternalistic and patronizing—at worst, greedy imperialists in all but name only who don’t care about other people’s sovereignty. That viewpoint was greatly exasperated and underscored in Malala’s narrative when President Obama sent in our Navy Seals to raid Osama Bin Laden’s compound, and ultimately kill him, without so much as a howdy doody to the Pakistani government explaining our intentions. President Obama took that action for operational security reasons so as to not tip off the target, was that the right call? I’m not qualified to second guess him on that point, so I’m of the belief that I’d just have to take his word for that was the case. It’s not like the president particularly cares about my—a random schmuck on the internet—opinion. Anyway, I can see her point on why the Pakistani people were upset about the whole thing. 


This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 
as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

Author's Website: https://www.malala.org/

Parting thoughts:

When I was a freshman in college, I had a professor loosely “teach” us about the geography and society of the Swat valley. It wasn’t until nearly a decade later, when I read this book that I had the realization that, oh, that professor was a racist. This professor explained to my class that those people were all warlike and are unconquerable because they train all of their children to be warriors. One of the “practices” this professor taught of the people of the Swat valley is mothers would randomly slap their children, unprovoked by anything, to teach them the valuable lesson that life is capricious and violent and condition them for the eventual rigors of the battlefield. 

Like most good bullshit, there is a kernel of something that is part of the truth. The people of the Swat valley historically speaking were very good at setting aside their numerous differences to repel invaders. Malala even talks about a famous battle where the Pashtuns, a group of people spread out between Afghanistan and Pakistan, including the Swat Valley, repelled the British, and fun trivia it’s the same battle where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Dr. Watson was injured. The whole slapping babies part of the lesson? Utter made up nonsense as far as I can tell, but who knows, maybe someone somewhere does that, but I’m pretty sure that would be a disturbed individual, not a cultural norm. Like I said in my “The Kite Runner” review, my vision of what the Swat valley was like had been warped by the general perception that everything that is reminiscent of the middle east—or middle east adjacent in Pakistan’s case—is endless desert.

Clearly, with this photo from Wikipedia, you can see that it isn’t true.



To think, in a place so beautiful, some of the worst modern-day atrocities happen. If there is a God who created everything and everyone, it’s hard to imagine that shooting children in the head for the crime of being a woman and wishing for an education was what he had in mind.  

Friday, July 3, 2020

"Slaughterhouse-Five," by Kurt Vonnegut--Fiction Review

Today we’re going to talk about “Slaughterhouse-Five” by Kurt Vonnegut, the novel that made that man’s career. Sometimes, the hype is real, and while my personal favorite Vonnegut story is “Sirens of Titan,” I felt I should talk about the most well known Vonnegut story first. 

“Slaughterhouse-Five” is a hard story to classify because Vonnegut was one of those literary darlings who didn’t constrain himself to any one mere genre. But since I hate the dreaded catch-all “fiction,” classification let’s give it a shot—“Slaughterhouse-Five” certainly has its share of science fiction elements, with the time travel and whatnot. However, I’d probably have to peg it most accurately as a darkly humorous anti-war novel. 

Kurt Vonnegut



***The Non-Spoiler part of this review***


What I love about this book:

To steal a descriptor I find fitting that I had read about a character in a novel I’d read recently, Kurt Vonnegut was cheerfully disappointed in the entirety of the human experience. His writing captures that feeling at all times. While typically, I consider myself an optimist or would like to think I make an effort at being an optimist, and let’s face it I’m probably just a deluded pessimist. It’s sometimes fun to read someone’s work, which takes the diametrically opposite outlook on life. That’s why I love Kurt Vonnegut’s work, including this book, he reminds me that no one and nothing should take itself so seriously.

The time and place Vonnegut manages to conjure with his writing specifically when he’s talking about Dresden. He talks about his brief impressions of the city before the firebombing, immediately afterward, and years later. In the section immediately after the bombing, when the POWs are conscripted to sift through the ruins, I was especially disturbed by his description of the hunt for bodies as being the worst Easter Egg hunt ever. It’s that jarring contrast that makes Vonnegut’s writing powerful. 


What I don’t love about this book:

Kurt Vonnegut is often remembered or accused of being pretentious, and it’s a charge that even if you don’t agree with it, you can see the argument for, even in “Slaughterhouse-Five.” There are numerous times where Vonnegut delves into metaphysics in this novel that become eye-crossing tedious to follow. It’s especially likely to happen when he discusses his beloved aliens, the Tralfamadorians, which normally I’m thrilled by the inclusion of space aliens.   

Another thing I’m not a fan of is the numerous and varied characters don’t develop. They are precisely the same people when you meet them as when they leave the scene forever. Part of this, is there are a lot of them, when you have a large cast of named characters it’s hard to give them all the spotlight to grow and change—but nobody does. It makes sense why Billy doesn’t change throughout the book—he’s unstuck in time and experienced all the moments of his life and therefore has nothing to cause him to change or grow. The other characters orbiting Billy, make less sense, though. If I were to hazard a guess, the implicit messaging is all characters are like Billy, they just can’t perceive it as he can, and therefore no one is capable of change. I get it—it’s just not something that resonates with me.   


This preview is an Amazon Affiliate link; 
as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

***The Spoiler part of this review***
***Ye be warned to turn back now***