wellfedpages's reviews
9 reviews

The Quarter by Naguib Mahfouz

hopeful mysterious reflective fast-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

A mighty microcosm

Minutiae of meaning

Tiny parables teeming with possibilities

A slice of life

Evocative of oral stories

Old wives tales

Your grandma’s bedtime sagas

Had she still been telling them when you grew up

A simple form perfected with precision

Economical words packed with meditations

No frills

No lyrical prose

Not even any descriptions of the place - The Quarter

Naguib Mahfouz writes from the vantage point of an old storyteller on the street corner

who has told a thousand tales about the place established his setting long ago

He doesn’t need to reacquaint us with this worn out world

Either we have read his older stories

Or we have read other writers from Egypt

Or watched films & shows

Or flipped through old magazines

Or been assuaged online with images of Cairo

He trusts us to conjure up an image of this lively dusty old quarter from memory & imagination

What he is more interested in are the people who inhabit this space

What moves them

What muddles them

What motivates them

Their 

joys

sorrows

trials

tribulations

jealousies

rivalries

loves

losses

grief

illusions

& banalities

And perhaps a hint of nostalgia for the places, people & a way of life that is slipping away with the sands of time

Yet he manages to glean their quiet beauty from the few grains that he is still clutching on to

There are parts which are tinged with sexism & puritanism

But this is reflective of both the time when these stories were written - 3 or 4 decades ago

And the society where these tales stem from

One where beauty, meekness & piety were/are considered the biggest virtues of a woman

That’s annoying

But there’s still a motley of characters shedding light on all corners of society through these meandering lanes

The broken

The beaten

The believers

The hypocrites

The kind souls

The fake showmans

The arrogant

The greedy

The jealous & insecure

The Shakespearian jesters

The wise grey souls

The sanity of the insane

The insanity of the normalised

There is so much to unearth in these 18 tiny tales discovered in a drawer after his death

You can keep looking at them again & again

And discover a new facet each time

He had so much to sayand he said it so beautifully

Also read the foreword by Elif Shafak where she tells the interesting story of how she discovered Mahfouz’s work, the introduction by the translator Roger Allen

& Mahfouz’s own Nobel Prize speech at the end of the book

He points out many things

How the burden of equality lies on the more privileged

Every life matters

Creativity does not discriminate by race, class, gender or geographical location

Real humanity is not just caring for those who are like us & around us, but those who are different & far away

We should never lose hope

Peace is possible

Or so he believed

But above all he raised his voice against the inequalities, injustices, discrimination & despotism that he saw around him

And inspires us to do the same

Sometimes all you need is one voice to speak the truth

And a thousand echoes follow

Blue Nights by Joan Didion

challenging emotional reflective sad slow-paced

‘Let me just be in the ground and go to sleep'

- Quintana

What to say about a book that leaves you torn to shreds

I did not cry while reading this book

But crying is not the only sign of sadness, or feeling anything deeply

Crying is an outlet for something that splinters much deeper

It's wonderful if you can

But not everyone can. Or does. Or wants to

A friend once told me I should cry more

As if crying was like turning on a tap

When you have calcified into a certain person, you don't turn into someone else overnight

That is if you change at all

Which is only if you want to, or life shapes you to

I wonder if she would suggest that to a man

Perhaps not

Men don't cry. That is the natural order of things. Even if you do try to chip away at toxic masculinity

Women not crying is unnatural, cold, psychopathic

Because god forbid a woman shows a strong façade or keeps her grief private

Perhaps then I am a man

The only logical explanation for being the way I am, because last I checked I am not a psychopath

But what has that got to do with this book you ask?

