Noorilhuda's Blog, page 3
December 13, 2014
Patricia Hamill reviews 'The Governess'
A Book That Takes Its Time
December 13, 2014
4-stars
The Governess tells the story of a young woman cast aside by her husband and forsaken by all who know her. It opens on the morning of a hard-won interview. Jane is haunted by a voice in her head that tries to undermine what little self-respect and confidence she still has. Despite her reputation and her inner struggles, she is hired and assumes the role of governess for a well-to-do, but broken family.
Let me start off by saying I really enjoyed this story. The people and their histories are thoroughly explored, but not all at once. Everything is revealed slowly, just enough to draw you further into the story. At first I was worried I'd lose interest, because it seems to take an incredibly long time for anything to happen. But, instead, I found myself more and more engrossed as the story progressed, leading to some very late nights the last few times I picked up the book.
The story is complex and weaves several subplots into the main one that follows Jane on her road to redemption and self actualization. The mystery surrounding Jane's scandal, the vindictiveness of her husband and those he's turned against her, the aging Aunt, the Master of the house and his undying, self destructive love for his deceased wife, the relationship between him and his mistress, and the hints of connection between the Master and Jane. This isn't a romance novel. It's an exploration of some very real, very difficult social situations. It's a lot to take on in a single story, but I think it is done very well.
On the downside, I must admit this story can be a bit convoluted and slow. The first chapter, for example, is long and full of Jane's recent history and struggles, yet in the live story, she only manages to dress herself. What I'm saying is don't go into the story expecting action and adventure. This is a story designed to be thought about, internalized and talked about. It doesn't go anywhere fast. The shifting perspectives can also be a bit confusing, at times reflecting memories and at others reflecting experiences and thoughts of people who are no longer alive during the time in which the story takes place.
Overall, I found this to be a wonderful story, though covering some difficult issues. I would recommend this mostly to those who prefer historical fiction, and in particular to those who might read this for a book club or buddy read. When I finished, I wanted to discuss it, but since I didn't know anyone else who had read it, I really didn't have any outlet. I want to talk about what I thought about the ending, but doing so would spoil it. So, I will hold my tongue and recommend this for others.
I received a copy of this book from the author in return for a review.
--------------------------
Review posted on Amazon.com
Direct links to the review: http://www.amazon.com/review/R31OPA67...
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog...
http://patriciahamill.blogspot.com/20...
December 13, 2014
4-stars
The Governess tells the story of a young woman cast aside by her husband and forsaken by all who know her. It opens on the morning of a hard-won interview. Jane is haunted by a voice in her head that tries to undermine what little self-respect and confidence she still has. Despite her reputation and her inner struggles, she is hired and assumes the role of governess for a well-to-do, but broken family.
Let me start off by saying I really enjoyed this story. The people and their histories are thoroughly explored, but not all at once. Everything is revealed slowly, just enough to draw you further into the story. At first I was worried I'd lose interest, because it seems to take an incredibly long time for anything to happen. But, instead, I found myself more and more engrossed as the story progressed, leading to some very late nights the last few times I picked up the book.
The story is complex and weaves several subplots into the main one that follows Jane on her road to redemption and self actualization. The mystery surrounding Jane's scandal, the vindictiveness of her husband and those he's turned against her, the aging Aunt, the Master of the house and his undying, self destructive love for his deceased wife, the relationship between him and his mistress, and the hints of connection between the Master and Jane. This isn't a romance novel. It's an exploration of some very real, very difficult social situations. It's a lot to take on in a single story, but I think it is done very well.
On the downside, I must admit this story can be a bit convoluted and slow. The first chapter, for example, is long and full of Jane's recent history and struggles, yet in the live story, she only manages to dress herself. What I'm saying is don't go into the story expecting action and adventure. This is a story designed to be thought about, internalized and talked about. It doesn't go anywhere fast. The shifting perspectives can also be a bit confusing, at times reflecting memories and at others reflecting experiences and thoughts of people who are no longer alive during the time in which the story takes place.
Overall, I found this to be a wonderful story, though covering some difficult issues. I would recommend this mostly to those who prefer historical fiction, and in particular to those who might read this for a book club or buddy read. When I finished, I wanted to discuss it, but since I didn't know anyone else who had read it, I really didn't have any outlet. I want to talk about what I thought about the ending, but doing so would spoil it. So, I will hold my tongue and recommend this for others.
I received a copy of this book from the author in return for a review.
--------------------------
Review posted on Amazon.com
Direct links to the review: http://www.amazon.com/review/R31OPA67...
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog...
http://patriciahamill.blogspot.com/20...
November 28, 2014
SAYING YES TO PEDOPHILIA
Apparently it has been going on forever. The cloak of absolute silence, unquestioning support and aggressive defense of criminal sexual behavior with underage persons, children infact, is everywhere.
Whether it is the priest who covers for a dean of the Church of England, a TV organization turning a blind eye to persistent rumors about a celebrity DJ, oblivious headmasters of a £25,953 per term boys’ preparatory boarding school where teachers joined 7-13 year old students during baths, the former U.S. President and leading philanthropist whose best friend, a billionaire, had a taste for underage teenage girls allegedly kept as sex slaves, and talented actors’ unapologetic stance for the disturbing predilections of two legendary film directors - the bottom line is the same in each case: the good outweighs the bad: hence the sexual preference (or even the need) of Very Reverend Robert Waddington of Bradford, Dean of Manchester, is inconsequential in his larger service to spreading the word of God, raising the congregation and funds for the cathedral.
'He was a good man with a very bad habit.'
Sir Jimmy Savile died a happy satisfied rich old famous man of 84, never brought to justice for abusing hundreds of kids in all the years he toured UK and hosted BBC shows, and raised £40 million for charities. He was important to the pop culture evolution of the country. What he did in his personal life was nobody’s business - least of all BBC’s or the people he worked with - that is until 2012 when the s*** hit the fan.
'He was a knight with a very bad habit.'
The first duty of Summer Fields administration is toward protecting the school’s reputation, damage control and showing remorse for negligence - the fact that it failed to have a proper monitoring system for the guardians - the teachers themselves - to make sure any impropriety does not occur goes unsaid or is lost in translation.
Bill Clinton only ‘severed’ ties with Jeffrey Epstein when his exploits became public knowledge and became a liability for the personal celebrity, goodwill and undying political hope Clinton garners from all over the world.
Roman Polanski used holocaust and Woody Allen used his neurosis to garner sympathy and get away with sexual abuse of minors. And they did it with an arrogance and self-serving persecution complex that lesser talents found endearing: ‘all genius has a few cracks, let bygones be bygones: the rape victim has said as much, and Allen even married the underage teenager he was taking nude photos of! Everything is fine now’.
