Recently I was painfully reminded that just because I think a certain book is amazing, not everyone will agree with me. Looks like I’ll be apologizing to my sister for years after taking her to see the movie, “The Kite Runner.”
To say I was captivated by the book is an understatement: it is more accurate to say I was kidnapped. After reading 75 pages the first night, it was all I could do to get through work the next day and back to the book. After speed-walking the dogs, I settled in and read until I finished it, shortly before midnight. Early the next day I handed it to my mother, who corresponds with several soldiers currently stationed in Afghanistan. As a result of their letters she harbors much curiosity about Afghani history and culture. As soon as she had finished it, we invited my sister to the movie. Having a two year-old gives her little free time to read much of anything, so she did not have the written story to fall back on when we entered the theatre. Accordingly, the movie hit her like a runaway freight train.
Oops.
This story is filled with suspense and elaborately-fleshed out characters that we are allowed to follow from childhood to adulthood. This much I told my sister. I think I left out some of the violence. The unimaginable horrors and heartbreak, along with the main character’s struggle for redemption, are what make it impossible to put this book down. In a theatre, however, all it drew from my sister was tears and multiple icy stares in my direction. I shrank as far as I could into my seat, but it was to no avail. A conciliatory offer of Kleenex was met with a solid flip of the bird. She was not happy. A little earlier she had leaned over and whispered that if there were subtitles along with the heavy drama, my life might be in danger. It was at that moment that the characters began conversing in the Pashto language. It was very hard to enjoy comparing the Pashto to my fledgling knowledge of Farsi with my sister throwing daggers at me throughout.
Though author Khaled Hosseini provides breathtaking descriptions of the cities and countrysides of Afghanistan and Pakistan, my mother and I were still anxious to see the book come alive. Part of me just wanted to see how—or if—they could even accomplish it. Tense personal stories woven seamlessly into Afghanistan’s dramatic political changes make this story require a seven-day miniseries instead of a two-hour movie.
Thankfully, the cinematography provided us the visual backdrop we craved. The aerial scenes of dueling kites were utterly mesmerizing, and I still haven’t figured out how they shot them. Though personally disappointed at the numerous scenes that had to be cut for time’s sake, later we were relieved that my sister was at least spared some heartbreak—a fact she didn’t seem to fully appreciate as we left the theatre. I hadn’t even left the bathroom afterwards when a text message appeared on my phone. “You suck. I am never going to another movie with you. Ever.” I kept telling her, “If only you’d read the book…” but something tells me that is never going to happen.
I’m still playing with the idea of getting her a kite for her birthday this summer. I’ll let you know how that goes…
To say I was captivated by the book is an understatement: it is more accurate to say I was kidnapped. After reading 75 pages the first night, it was all I could do to get through work the next day and back to the book. After speed-walking the dogs, I settled in and read until I finished it, shortly before midnight. Early the next day I handed it to my mother, who corresponds with several soldiers currently stationed in Afghanistan. As a result of their letters she harbors much curiosity about Afghani history and culture. As soon as she had finished it, we invited my sister to the movie. Having a two year-old gives her little free time to read much of anything, so she did not have the written story to fall back on when we entered the theatre. Accordingly, the movie hit her like a runaway freight train.
Oops.
This story is filled with suspense and elaborately-fleshed out characters that we are allowed to follow from childhood to adulthood. This much I told my sister. I think I left out some of the violence. The unimaginable horrors and heartbreak, along with the main character’s struggle for redemption, are what make it impossible to put this book down. In a theatre, however, all it drew from my sister was tears and multiple icy stares in my direction. I shrank as far as I could into my seat, but it was to no avail. A conciliatory offer of Kleenex was met with a solid flip of the bird. She was not happy. A little earlier she had leaned over and whispered that if there were subtitles along with the heavy drama, my life might be in danger. It was at that moment that the characters began conversing in the Pashto language. It was very hard to enjoy comparing the Pashto to my fledgling knowledge of Farsi with my sister throwing daggers at me throughout.
Though author Khaled Hosseini provides breathtaking descriptions of the cities and countrysides of Afghanistan and Pakistan, my mother and I were still anxious to see the book come alive. Part of me just wanted to see how—or if—they could even accomplish it. Tense personal stories woven seamlessly into Afghanistan’s dramatic political changes make this story require a seven-day miniseries instead of a two-hour movie.
Thankfully, the cinematography provided us the visual backdrop we craved. The aerial scenes of dueling kites were utterly mesmerizing, and I still haven’t figured out how they shot them. Though personally disappointed at the numerous scenes that had to be cut for time’s sake, later we were relieved that my sister was at least spared some heartbreak—a fact she didn’t seem to fully appreciate as we left the theatre. I hadn’t even left the bathroom afterwards when a text message appeared on my phone. “You suck. I am never going to another movie with you. Ever.” I kept telling her, “If only you’d read the book…” but something tells me that is never going to happen.
I’m still playing with the idea of getting her a kite for her birthday this summer. I’ll let you know how that goes…
3 comments:
If she had read the book the movie would have been a breeze for her. However, I think it will be a long long time before we get her to go to any more movies with us.
Mom
Too bad she couldn't have gone to Sweeney Todd with us...now that was an uplifting movie.
Dad
OK, I got the message. I'll read the book first.
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