Well it's a melancholy meditation on mortality, motherhood, memory and the middling circumstances we call life

And yes it's heart-breaking

Though each heart breaks differently

So let's not compare our shattered pieces

'When we talk about mortality we are talking about our children'

I don't have children, but her pain pierced through my cold little heart

Adoption, fear of abandonment, search for identity, the crippling fear of failing as a mother and ageing alone are things that she gently draws out from her boxes of memories and lays out for us in a new light

It also brought up personal feelings related to illness & hospitalization

How to faint on your bedroom floor and wake up in a pool of blood

How to insert cameras into your body

How to get afraid of getting up from a chair 

to name a few

I also felt seen by certain passages in a way I rarely have

'I was short, I was thin, I could circle my wrists with my thumb and index finger. My earliest memories involve being urged by my mother to gain weight, as if my failure to do so were willful, an act of rebellion

'I ask what caused this neuritis, this neuropathy, this neurological inflammation.

Not weighing enough, he answers.

It does not escape me that the consensus on what is wrong with me has once again insinuated the ball in my court.

…

I drink the protein shakes.

I eat the freshly laid eggs from the farm in New Jersey and the perfect vanilla ice cream from Maison du Chocolat on Madison Avenue.

Nonetheless.

I do not gain weight.'

Didion's life dug deep into mine

Just like the opening lines by Quintana

Her passing away was sadly perhaps the petfect time to read this book

It's not just about losing a child, but a quest to know whether she knew that child at all, whether any of us can ever truly know another person, even if we know them intimately, even if we raise them.

We can keep trying to run through life, but as Didion reminds us -

'By that evening when the play closed it seemed clear that I had in fact maintained momentum, but it also seemed clear that maintaining momentum came at a certain cost...One phrase that came to mind that night was "pushing yourself". Another was "beyond endurance".'

So the question is, how far will you keep pushing?

---

Content Warnings

Graphic: Death, Suicidal thoughts, Medical content, and Grief

Minor: Alcoholism

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto

emotional hopeful reflective sad slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes

Grief is a bird that sings at night

But few can hear it

The cold slinks in with the moonlight

And weary pages turn with a leaden hand

But grief, it sits still like a dew drop

Waiting to seep in into your bones

Curled at the edge of the page

Piercing your finger with words

Of the 2 stories in this #TranslatedGems selection that I read for #JanuaryInJapan I liked #Kitchen more

Both were written beautifully, weaving in themes of loss, grief, pain, sadness, isolation, loneliness, the need for companionship, the drudgery of breathing day in day out when life has been snuffed out of your soul and the way food can not only rekindle old memories, but help build new ones, one meal at a time

Kitchen has the healing touch of friendship & chosen family. The two people connected by loss here still retain their individuality & space, while being there for each other.

It is a relationship rooted deeply in trust & self-respect, which is why perhaps I relate to and like it more.

It also has more diverse characters, even if some of the trans representation is a bit dated

Moonlight Shadow has the captivating touch of magic realism, but I did not like it that much because -

I find people who constantly cheat on or remain with constantly cheating partners proclaiming to be 'in love' a mockery of the word love

While I'm not sure exactly what love is, I'm sure of this - love cannot exist without respect and trust

And someone who breaks your trust is NOT in love with you, because they choose to hurt & disrespect you. Neither are you if you do the same.

You do not hurt someone you love, whether it is with cheating or dishonesty

So what I think certain characters here or people who can't fathom the above concepts are really mourning for is habit

They are used to a person being around all the time and that being snatched away leaves a hole in their heart & life

But habit is not love

SPOILERS

Questions that popped up while I was reading the 2nd story

Satsuki admits both she & Hitoshi cheated on each other many times, was Hitoshi still cheating on her when he died?

Why does Urara go to the bridge?

Is Urara the other woman?

What is Banana Yoshimoto hinting?

Does Urara go to the bridge because that's where the event is supposed to happen or because like Satsuki the bridge has some special significance for her?

Hiiragi has a similar experience in his room on the same morning. Clearly the river is not the only place where such things can happen.

Why does Urara's expression change on the bridge when she thinks Satsuki is no longer looking?

Does she realize with horror that Hitoshi not only met her but also Satsuki at the bridge?

Was Hitoshi a serial womanizer, who for all his kindness played the same tricks on every woman?

Did Urara know about Satsuki's existence and was still having an affair with Hitoshi, but she wrongly thought the bridge was their special place?

Is that why her demeanor changes after Satsuki tells her her name?

How does Urara get Satsuki's number?