All this happened under the noses of people who ought to have known and acted better, but didn’t. And it happened in a know-it-all society rife with enlightenment philosophies, self-help gurus, survivor groups and cautionary tales.
All of this is literally a world away from Pakistan, where sexual knowledge of any sort is considered taboo and denial is the tool to tackle all unpleasant problems with - unless the perpetrator is caught on tape dumping a girl near a hospital! In September 2013, five-year old Sumbul was left unconscious, with bloodied clothes, near the green-belt of Sir Ganga Ram Hospital, one of the oldest and most prestigious ones in Lahore, Pakistan’s 2nd largest city. The doctors confirmed she had been raped ‘repeatedly‘ for more than an hour and by more than one person and ‘from both sides’. Her 3 year old cousin, a boy, who was also kidnapped, was dropped at Services Hospital. Both had been playing outside their residence in a small colony when they went missing.
http://www.dawn.com/news/1042790
http://www.dawn.com/news/1123863
A CCTV footage made the facial recognition of the man possible. Months of 24-hour media coverage yielded no result. 400 suspects were interviewed. All set free. The case went cold. The complicity of the community and friends (and inability of NADRA to ID him) made it impossible to trace this man. The brawny moustached fellow from the video still roams somewhere in Lahore.
Apart from the forced and illegal sex with minor girls, recently director Muhammad Al Naqvi explored the accepted (though unacknowledged) practice of sex with boys in the documentary ‘Pakistan’s Hidden Shame‘ that aired on Channel 4 (UK):
http://www.channel4.com/programmes/pa...
It tells the story of boys, some as young as eight, who are used and exploited by bus/ truck drivers (on lengthy rides across cities) in the frontier province called ‘Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa’, which borders Afghanistan. The culture that throws unattended vulnerable boys in the company of powerful men without impunity or accountability is apparently not just a Western phenomenon. And in Pakistan it is certainly not limited to KPK province either, though the first time I heard of the problem over there was as a newbie Associate Producer for a channel’s flagship current affairs show: In September 2003, several students of an all boys school (KPK was then called NWFP) complained to their parents about abuse at the hands of teachers. A huge scandal ensued. It didn’t go anywhere.
Getting rid of accused teachers is difficult, they get summary suspension - mostly with pay - and prosecution is hindered by unwilling families who refuse to go through the lengthy nightmarish and tedious judicial process that defames them. The venues open for boys to go and talk about their problems and move on is also limited.
In some cultures, it is not even considered abuse - it is a source of pride and honor to have a young vibrant good-looking boy by your side for example as you head a meeting of notables in Mardan and Charsadda (KPK cities), a Pashtun practice called ‘Bacha Bazi’. It is considered a sign of older man’s virility and attractiveness.
It may not even be considered an infraction or sexual relationship at all, since in some cultures it is not a ‘natural’ way of intercourse:
http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/898...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-1...
The West is familiar with the Michael Jackson phenomena.
Every culture has it’s own names for accepted and unaccepted homosexual behavior. Some quote the incestuous Romans, some the law of nature and others the pre-Islamic Arab tradition that unfortunately is still followed.
But these are all technicalities. The real issue is the idea that it is okay to have ‘harmless fun’, ‘explore anatomy’ and ‘show the ropes’ to young / underage girls and boys - and if you are important enough, powerful enough, fulfill another duty perfectly, someone will ‘have your back’ and support you implicitly, blindly, faithfully.
Literature is partly to blame for this phenomena of acceptance of perverted behavior: Lolita is a work of pedophiliac fantasy, Anais Nin’s conversations with her father show crass incestuous behavior and Nabokov’s Van and Ada were both mentally ill people - the libertine sentimentality with which the work is accepted makes it easier to find excuses for actions of other brilliant men of authority.
I have been meaning to write this post ever since the news of Stephen Collins’ inappropriate behavior with children first broke. Pakistan’s state-owned television PTV used to show many iconic and famous U.S., UK and Australian television series and films in the 80s and 90s, and ‘Tales of the Golden Monkey’ was one of them. I was in grade 2 or 3 perhaps. Collins was the first crush I ever had. He remained this charming handsome dimpled romantic hero in the decades that followed courtesy TV adaptations of Danielle Steele, Barbara Taylor Bradford, true story of Betty Broderick, the long-running 7th Heaven, and the film The First Wives Club.
A few years ago, I was thrilled to meet him as he came out of the backstage door after performing in the Mel Brooks broadway musical in which he played the bamboozled King Arthur. I got my picture taken with him and he said my English was so good. And that was that.
And then the ugly business of ‘revelations’. Ofcourse there is more than one reason to believe that the story was planted specifically by an angry scorned soon-to-be-ex-wife who was blindsided by the divorce proceedings and unfair terms of financial agreements thereof. Irrespective of the exact nature of the circumstances that brought the disturbing audio to light (and illegality of it all), it is a fact that Collins led a child to touch his genitals and exposed himself to another - and in some cases allegedly even before Tales ever aired! I am sure parents have changed clothes infront of their young ones every once in a while, without it holding any special meaning unless thought of retrospectively by the child as an adult. There is nothing sexual about changing pants or a blouse unless it’s an advert running on TV and we all know how those things go! But to initiate any act of undress infront of another family’s child and that too with the perverted interest in seeing the expression on the child’s face or giving them a ‘feel’ crosses a line.
It’s the same line an Allen crosses when he thinks it’s okay to take pictures of his girlfriend’s daughter, or a Weiss crosses when he initiates sex with a willing underage sexual partner who wants to be given a role in TV or film, or a ticket master who brushes his hand against the breast of a 12-year old ‘accidentally’. It’s the line of appropriate and inappropriate behavior and your celebrity or power should not make it okay to get away with it. I feel there is a double standard - a convicted rapist got rewarded with an Oscar and the #11 greatest TV dad is being laid off work for being a pervert. Pakistani mothers have to be quiet of the daughters abuse if they want to see them married off; And Pakistani mullahs quick to rally against American / Indian conspiracies will never be seen on the street condemning the malpractice of authority by their own kind. Wrong is wrong. There cannot be layers of wrong, or grey areas of wrong, or justifications of wrong - those are for the psychologists and jurists to opine over - but as a society, people and parents, we ought to know and act better.
By giving these people work, any sort of recognition for that work, or hiding their ‘foibles’ for the greater good is wrong.
The world would be a much better place if we recognized the achievements of a person while underscoring his sickness as well, instead of making excuses for him or rejecting the accusations altogether, or brushing them under a carpet over a legality, sentiment or connection. That way, there would be less sex offenders and molesters, because most of them would be in jail - where they belong.
