I just finished reading The Kite Runner, by Khaled Housseini.
I think by now, if you’re familiar with my blog at all, you know that, while I love to read, I usually choose a lighter fare. (Not that you can call Patricia Cornwell “light,” but her work is hardly profound.)
I bought it yesterday afternoon on a whim — it was on sale at Borders and I’d heard wonderful things about Housseini’s second book, A Thousand Splendid Suns — and started reading it at about 10 p.m. last night.
I finished it five minutes ago.
While I have always been a very fast reader, I can’t say that I normally read this voraciously, with the exception of the Harry Potter books. But I absolutely could not put this book down.
Words fail me as I attempt to describe exactly what it was that struck me so. It is beautifully written. It is searing and haunting and sobering and uplifting and redemptive and inspiring all at once, if that is even possible.
I hope to see the movie this week.
And I think I’ll pick up A Thousand Splendid Suns this week as well.