She says it just came to her like magic, and considering certain other supernatural elements of the story one tends to accept it, but what if that's not the case?

What if Urara knew Satsuki's phone number because she knew exactly who Satsuki was?

Or finds out the number once Satsuki tells her her name?

How does Urara know where Satsuki lives?

Magical powers again?

Or by finding out more about Satsuki? 

Or maybe by following Satsuki?

Satsuki herself follows Hiiragi at one point, so the theme of being watched & followed is already there

Is Yoshimoto giving us a clue here?

Does Urara invite Satsuki to partake in the event because she realizes like her Satsuki is mourning for Hitoshi and wants her to also have closure?

Is this her way of making amends?

Does Urara also see what Satsuki saw, or does she see something different?

Did Hitoshi really love Satsuki?

If he was with both women, did he love either at all?

Or are both women seeing a projection of what they want to see?

Are the visions an embodiment of what Hitoshi is trying to say to them, or simply what they want to hear?

Is the closure delusional?

Is it good even if it is delusional?

What is more important, to move on holding on to a false memory (and aren't all memories altered with time) or to know the truth?

Moonlight Shadow left me rattled with all these questions

But Kitchen, just like a good meal that you prepare carefully at 2 AM, left me contently contemplating the wisps of time billowing through the night sky

'But now I feel it in my gut. Why is that we have so little choice? We live like the lowliest worms. Always defeated - defeated we make dinner, we eat, we sleep. Everyone we love is dying. Still, to cease living is unacceptable.'

---

Content Warnings

Graphic: Death, Grief, and Death of parent

Minor: Infidelity

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro

challenging dark mysterious reflective sad tense slow-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

Never Let Me Go or Let Tommy Go And Live Your Life Girl

How do you know you are real?

What makes someone human?

What is humanity?
Consciousness?
Soul?

If you can raise animals to slaughter, why not humans?
If not to slaughter, to use in other ways

Where is the line?

Dystopias just take reality one step further
A step we are heading towards
Perhaps a step we have already half taken

Like here

But what has that got to do with Tommy?

Well other than exploring the above dilemmas, it also shows how an unreliable narrator leads to a tinted truth

SPOILERS

We only see things through Kathy's eyes

Tommy is the good guy, even though he seeks constant validation
Ruth is the villain, because she does not care about his ego

But is that the truth?

Ruth does many careless & hurtful things
But Kathy is mean to Ruth too
So is Tommy and he hurts Ruth in his own way

But we never hear from Ruth
Or Tommy for that matter

Kathy is clearly in love with Tommy and feels Ruth came between them
Ruth admits this eventually, tries to undo the harm
But Tommy says nothing
Nobody forces someone to be with another person
Even if Ruth did come between them, why did Tommy choose to be with her? Twice
Because she is more attractive?
Or because he felt something for her?
Why does Tommy only choose Kathy after Ruth is almost dying?
And even then why are certain things amiss in their relationship?
Are they simply beaten down by life?
Or is he not attracted to her in the same way?
Does he still feel something for Ruth?
Is it guilt?
Does he choose Kathy because there is no future with Ruth?
Is Kathy his ticket to a few more years?
Does he like Kathy more because she validates him? 
Or does he just like the validation and not Kathy at all?
Does he hate Ruth because she does not validate him? 
Or does he hate himself because he doesn't know what he wants?
Is he just a selfish piece of shit, or is it more complicated than that?
Isn't he really the person who came between Kathy and Ruth?
Is Ruth a better person because she ultimately chooses her friend?
Or is it too little too late?

The mess that they make of their lives is what makes them human

Kazuo Ishiguro simply raises the questions

The answers are all ours

We are left wondering about these flawed characters.

The book beautifully captures how humanity is a murky construct, 

how we are all just tiny driftwoods clinging to each other in the endless stream of time, 

and how female friendships are incredibly fragile, especially when a man comes between them.