Whether it is the priest who covers for a dean of the Church of England, a TV organization turning a blind eye to persistent rumors about a celebrity DJ, oblivious headmasters of a £25,953 per term boys’ preparatory boarding school where teachers joined 7-13 year old students during baths, the former U.S. President and leading philanthropist whose best friend, a billionaire, had a taste for underage teenage girls allegedly kept as sex slaves, and talented actors’ unapologetic stance for the disturbing predilections of two legendary film directors - the bottom line is the same in each case: the good outweighs the bad: hence the sexual preference (or even the need) of Very Reverend Robert Waddington of Bradford, Dean of Manchester, is inconsequential in his larger service to spreading the word of God, raising the congregation and funds for the cathedral.
'He was a good man with a very bad habit.'
Sir Jimmy Savile died a happy satisfied rich old famous man of 84, never brought to justice for abusing hundreds of kids in all the years he toured UK and hosted BBC shows, and raised £40 million for charities. He was important to the pop culture evolution of the country. What he did in his personal life was nobody’s business - least of all BBC’s or the people he worked with - that is until 2012 when the s*** hit the fan.
'He was a knight with a very bad habit.'
The first duty of Summer Fields administration is toward protecting the school’s reputation, damage control and showing remorse for negligence - the fact that it failed to have a proper monitoring system for the guardians - the teachers themselves - to make sure any impropriety does not occur goes unsaid or is lost in translation.
Bill Clinton only ‘severed’ ties with Jeffrey Epstein when his exploits became public knowledge and became a liability for the personal celebrity, goodwill and undying political hope Clinton garners from all over the world.
Roman Polanski used holocaust and Woody Allen used his neurosis to garner sympathy and get away with sexual abuse of minors. And they did it with an arrogance and self-serving persecution complex that lesser talents found endearing: ‘all genius has a few cracks, let bygones be bygones: the rape victim has said as much, and Allen even married the underage teenager he was taking nude photos of! Everything is fine now’.
All this happened under the noses of people who ought to have known and acted better, but didn’t. And it happened in a know-it-all society rife with enlightenment philosophies, self-help gurus, survivor groups and cautionary tales.
All of this is literally a world away from Pakistan, where sexual knowledge of any sort is considered taboo and denial is the tool to tackle all unpleasant problems with - unless the perpetrator is caught on tape dumping a girl near a hospital! In September 2013, five-year old Sumbul was left unconscious, with bloodied clothes, near the green-belt of Sir Ganga Ram Hospital, one of the oldest and most prestigious ones in Lahore, Pakistan’s 2nd largest city. The doctors confirmed she had been raped ‘repeatedly‘ for more than an hour and by more than one person and ‘from both sides’. Her 3 year old cousin, a boy, who was also kidnapped, was dropped at Services Hospital. Both had been playing outside their residence in a small colony when they went missing.
http://www.dawn.com/news/1042790
http://www.dawn.com/news/1123863
A CCTV footage made the facial recognition of the man possible. Months of 24-hour media coverage yielded no result. 400 suspects were interviewed. All set free. The case went cold. The complicity of the community and friends (and inability of NADRA to ID him) made it impossible to trace this man. The brawny moustached fellow from the video still roams somewhere in Lahore.
Apart from the forced and illegal sex with minor girls, recently director Muhammad Al Naqvi explored the accepted (though unacknowledged) practice of sex with boys in the documentary ‘Pakistan’s Hidden Shame‘ that aired on Channel 4 (UK):
http://www.channel4.com/programmes/pa...
It tells the story of boys, some as young as eight, who are used and exploited by bus/ truck drivers (on lengthy rides across cities) in the frontier province called ‘Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa’, which borders Afghanistan. The culture that throws unattended vulnerable boys in the company of powerful men without impunity or accountability is apparently not just a Western phenomenon. And in Pakistan it is certainly not limited to KPK province either, though the first time I heard of the problem over there was as a newbie Associate Producer for a channel’s flagship current affairs show: In September 2003, several students of an all boys school (KPK was then called NWFP) complained to their parents about abuse at the hands of teachers. A huge scandal ensued. It didn’t go anywhere.
Getting rid of accused teachers is difficult, they get summary suspension - mostly with pay - and prosecution is hindered by unwilling families who refuse to go through the lengthy nightmarish and tedious judicial process that defames them. The venues open for boys to go and talk about their problems and move on is also limited.
In some cultures, it is not even considered abuse - it is a source of pride and honor to have a young vibrant good-looking boy by your side for example as you head a meeting of notables in Mardan and Charsadda (KPK cities), a Pashtun practice called ‘Bacha Bazi’. It is considered a sign of older man’s virility and attractiveness.
It may not even be considered an infraction or sexual relationship at all, since in some cultures it is not a ‘natural’ way of intercourse:
http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/story/898...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-1...
The West is familiar with the Michael Jackson phenomena.
Every culture has it’s own names for accepted and unaccepted homosexual behavior. Some quote the incestuous Romans, some the law of nature and others the pre-Islamic Arab tradition that unfortunately is still followed.
But these are all technicalities. The real issue is the idea that it is okay to have ‘harmless fun’, ‘explore anatomy’ and ‘show the ropes’ to young / underage girls and boys - and if you are important enough, powerful enough, fulfill another duty perfectly, someone will ‘have your back’ and support you implicitly, blindly, faithfully.
Literature is partly to blame for this phenomena of acceptance of perverted behavior: Lolita is a work of pedophiliac fantasy, Anais Nin’s conversations with her father show crass incestuous behavior and Nabokov’s Van and Ada were both mentally ill people - the libertine sentimentality with which the work is accepted makes it easier to find excuses for actions of other brilliant men of authority.
I have been meaning to write this post ever since the news of Stephen Collins’ inappropriate behavior with children first broke. Pakistan’s state-owned television PTV used to show many iconic and famous U.S., UK and Australian television series and films in the 80s and 90s, and ‘Tales of the Golden Monkey’ was one of them. I was in grade 2 or 3 perhaps. Collins was the first crush I ever had. He remained this charming handsome dimpled romantic hero in the decades that followed courtesy TV adaptations of Danielle Steele, Barbara Taylor Bradford, true story of Betty Broderick, the long-running 7th Heaven, and the film The First Wives Club.
A few years ago, I was thrilled to meet him as he came out of the backstage door after performing in the Mel Brooks broadway musical in which he played the bamboozled King Arthur. I got my picture taken with him and he said my English was so good. And that was that.
