A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini

I started A Thousands Splendid Suns one evening before bed, and that poor paperback went everywhere I did for the next 3 days.

Mariam's unwavering hope, even as an unwanted, manipulated child, broke my heart. The journey to adulthood treated her no better, and constantly I wondered just how much more Mariam could take. Regardless of setting, location, era, we all know a woman like Mariam. Or wish we did. Stoic. Strong. Unflappable.

Mariam is resigned to her lot in life, until her husband takes on another unwilling bride. Through the eyes of these two women, I saw horror and poverty unimaginable to those of us fortunate enough to have been born in another place, another time. But this is a modern reality, one that too many live out every day, in different areas of the world.

Hosseini writes beautifully, somehow wrapping the most deceptive and despicable actions human nature has to offer in flowing, romantic prose; not diluting the tragedy of Mariam's life, but magnifying it with perfectly descriptive dialogue and fully developed characters, likeable or not.

A Thousand Splendid Suns, certainly suitable for readers of either sex, should resonate especially with women. I definitely felt a sense of vindication with the element of "girl power," after slogging through such heavy oppression for much of the book. That oppression, though, runs even now in the undercurrent of Western society, and certainly closer to the surface, even bubbling over in areas, elsewhere in the world.

Hosseini's work made me feel appalled at how bad circumstances can be, and therefore grateful that my own are not. It made me hopeful that, recognizing these conditions still exist and are commonplace in areas, we can all be as strong as Mariam turned out to be, whether that strength is designed to force change, or just to withstand the brutality.

A Thousand Splendid Suns