Sadly, the women here do not put their friendship first and dump him, that is a feminist approach I'm still waiting to see in stories like this

But perhaps women in real life rarely do that, and Ishiguro simply shows us the mirror

Even if the shell of their friendship remains, it's hollowed out by time

Perhaps that is closer to truth

Maybe there are a few Ruth's in the end

But that is the problem, it's almost always in the end

Started this for Dystopian December but completed this in Jan

Did I like it?

Of course

Confused people and complicated relationships are great, on paper

---

Content Warnings

Minor: Toxic relationship and Toxic friendship

Ms Ice Sandwich by Mieko Kawakami

emotional funny hopeful reflective medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

Beauty lies...

in the eyes of the beholder?

or a clinical ratio?

This was a sweet story about childhood love / crush, heartbreak, friendship & familial bonds that also challenges the notion of who / what is beautiful.

What is it that draws someone to another person?

Is it just surface beauty or is it something more?

Is there really something wrong with #MsIceSandwich ?

Or is it something that people made up because she was too different, too confident, didn't give a f*ck about people's opinions?

Is she beautiful?

Or is she just beautiful to him?

Through the eyes of a neurodivergent unnamed little boy, Kawakami explores these themes and also highlights the transience of life

Everything is fleeting

Everyone will be gone one day

Sometimes when you least expect it

So instead of keeping one's feelings bottled up or waiting to spend time with someone, say what you have to say & give them your time while you still can

That seems to be the moral of this tiny novella

It also unearths the many ways parents love their children, breaking the stereotypes, while giving us a glimpse into the complexity & joy of being a single parent.

But the most beautiful relationship in the book for me was the one between the little boy and his grandmother. It reminded me how little time we have with our grandparents

Or with anyone we care about

Love is about being there

Even if they can barely speak, barely hear, or even no longer recognize you, your presence is what matters. 

And finally, swaddled in all the sweetness was the boy's magical dream full of double entendres. A hidden sexually laden excerpt in an otherwise innocent book

Perhaps it was intentional, a hint at a young boy's fantasies
Or maybe it was written such so that younger readers can still read this book at the surface level, while others can glean more

This was my first #MiekoKawakami book, but definitely not the last 
Hope to read Breast And Eggs & Heaven soon

---

Content Warnings

Minor: Body shaming, Death, and Death of parent

Earthlings by Sayaka Murata

challenging dark reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes

What happens if a rat refuses to run?

We are all

Always running

Losing the race

We are meant to lose

But do we need to run?

What is the price of non-conformity in a world which rewards conformity and punishes individuality?

Where being honest to yourself is considered alien

Living your truth is unacceptable

Not fitting in invites backlash

And being different needs to be ‘cured’

This story probes into this question

Unmasks the ugly truth we are brainwashed to forget -

We are just tiny cogs in a big machine

Components of ‘The Factory’

We are baby makers on a loop

Slaves raising future slaves

Using love as a drug to keep procreating

Keep feeding the Giant

Help a few feast of most others

Anyone has seen that terrible movie with Eddie Redmayne (though he is still amazing in it), Channing Tatum and that small woman (Jackie from That 70s Show) whose name I always forget? The one where planets belong to different scions of some intergalactic royal family. A lot of the movie was shit, but the premise was interesting - people on all these planets incl earth only existed to become fodder for the youth & obnoxious lifestyles of these few

Essentially Capitalism 101

#Earthlings hits the nail on the head in a

weird

horrifying

bizarre

uncomfortable

&

extreme manner

But the message remains the same - 

we have no freedom

Or what we think is freedom is just an illusion

#SayakaMurata also claws out the depths of depravity that humans can sink to.

And the hypocrisy of society in sweeping away from sight (and therefore making acceptable) what is truly depraved vs what social constructs consider unacceptable

Who is brainwashing whom?

Who is delusional in this world?

Who holds the cards?

How do you evade the powers that be?

Can you break the loop?

Can you run away?

Can you refuse to participate?

And what happens to those who do?

What lies on the other side?