And then the ugly business of ‘revelations’. Ofcourse there is more than one reason to believe that the story was planted specifically by an angry scorned soon-to-be-ex-wife who was blindsided by the divorce proceedings and unfair terms of financial agreements thereof. Irrespective of the exact nature of the circumstances that brought the disturbing audio to light (and illegality of it all), it is a fact that Collins led a child to touch his genitals and exposed himself to another - and in some cases allegedly even before Tales ever aired! I am sure parents have changed clothes infront of their young ones every once in a while, without it holding any special meaning unless thought of retrospectively by the child as an adult. There is nothing sexual about changing pants or a blouse unless it’s an advert running on TV and we all know how those things go! But to initiate any act of undress infront of another family’s child and that too with the perverted interest in seeing the expression on the child’s face or giving them a ‘feel’ crosses a line.
It’s the same line an Allen crosses when he thinks it’s okay to take pictures of his girlfriend’s daughter, or a Weiss crosses when he initiates sex with a willing underage sexual partner who wants to be given a role in TV or film, or a ticket master who brushes his hand against the breast of a 12-year old ‘accidentally’. It’s the line of appropriate and inappropriate behavior and your celebrity or power should not make it okay to get away with it. I feel there is a double standard - a convicted rapist got rewarded with an Oscar and the #11 greatest TV dad is being laid off work for being a pervert. Pakistani mothers have to be quiet of the daughters abuse if they want to see them married off; And Pakistani mullahs quick to rally against American / Indian conspiracies will never be seen on the street condemning the malpractice of authority by their own kind. Wrong is wrong. There cannot be layers of wrong, or grey areas of wrong, or justifications of wrong - those are for the psychologists and jurists to opine over - but as a society, people and parents, we ought to know and act better.
By giving these people work, any sort of recognition for that work, or hiding their ‘foibles’ for the greater good is wrong.
The world would be a much better place if we recognized the achievements of a person while underscoring his sickness as well, instead of making excuses for him or rejecting the accusations altogether, or brushing them under a carpet over a legality, sentiment or connection. That way, there would be less sex offenders and molesters, because most of them would be in jail - where they belong.
October 28, 2014
David Burnett reviews 'The Governess'
One Cannot Turn Back the Clock
October 27, 2014
5-stars
I want to be able to say “I read this book in one sitting.” I can’t truthfully say that because I read slowly and the book is long, three hundred seventeen pages on my Fire. I can say, though, that the author pulled me into the story and kept me so interested that I only put the book down because it was time for dinner or time for bed or because I had been reading so long that I was tired! I did not WANT to put it down!
The plot is rather straightforward. The story is set in nineteenth century England. Jane Adams has been accused of adultery, divorced by her husband, and disinherited by her father. With no money and no one willing to take her in, she is reduced to seeking employment as a governess. Lady Cavendish employs her in spite of her background, and her nephew, John Lockwood, the father of the children, continues to employ her in spite of letters from her former husband and his friends.
As the book progresses, it becomes obvious that things might not be as they seem. Jane does not behave like the woman described in the letters. John becomes suspicious of the husband’s motives. Divorce her, all right, he thinks, but why does he care if I employ her? Why try to ruin her life? Once she accumulates the funds, Jane goes to court to clear her reputation and to reclaim what is hers.
Both Nora and John want the return of what they have lost. Jane wants her old life back: her father, her work, her house. John wants the wife he had loved since they both were twelve years old. The world is such, though, that one cannot turn back a clock and retrieve the past.
One finds very little direct dialogue in the book. The story is told primarily through Jane’s thoughts, and the text reads as if the characters are thinking. People do not think in neat, simple, perfectly formed sentences, and the readers often finds long, sometimes rambling thoughts, with phrases strung together one after another. The effect is striking, and I found myself pulled along by the text.
The characters are strongly drawn. I felt as if I knew Jane and John, Nora, John’s mistress, and Mr. Pritchard, Jane’s former husband.
I loved Jane, and I wanted her to be happy. The author provided more than one means by which she might find happiness, and I wanted to know which, if any, she would experience. The conclusion is not obvious until the final pages.
I felt sorry for John, I was irritated by Nora, and I despised Mr. Pritchard.
This book is not a short, easy read, but it is well-worth your time. You will find the story to be captivating, in spite of its simplicity. You will cry with the characters, learn about human nature, and speculate on the meaning of life.
This is an excellent book!
David Burnett for the Kindle Book Review
I received a copy of the book in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
-----------------------------
Review posted on Amazon.com
Direct Link to the review:
http://davidburnettsbooks.blogspot.com/
http://www.amazon.com/review/R1IJR5CG...
Ebook link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MF8BJQE
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00MF8BJQE
-----------------------------
October 27, 2014
5-stars
I want to be able to say “I read this book in one sitting.” I can’t truthfully say that because I read slowly and the book is long, three hundred seventeen pages on my Fire. I can say, though, that the author pulled me into the story and kept me so interested that I only put the book down because it was time for dinner or time for bed or because I had been reading so long that I was tired! I did not WANT to put it down!
The plot is rather straightforward. The story is set in nineteenth century England. Jane Adams has been accused of adultery, divorced by her husband, and disinherited by her father. With no money and no one willing to take her in, she is reduced to seeking employment as a governess. Lady Cavendish employs her in spite of her background, and her nephew, John Lockwood, the father of the children, continues to employ her in spite of letters from her former husband and his friends.
As the book progresses, it becomes obvious that things might not be as they seem. Jane does not behave like the woman described in the letters. John becomes suspicious of the husband’s motives. Divorce her, all right, he thinks, but why does he care if I employ her? Why try to ruin her life? Once she accumulates the funds, Jane goes to court to clear her reputation and to reclaim what is hers.
Both Nora and John want the return of what they have lost. Jane wants her old life back: her father, her work, her house. John wants the wife he had loved since they both were twelve years old. The world is such, though, that one cannot turn back a clock and retrieve the past.
One finds very little direct dialogue in the book. The story is told primarily through Jane’s thoughts, and the text reads as if the characters are thinking. People do not think in neat, simple, perfectly formed sentences, and the readers often finds long, sometimes rambling thoughts, with phrases strung together one after another. The effect is striking, and I found myself pulled along by the text.
The characters are strongly drawn. I felt as if I knew Jane and John, Nora, John’s mistress, and Mr. Pritchard, Jane’s former husband.
I loved Jane, and I wanted her to be happy. The author provided more than one means by which she might find happiness, and I wanted to know which, if any, she would experience. The conclusion is not obvious until the final pages.
I felt sorry for John, I was irritated by Nora, and I despised Mr. Pritchard.
This book is not a short, easy read, but it is well-worth your time. You will find the story to be captivating, in spite of its simplicity. You will cry with the characters, learn about human nature, and speculate on the meaning of life.
This is an excellent book!
David Burnett for the Kindle Book Review
I received a copy of the book in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
-----------------------------
Review posted on Amazon.com
Direct Link to the review:
http://davidburnettsbooks.blogspot.com/
http://www.amazon.com/review/R1IJR5CG...
