A friend recently invited me to a new Meetup group for Muslim families in Bergen County. I know my husband will have little interest in this, as it is another social media network, and he says he hates social media (or at least pretends to, while he does have a Facebook, LInked In & Twitter account).
So I am attending their first book club meeting next weekend. Husbands are invited, but I won't extend this to my husband as I know he has too much on his plate for me to even ask. On the other hand, I have been overjoyed to start picking up books again. I am loving reading again, and while the baby does not make it easy, there are those rare moments where she grabs a book of her own and joins me on the sofa. Plus she has recently started "reading" out loud herself, which is a series of words she knows, intertwined with babble. But to my ears, it is music.
The first choice of the book club is "The Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins. I have to admit a while back I read a quick summary of this book on Wikipedia and it did not interest me. In fact I would not have read it now, except that my friend Maleeha handed me her copy, so I had no reason not to. That was yesterday. Less than 24 hours and 374 pages later, I am done. Perhaps this is a recurring theme with me, but I could not put it down. Now that I think about it, it is recurring, but often has little to do with the quality of the book, just my need to know the ending NOW.
But in this case, I loved the book. I believe this book is aimed at an audience at least a decade younger than me, but since I've never really grown up, I really enjoyed reading it.
I really don't want to give much away as it is a long story, and shocking story at times. However the author has done a great job of making it real; I feel like it can happen, must happen in some part of the world. Not in my neighborhood, where survival means driving to the closest supermarket, and turning up the thermostat. But I know in other parts of the world people have to do whatever they can do to ward off starvation, a major part of this book. Could I do the same, where I pushed to struggle for my own existence? I pray to Allah that I never have to find out.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
The Screwtape Letters/ The Help
Next up on my reading list was C.S. Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters." I read the first chapter, and about half of the second, and felt I was done, I had read the whole book.
The book consists of chapters, which are actually letters written from the Devil to his "henchmen" on how to deceive and mislead men. An interesting point was made in the first chapter, and that was not to allow man think or reason, to keep his distracted and focused on trivial, worldly matters. That way there would be no room in his head for the constant reminder of God. I liked the chapter well enough.
The first half of the second chapter seemed practically identical, the same tone, the same vocabulary. That's what I decided to move on to the next book.
The next book recommended to me was "The Help" by Katheryn Stockett. I could not put this book down. It was written very well, flowing between the viewpoints of different characters, so you could almost imagine what each person went through. And that made it hard to hate anyone. Well almost anyone.
It's the story of a white woman working with the African American help in well to do white houses in Jackson, Mississippi, telling their stories. Among them are bad ones and good ones, stories where the help is treated with kindness and generosity, yet all the while maintaining their position as the help. Never ever really on the same field as their employers.
As you can imagine, the characters trying to tell these stories were at great danger of being found out, though it wasn't something stressed in the book. As I read, my heart was constantly on edge, praying for them to succeed without being caught in the act.
I'd like to be more in depth with my review, but it's been a few weeks since I finished it. I loved it, and now that I have read the book, I want to watch the movie. I am sure it will pale in comparison, but I still expect to be entertained.
The book consists of chapters, which are actually letters written from the Devil to his "henchmen" on how to deceive and mislead men. An interesting point was made in the first chapter, and that was not to allow man think or reason, to keep his distracted and focused on trivial, worldly matters. That way there would be no room in his head for the constant reminder of God. I liked the chapter well enough.
The first half of the second chapter seemed practically identical, the same tone, the same vocabulary. That's what I decided to move on to the next book.
The next book recommended to me was "The Help" by Katheryn Stockett. I could not put this book down. It was written very well, flowing between the viewpoints of different characters, so you could almost imagine what each person went through. And that made it hard to hate anyone. Well almost anyone.
It's the story of a white woman working with the African American help in well to do white houses in Jackson, Mississippi, telling their stories. Among them are bad ones and good ones, stories where the help is treated with kindness and generosity, yet all the while maintaining their position as the help. Never ever really on the same field as their employers.
As you can imagine, the characters trying to tell these stories were at great danger of being found out, though it wasn't something stressed in the book. As I read, my heart was constantly on edge, praying for them to succeed without being caught in the act.
I'd like to be more in depth with my review, but it's been a few weeks since I finished it. I loved it, and now that I have read the book, I want to watch the movie. I am sure it will pale in comparison, but I still expect to be entertained.
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