There are some answers here

But like all experiments the parameters define the results

So what you find may just be a tweaked or half the truth

Maybe there are no perfect answers

What we find is not what we seek

Her name is Mila Kunis, just remembered it. And the movie is Jupiter Ascending, Googled that

---

Content Warnings

Graphic: Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Incest, Rape, Sexual assault, and Cannibalism

Moderate: Homophobia, Misogyny, Sexism, Blood, and Murder

At Night All Blood Is Black by David Diop

challenging dark reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

‘This story, like all interesting stories, is full of clever innuendo. Whoever tells a well-known story like the one about the lion-sorcerer and the fickle princess might always be hiding another story beneath it. To be seen, the story hidden beneath the well-known story has to peek out a little bit. If the hidden story hides too well beneath the well known story, it stays invisible…When it’s understood by those for whom it is intended, the story hidden beneath the well known story can change the course of their lives, can push them to transform a diffuse desire into a concrete act

Of stories

And meaning

And secrets

Hidden in plain sight

Aren’t those the best deceptions?

The best works of art

The best stories

The face beneath the face

The eyes beneath the eyes

The words beneath the words

Diop is commenting about the nature of story-telling

We all draw from

life

memory

research

our pasts

from things better left unsaid

But writers cloak them in words

So that there is a story on the surface most see

A deeper commentary that many glean between the lines

And then there’s a tale that only few know was told

A story for all

Yet a story for one

Through this blood & gore soaked saga of a soldier unravelling & sinking into the method of madness, Diop untangles the many fissures of war

How it destroy’s people’s sanity

How racism classism & xenophobia are deeply entrenched even in the trenches

& shape events

How there are no winners in a war

Everybody loses some part of themselves

How victory is just an empty shell

crunched on the battlefield

beneath the heavy boots of time

But this is also one man’s story

How he loses his mind

His humanity

Himself

But was it just war that pushed him to those depths of depravity?

Or had loss eaten away his soul long before?

Was war just the last straw?

Was his incapability to be temporarily mad like the others who threw themselves in the line of fire & clear commitment to hunt more apt?

Was his violence towards women a product of war?

Or was it rooted much deeper in how he viewed women & himself?

Was he the lion?

The hunter?

Or just a phantom of the man with the pen

‘The hidden story has to be there without being there, it has to let itself be guessed at, the way a tight saffron-yellow dress lets the beautiful figure of a young girl be guessed at. It has to be transparent.’

The blatant objectification of women in this part that I left out from the initial quote & many such passages say something not just about Alfa or Madema, but Diop

How he views women - objects that are either consumed or plundered

How men write women - the fickle princess or the mute mademoiselle

And how it severs them from becoming truly human

Much like the severed trophies that the protagonist collects

Or was that another hidden message Diop had tucked in all along?

Translated wonderfully from the French by Anna Moschovakis

---

Content Warnings

Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Misogyny, Racism, Rape, Sexism, Violence, Xenophobia, and War

Moderate: Blood and Colonisation

Minor: Abandonment

Human Acts by Han Kang

challenging dark emotional reflective sad medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes

‘Conscience, the most terrifying thing in the world’

Conscience creeps in

sometimes unexpectedly

It comes calling out of the blue

Forces itself like a squatter

in a corner of your heart

Refusing to budge

Asking you to speak up

Stand with the truth

Do what’s right

Do what’s needed

Not because you are

Braver

Or Better

Or Kinder

But simply because it’s the right thing to do

As Atticus Finch said about courage

‘It's when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway‘

Try

Fight back

Raise your voice

Refuse to be victims

Refuse to lie down quietly & be mowed over

Dignity

the most basic human right

Yet the one most trampled upon everywhere

Why do people in power think it’s ok to grind some people to the ground

tire them to their bones

work them to death?

Greed

Capitalism

Imperialism

Snatching the bread out of hungry mouths so they can build their mountain of gold

Or bitcoins

Drain the energy out of the world

Drag humanity to the precipice

And push it over the edge

Falling

Forever

So a few can fly

Around the world

Or to outer space

Kang sheds a light on this through a set of people broken by the Gwangju uprising in S Korea

Interconnected like nerves

Throbbing with the same corrupted life

Dying with the same trauma

Or sometimes becoming worse than dead

Surviving can be a curse

As a character in the book says

to die instantly is a blessing

To live & be

Isolated

Humiliated

Tortured

Have your humanity stripped away

Or to live with the ghosts of grief pain & trauma

is far more excruciating

Then memory becomes a landmine

One wrong step can blow up your heart

Your life

Then survival is an act of endurance

Dripping down like helpless rain drops

Into the puddle of life

Muddy

Murky

Morbid

Or a mirage?