Ebook link: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MF8BJQE
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00MF8BJQE
-----------------------------
October 20, 2014
Reminding Women Writers Everywhere: This is Your Time, Woman!
'Will #readwomen2014 change our sexist reading habits?' Thus began Joanna Walsh's post on 20th January 2014 in The Women's Blog of The Guardian newspaper. It dealt with the sexist way in which the work of female writers is perceived and categorized and the inequality in purchase of books written by men as opposed to women.
Following is the text of Walsh's well-thought-out original post carried by Guardian:
It's a truth universally acknowledged that, although women read more than men, and books by female authors are published in roughly the same numbers, they are more easily overlooked. Their marginalisation by top literary journals, both as reviewers and the reviewed, is confirmed in a yearly count by the organisation Vida: Women in Literary Arts.
Perhaps the problem lies not with whether women are published, but how. Lionel Shriver complained when her "nasty book" Game Control was given a "girly cover", and I've listened to female writer friends grouse when their books are given flowery covers though their writing is not; when reviews, or even their publishers' press releases, describe their work as "delicate" when it is forthright, "delightful" when it is satirical, "carving a niche" when it is staking a claim. Had Peter Stothard, the editor of the Times Literary Supplement, considered that when he responded to the first Vida count in 2011 by saying: "We know [women] are heavy readers of the kind of fiction that is not likely to be reviewed in the pages of the TLS"?
"My own feeling," said Claire Armitstead, the Guardian's literary editor, "is that there is an issue of confidence among women writers." Yet the female authors I know are bold and ambitious; I'm not sure the issue lies with them. In 2011, Stothard said: "We take [equality] pretty seriously." Everyone wants change, but is reluctant to make a change. As readers, perhaps we should take a little responsibility: after all, the buck stops with the book buyer.
I started the Twitter hashtag #readwomen2014 after drawing some bookmark-shaped New Year's cards showing some of my favourite female writers. I had been inspired by two literary journalists – both male, as it happens – who didn't want to show up on the wrong side of this year's Vida pie chart (coming out next month) and were willing to do something about it. Jonathan Gibbs in the UK and Matthew Jakubowski in the US both made a commitment to read only female authors for a set period. When I posted photos of my cards on Twitter, a few people asked me to tweet the 250-odd names of female writers I had typed on the back.
I worried that tweeting the names might seem polemical, even boring. After Caroline Criado-Perez's experience of cyber bullying during her campaign to have Jane Austen appear on the £10 note, I was also a little nervous. But, within minutes, women – and men – were adding their own favourites to the list. The meme was passed on until the list of names doubled, then trebled. This was something people cared about. It also felt as if they were having a lot of fun.
It has been exciting to see some of the ways the hashtag has been used: as a personal incentive; a rallying cry; a celebration of recent achievements (2013 prizes for Alice Munro, Lydia Davis, Eleanor Catton and more) and of authors who should be better known. It has been used to discuss women's writing, and to link up "read women" projects around the world.
When I first wrote about it for Berfrois magazine, I had no inkling #readwomen2014 would become so successful, but revolutions start small. You don't have to exclusively read books by women this year (you may be surprised to learn that I won't be doing so), but you might like to do a Vida count on your own bookshelf; if you find an imbalance, consider whether you might have been a victim of inequality, missing out on good writing because of a pink dust jacket. Just for a change, make sure the next book you read is by a woman. While female writers may encounter similar obstacles, their work is diverse as men's: there is a book by a woman for every kind of reader.
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandsty...
Following is the text of Walsh's well-thought-out original post carried by Guardian:
It's a truth universally acknowledged that, although women read more than men, and books by female authors are published in roughly the same numbers, they are more easily overlooked. Their marginalisation by top literary journals, both as reviewers and the reviewed, is confirmed in a yearly count by the organisation Vida: Women in Literary Arts.
Perhaps the problem lies not with whether women are published, but how. Lionel Shriver complained when her "nasty book" Game Control was given a "girly cover", and I've listened to female writer friends grouse when their books are given flowery covers though their writing is not; when reviews, or even their publishers' press releases, describe their work as "delicate" when it is forthright, "delightful" when it is satirical, "carving a niche" when it is staking a claim. Had Peter Stothard, the editor of the Times Literary Supplement, considered that when he responded to the first Vida count in 2011 by saying: "We know [women] are heavy readers of the kind of fiction that is not likely to be reviewed in the pages of the TLS"?
"My own feeling," said Claire Armitstead, the Guardian's literary editor, "is that there is an issue of confidence among women writers." Yet the female authors I know are bold and ambitious; I'm not sure the issue lies with them. In 2011, Stothard said: "We take [equality] pretty seriously." Everyone wants change, but is reluctant to make a change. As readers, perhaps we should take a little responsibility: after all, the buck stops with the book buyer.
I started the Twitter hashtag #readwomen2014 after drawing some bookmark-shaped New Year's cards showing some of my favourite female writers. I had been inspired by two literary journalists – both male, as it happens – who didn't want to show up on the wrong side of this year's Vida pie chart (coming out next month) and were willing to do something about it. Jonathan Gibbs in the UK and Matthew Jakubowski in the US both made a commitment to read only female authors for a set period. When I posted photos of my cards on Twitter, a few people asked me to tweet the 250-odd names of female writers I had typed on the back.
I worried that tweeting the names might seem polemical, even boring. After Caroline Criado-Perez's experience of cyber bullying during her campaign to have Jane Austen appear on the £10 note, I was also a little nervous. But, within minutes, women – and men – were adding their own favourites to the list. The meme was passed on until the list of names doubled, then trebled. This was something people cared about. It also felt as if they were having a lot of fun.
It has been exciting to see some of the ways the hashtag has been used: as a personal incentive; a rallying cry; a celebration of recent achievements (2013 prizes for Alice Munro, Lydia Davis, Eleanor Catton and more) and of authors who should be better known. It has been used to discuss women's writing, and to link up "read women" projects around the world.
When I first wrote about it for Berfrois magazine, I had no inkling #readwomen2014 would become so successful, but revolutions start small. You don't have to exclusively read books by women this year (you may be surprised to learn that I won't be doing so), but you might like to do a Vida count on your own bookshelf; if you find an imbalance, consider whether you might have been a victim of inequality, missing out on good writing because of a pink dust jacket. Just for a change, make sure the next book you read is by a woman. While female writers may encounter similar obstacles, their work is diverse as men's: there is a book by a woman for every kind of reader.
http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandsty...
October 13, 2014
MALALA FINALLY WINS!
The youngest ever Nobel Peace Prize winner is from the sixth-most populous country in the world i.e. our very own Pakistan! In a world fast bracing it's self for youngest-ever self-made millionaires and start-up tycoons (and some guy called Zuckerberg), we have done our bit by adding a spirited girl who will be the voice of global social change and access to education for time to come. And with one of the largest youth ‘bulges’ in the world - 35% of pop. is aged 15 or under according to UNICEF and 47% of the 84 million registered voters are aged between 18-35 and we lag behind on every education/ employment paradigm - it will be the right incentive to all young people to aim higher amidst adversity, scorn, suspicion, a few attacks by pissed-off terrorists and colorful zingers by fellow countrymen & women.
It could not have come at a better time either. Yes, last year media created this false sense of euphoria for a win that never materialized and this year, they were all a bit unusually quiet once she had, but make no mistake, Malala has made more than history. She has given a sense of accomplishment to an undeserving country that is hell-bent on making news for bad stuff and embarrassing itself on international stage than for anything constructive. After a year of blanket coverage to Taliban-apologists, political supporters and downright beheading experts from the militias, a land made holy by shaming it’s women than sending them to school, and a people more comforted by the antagonizing words of angry bearded soothsayers than say, a female human rights lawyer by the name of Asma Jehangir, this girl stands proud and it makes me proud as hell to be a Pakistani because of it!
Success in any field is a tricky thing. It involves personal effort, choices and experiences that lead one to succeed in any given profession. That line, ‘some are born great, some achieve greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them’ is true. Mozart was cool from the get-go (composing at age 5!). Imran Khan perfected his game (practice, practice) and Mandela chose the road less traveled by. With Malala, there has been a convergence of factors beyond her control with what she was destined to be all along. She was a bright confident girl from the most backward areas in Pakistan and the hawkishly conservative tribal KPK, who got shot by Enemy of the West and survived an injury that technically should have killed her on the spot if not for heavy loss of blood. She went abroad and was given a platform by countries used to giving platforms to ‘newsworthy’ people for furthering global developmental goals. Her rise to fame (and money) is phenomenal but it is based on character and luck. And she has used that privilege for something good - universal education for all and rights of children. And she has her whole life ahead of her to accomplish the symbol she’s come to represent.
It was this symbol that got Obamas to see her instead of our elected PM on his first visit to U.S. last year! In a capitalistic world where women are objectified, branded and sold on skewed perceptions, where anyone can make easy money off anything (Kardashian sex tape millions, Cyrus on a ball, marrying a Royal or Feudal, Big Brother, committing blasphemy / controversy) and a western sub-culture that gratifies 'famous for being famous' this girl has stayed focussed and dreamt big. Right after the announcement she thanked her father for ‘not clipping my wings’. Well, she needn’t worry. Millions of Pakistanis not used to praise of any sort will gladly do it for her!
Awards are always controversial and subjective. They are a strange mix of uniqueness of work, popularity of an individual and the awarding authority’s need to feel good about it’s self. Oscars became redundant a long time ago but the glamorous sizzle is still there - our own Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy won for documentary film on acid-attack survivors, ‘Saving Face’ in 2013. Ayesha Omar cannot sing to save her life but that has not stopped her from winning a Lux Style Award for Best Female Singer and getting the Cola advert simply on the strength of the hit comedy series she’s a vital part of! Even NPP has been accused of playing favorites, politics or downright racism in choosing winners. Ofcourse Obama did not deserve it nine months into his Presidency and Kissinger certainly absolutely irrevocably did not. But then many recipients of Pride of Performance by GoP did not either.
Five of the last 12 Nobel Peace Prize winners are Muslim. The important thing to gloat over is that one of our own has been felicitated. And she is only 17 which gives Pakistanis plenty of time to grow up to the idea!
Her entire Amanpour interview:
http://edition.cnn.com/video/data/2.0...
And my cover story from 2012, right after the attack on this braveheart’s life :)
http://pique.pk/a-girl-versus-a-militia/
It could not have come at a better time either. Yes, last year media created this false sense of euphoria for a win that never materialized and this year, they were all a bit unusually quiet once she had, but make no mistake, Malala has made more than history. She has given a sense of accomplishment to an undeserving country that is hell-bent on making news for bad stuff and embarrassing itself on international stage than for anything constructive. After a year of blanket coverage to Taliban-apologists, political supporters and downright beheading experts from the militias, a land made holy by shaming it’s women than sending them to school, and a people more comforted by the antagonizing words of angry bearded soothsayers than say, a female human rights lawyer by the name of Asma Jehangir, this girl stands proud and it makes me proud as hell to be a Pakistani because of it!
Success in any field is a tricky thing. It involves personal effort, choices and experiences that lead one to succeed in any given profession. That line, ‘some are born great, some achieve greatness and others have greatness thrust upon them’ is true. Mozart was cool from the get-go (composing at age 5!). Imran Khan perfected his game (practice, practice) and Mandela chose the road less traveled by. With Malala, there has been a convergence of factors beyond her control with what she was destined to be all along. She was a bright confident girl from the most backward areas in Pakistan and the hawkishly conservative tribal KPK, who got shot by Enemy of the West and survived an injury that technically should have killed her on the spot if not for heavy loss of blood. She went abroad and was given a platform by countries used to giving platforms to ‘newsworthy’ people for furthering global developmental goals. Her rise to fame (and money) is phenomenal but it is based on character and luck. And she has used that privilege for something good - universal education for all and rights of children. And she has her whole life ahead of her to accomplish the symbol she’s come to represent.
It was this symbol that got Obamas to see her instead of our elected PM on his first visit to U.S. last year! In a capitalistic world where women are objectified, branded and sold on skewed perceptions, where anyone can make easy money off anything (Kardashian sex tape millions, Cyrus on a ball, marrying a Royal or Feudal, Big Brother, committing blasphemy / controversy) and a western sub-culture that gratifies 'famous for being famous' this girl has stayed focussed and dreamt big. Right after the announcement she thanked her father for ‘not clipping my wings’. Well, she needn’t worry. Millions of Pakistanis not used to praise of any sort will gladly do it for her!
Awards are always controversial and subjective. They are a strange mix of uniqueness of work, popularity of an individual and the awarding authority’s need to feel good about it’s self. Oscars became redundant a long time ago but the glamorous sizzle is still there - our own Sharmeen Obaid Chinoy won for documentary film on acid-attack survivors, ‘Saving Face’ in 2013. Ayesha Omar cannot sing to save her life but that has not stopped her from winning a Lux Style Award for Best Female Singer and getting the Cola advert simply on the strength of the hit comedy series she’s a vital part of! Even NPP has been accused of playing favorites, politics or downright racism in choosing winners. Ofcourse Obama did not deserve it nine months into his Presidency and Kissinger certainly absolutely irrevocably did not. But then many recipients of Pride of Performance by GoP did not either.