Sadness

leached out of their bones & seeped into the pages

Into my fingers

Staining my mind

Yet this book has an ephemeral beauty

A weave of words so fine

That the poetry of death floats in our hands

Then hits us with the unwavering truth

Sticky like tar

Heavy like lead

But is it just that?

An ode

to the slain

the mutilated

the brutalised

the living echoes of the dead

An unsung song of hardship

Or is it more?

Was there hope?

For those who choose to remember?

For those who can’t look away?

Do the dead walk in the dark?

Chained to earth

‘Why are we walking in the dark, let’s go over there, where the flowers are blooming.’

Are there flowers blooming?

Will they ever?

‘I read in an interview with someone who had been tortured; they described the after-effects as ‘similar to those experienced by victims of radioactive poisoning.’ Radioactive matter lingers for decades in muscle and bone, causing chromosomes to mutate. Cells turn cancerous, life attacks itself. Even if the victim dies, even if their body is cremated, leaving nothing but the charred remains of bone, that substance cannot be obliterated.’

Flickering amidst the shadows of history

these blackened souls leave their imprints on time

This book reminds us to not desecrate their memory

Remember

Never Again

Discovering Han Kang’s writing last year was the most serendipitous find. She is my favourite South Korean writer.

Loved The White Book and The Vegetarian, but this book makes me respect her even more.

Not only her range in writing is expansive and amazing, she has treaded this broken terrain of history beautifully, dredging out the past from little known depths and laid bare the truth with clarity and empathy. We are horrified but also see the humanity of these people

Recognise

Their erased value

Their dignity

.

Also a wonderful translation by Deborah Smith

---

Content Warnings

Graphic: Body horror, Death, Physical abuse, Rape, Sexual assault, Sexual violence, Torture, and Violence

Moderate: Misogyny, Blood, and Classism

How to Stay Sane in an Age of Division by Elif Shafak

hopeful informative inspiring reflective fast-paced

How To Stay Sane In An Age Of Division

The question that’s been plaguing us all

Does she have the answer?

Almost

A tiny book

That packs in quite a bit

But simply

Unhurriedly

Calmly

Like a winding chat with your friend over a steaming cup of tea on a rain drenched summer eve

The Kalboishakhi maybe grumbling around the corner

But so are many world issues

poverty

debt

homelessness

unemployment

racism

casteism

capitalism

patriarchy

gender bias

threatened sexualities

lack of access to education

Shrinking bodily autonomy for women

the c drama

other future viruses & epidemics

crumbling or non-existent healthcare infrastructure

the rise of right wing propaganda

climate change

denial of climate change

a shrinking future for the next generation

And so much more…

Barking at the door

Banging loudly

A steady gnawing you try to ignore

Is that a hound or just a puppy?

Who knows

Mostly you keep it at arm’s length

Taking in deep breaths

Trying to make it through another night

Find strength to open your eyes to another bleary exhausting day

But there are those days when the noise gets too much

The world thunders it’s way in

Bashing its brains against the door

Threatening to break it down

So you finally open the door a crack

And face it

See its struggle

Feel its pain

Know its broken pieces

Hold its hand

Help it glue them together

Not perfectly

But resiliently

It will never be the same again

But you try anyways

To make something new

Of an old beaten beast

Will it survive?

Will it thrive?

Or will it just whimper away & die?

The future is an uncertain terrain that solidifies as we tread on it

So we must choose our next steps carefully

Shed the apathy

Feel the hurt, pain, fear, angst

Accept we are not ok

Understand what needs to be changed

Funnel the information to acquire knowledge

Seek wisdom

And then wield our anger

Our dashed hopes

Our tired bones

To build a new dream

A new world

A new life

And perhaps read this tiny gem while we do that