Five of the last 12 Nobel Peace Prize winners are Muslim. The important thing to gloat over is that one of our own has been felicitated. And she is only 17 which gives Pakistanis plenty of time to grow up to the idea!
Her entire Amanpour interview:
http://edition.cnn.com/video/data/2.0...
And my cover story from 2012, right after the attack on this braveheart’s life :)
http://pique.pk/a-girl-versus-a-militia/
CULTURAL INACCURACIES IN 'DUKHTAR' - Pakistan's official entry for Oscars 2015:
Pakistan is a kaleidoscope of such a colorful and morbid reality that I have often thought an exercise in fiction about this country is a useless exercise - after all, the daily news is strange enough to make a good dramatic story.
This is primarily the reason ‘Dukhtar’, Pakistan’s official entry for Oscars 2015, is a letdown. Made by a Pakistani with the sensibilities of a foreigner, the script is barren and characters as cardboard in the end as they were in the first scene that introduced them. On paper, making a film about the menace of child marriage and female barter ship to settle scores and make peace between vengeful tribes seems like a winning idea, especially if you are aiming for international awards and festivals. Heck, even the idea of a woman wanting more out of her life is great. However, from the get-go you feel like you are watching a bunch of actors thrown about to ‘fit’ a narrative that is as far-fetched as a Punjabi film. What makes it worse is that you do not feel any empathy or sense of danger for the leads.
Afia Nathaniel’s first shot is of a dreaming mother visualizing a life out in the open - an idea that remains unexplored for the whole film. Since the film fails to explain where it takes place, you are left to make assumptions based on the dialects and looks of the leads and the location of shoot. It seems like Samiya Mumtaz is an urdu-speaking Punjabi married off to a Pashtun tribal warlord as a 15-year old and now has a ten-year old daughter with him. How did that happen would have made for a far more entertaining story. If she is supposed to play a Pathan or Hunzai, she could have atleast worked on her accent. It’s almost like a white man playing a black one and as much insensitive. For a story that takes place allegedly in Pukhtun and/ or Northern Areas, the lead roles are given to non-Pathan actors who never look a shred beyond what they are: Karachiittes.
As the husband, legendary Asif Khan is grotesquely underused. Samina Ahmed who only shows up in the last reel of the film has more significance than him. Khan is the sole man of his tribe to go blindfolded to neighboring Nuristan (Mullah Fazlullah’s hangout) to talk peace with a warring chieftain who has lost more men to Khan than vice versa. Instead of shooting Khan dead on the spot like any warring chief worth his salt and kalashnikov, the old chieftain propositions marriage to his girl-child. No money, smuggled goods, arms, goats or territories are offered. Just a single girl-child. And viola! there will be singing doves!
Mumtaz, who has made a career out of the single-tone painful expression perennially registered on her face, is the only adult female in her home, in the un-named village, on the road and in subsequent rooftops and cellphone chit chats. It is not till she reaches Lahore that the viewer sees another woman on Planet Pakistan. This is another one of those elements used by foreigners when making films about cultures they don’t have time for nor care to know. When I interviewed Pushto poet Akmal Laywanay in his home in Shamozai, Mardan in 2007 amidst his reservations on a woman entering the ‘mardana’ side of the house, the ‘zanana’ (female section in conservative households) was still full of women and girls from the very old to the very young. There was one ‘modern’ (read ‘Indian’) bathroom in the village and that was in another house down the street. The girls were all uneducated and could only understand Pushto. None of them had access to a man. Right after the Lal Masjid massacre, I spoke to the survivors and their families (living in Rahim Yar Khan, Mansehra, Charsadda and Islamabad) and two things were clear: girls wore burka and had no access to TV, not even PTV and fathers were openly affectionate to daughters they barely saw.
Nathaniel’s world of conservative dangerous households consists of a girl-child going to a school, learning English, with a mother who regularly watches dramas and is alone with untamed relatives! The husband and father, Khan, is shown as cold but in his house, the females are doing alright!
Choices make or break lives and nobody knows it better than a Pakistani woman. Once a bunch of educated brilliant women from Dir working as medical health practitioners (doctor, nurse, LHW) backtracked on a scheduled interview because they feared they would be shot in Peshawar during recording of the program - not by their families but by extremists! And remember the Kohistan video scandal where the mere videotaping of clapping girls was enough to ensure their death as well as that of the four brothers - two of whom were dancing in the video? The case that led Supreme Court to pass orders that no girl will be killed and Farzana Bari to eulogize to uninterested locals that ‘these are your women, you have to protect them’? The net result was the alleged throwing of all girls in the river and murder of the video-makers. This is the reality of going against tradition.
Hence, it is inexplicable how Nathaniel envisaged a woman in bright clothes could scurry through an entire narrow pathway without being seen by a single man or child, manage to get hold of a truck driver, sit next to him on the front seat, moonlight with him for days, never have a discussion with her daughter about why they ran, never show any kind of urgency of the danger they are in or interest in the fact that they will be killed, and yet still be surprised when she is caught, accused of having a lover and about to be shot dead! Anjuman gyrating in the fields of Punjab does not look so far-fetched anymore.
Another aspect in which the film fails women is the manner in which the mother endangers the life of her own child time and time again and how a stranger, a truck driver, comes to their rescue again and again. Why he does so in the first place is never explained. In the funniest scene of the entire film, he actually abandons his truck for a woman he barely knows! It’s almost like the coal miners leaving the donkey that their lives depend on. As all the drivers of burning NATO containers will tell you - no truck is ever left behind. He is also the first trucker who has forgotten his slang, expletives, loud music, opium, nose picking, rubbing his shalwar and general horniness - or maybe he is hiding it all under his well-blow-dried hair. I half-expected him to break into a ‘luddi’ dance (folk dance) on the rooftop he romances Mumtaz.
And last but not least, the clumsy half-baked death threat of Ajab Gul’s wannabe paramour in the end, where he resists shooting the woman he has been hunting for days is so incredibly juvenile that it bares disbelief. In 1999, Samia Sarwar was shot dead by the man her own mother brought along to her lawyer’s office. Little has changed since then. Every other day a ticker passes by on TV screens telling how some father has swiftly gotten rid of his ‘wayward’ daughter. Lesson: nobody thinks twice before shooting a woman.
To top it all of, the idea that Lahore is a safe haven for them is childish. Just four months ago, a pregnant woman was bludgeoned to death amongst spectators and police outside Lahore High Court. Her name was Farzana Parveen. No place is safe for such women. But then a neat bow could not be tied over the parceled film, could it?
The three things that Nathaniel gets right in the film are the truck, the cinematography and the girl-child (played in vivacious intelligent strokes by Saleha Arif stealing every scene she is in).
It’s great that indigenous subjects are being taken up for filmmaking. Pakistan is our country - bloodied, bruised, ignorant, emotional, frustrated - with an incredible richness of mood, thought and expression - forever gliding between what could be and what is. Let’s not put it in a sanitized box.
This is primarily the reason ‘Dukhtar’, Pakistan’s official entry for Oscars 2015, is a letdown. Made by a Pakistani with the sensibilities of a foreigner, the script is barren and characters as cardboard in the end as they were in the first scene that introduced them. On paper, making a film about the menace of child marriage and female barter ship to settle scores and make peace between vengeful tribes seems like a winning idea, especially if you are aiming for international awards and festivals. Heck, even the idea of a woman wanting more out of her life is great. However, from the get-go you feel like you are watching a bunch of actors thrown about to ‘fit’ a narrative that is as far-fetched as a Punjabi film. What makes it worse is that you do not feel any empathy or sense of danger for the leads.
Afia Nathaniel’s first shot is of a dreaming mother visualizing a life out in the open - an idea that remains unexplored for the whole film. Since the film fails to explain where it takes place, you are left to make assumptions based on the dialects and looks of the leads and the location of shoot. It seems like Samiya Mumtaz is an urdu-speaking Punjabi married off to a Pashtun tribal warlord as a 15-year old and now has a ten-year old daughter with him. How did that happen would have made for a far more entertaining story. If she is supposed to play a Pathan or Hunzai, she could have atleast worked on her accent. It’s almost like a white man playing a black one and as much insensitive. For a story that takes place allegedly in Pukhtun and/ or Northern Areas, the lead roles are given to non-Pathan actors who never look a shred beyond what they are: Karachiittes.
As the husband, legendary Asif Khan is grotesquely underused. Samina Ahmed who only shows up in the last reel of the film has more significance than him. Khan is the sole man of his tribe to go blindfolded to neighboring Nuristan (Mullah Fazlullah’s hangout) to talk peace with a warring chieftain who has lost more men to Khan than vice versa. Instead of shooting Khan dead on the spot like any warring chief worth his salt and kalashnikov, the old chieftain propositions marriage to his girl-child. No money, smuggled goods, arms, goats or territories are offered. Just a single girl-child. And viola! there will be singing doves!
Mumtaz, who has made a career out of the single-tone painful expression perennially registered on her face, is the only adult female in her home, in the un-named village, on the road and in subsequent rooftops and cellphone chit chats. It is not till she reaches Lahore that the viewer sees another woman on Planet Pakistan. This is another one of those elements used by foreigners when making films about cultures they don’t have time for nor care to know. When I interviewed Pushto poet Akmal Laywanay in his home in Shamozai, Mardan in 2007 amidst his reservations on a woman entering the ‘mardana’ side of the house, the ‘zanana’ (female section in conservative households) was still full of women and girls from the very old to the very young. There was one ‘modern’ (read ‘Indian’) bathroom in the village and that was in another house down the street. The girls were all uneducated and could only understand Pushto. None of them had access to a man. Right after the Lal Masjid massacre, I spoke to the survivors and their families (living in Rahim Yar Khan, Mansehra, Charsadda and Islamabad) and two things were clear: girls wore burka and had no access to TV, not even PTV and fathers were openly affectionate to daughters they barely saw.
Nathaniel’s world of conservative dangerous households consists of a girl-child going to a school, learning English, with a mother who regularly watches dramas and is alone with untamed relatives! The husband and father, Khan, is shown as cold but in his house, the females are doing alright!
Choices make or break lives and nobody knows it better than a Pakistani woman. Once a bunch of educated brilliant women from Dir working as medical health practitioners (doctor, nurse, LHW) backtracked on a scheduled interview because they feared they would be shot in Peshawar during recording of the program - not by their families but by extremists! And remember the Kohistan video scandal where the mere videotaping of clapping girls was enough to ensure their death as well as that of the four brothers - two of whom were dancing in the video? The case that led Supreme Court to pass orders that no girl will be killed and Farzana Bari to eulogize to uninterested locals that ‘these are your women, you have to protect them’? The net result was the alleged throwing of all girls in the river and murder of the video-makers. This is the reality of going against tradition.
Hence, it is inexplicable how Nathaniel envisaged a woman in bright clothes could scurry through an entire narrow pathway without being seen by a single man or child, manage to get hold of a truck driver, sit next to him on the front seat, moonlight with him for days, never have a discussion with her daughter about why they ran, never show any kind of urgency of the danger they are in or interest in the fact that they will be killed, and yet still be surprised when she is caught, accused of having a lover and about to be shot dead! Anjuman gyrating in the fields of Punjab does not look so far-fetched anymore.
Another aspect in which the film fails women is the manner in which the mother endangers the life of her own child time and time again and how a stranger, a truck driver, comes to their rescue again and again. Why he does so in the first place is never explained. In the funniest scene of the entire film, he actually abandons his truck for a woman he barely knows! It’s almost like the coal miners leaving the donkey that their lives depend on. As all the drivers of burning NATO containers will tell you - no truck is ever left behind. He is also the first trucker who has forgotten his slang, expletives, loud music, opium, nose picking, rubbing his shalwar and general horniness - or maybe he is hiding it all under his well-blow-dried hair. I half-expected him to break into a ‘luddi’ dance (folk dance) on the rooftop he romances Mumtaz.
And last but not least, the clumsy half-baked death threat of Ajab Gul’s wannabe paramour in the end, where he resists shooting the woman he has been hunting for days is so incredibly juvenile that it bares disbelief. In 1999, Samia Sarwar was shot dead by the man her own mother brought along to her lawyer’s office. Little has changed since then. Every other day a ticker passes by on TV screens telling how some father has swiftly gotten rid of his ‘wayward’ daughter. Lesson: nobody thinks twice before shooting a woman.
To top it all of, the idea that Lahore is a safe haven for them is childish. Just four months ago, a pregnant woman was bludgeoned to death amongst spectators and police outside Lahore High Court. Her name was Farzana Parveen. No place is safe for such women. But then a neat bow could not be tied over the parceled film, could it?
The three things that Nathaniel gets right in the film are the truck, the cinematography and the girl-child (played in vivacious intelligent strokes by Saleha Arif stealing every scene she is in).
It’s great that indigenous subjects are being taken up for filmmaking. Pakistan is our country - bloodied, bruised, ignorant, emotional, frustrated - with an incredible richness of mood, thought and expression - forever gliding between what could be and what is. Let’s not put it in a sanitized box.
