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443 pages, Hardcover
First published January 10, 2012
1. As a whole, this novel was even more enjoyable and impressive than I was excitedly expecting based upon this great review of it—the review that instantly caused my cursor to float over the ‘add to my books’ button and my finger to give the clicking go-ahead.
2. Once inside the book it circumnavigated my plot point projections and hypotheses and went in directions—both in story and style—that I didn’t possibly see coming, not in the slightest.
"Where we are from, he said, stories are factual. If a farmer is declared a music virtuoso by the state, everyone had better start calling him maestro. And secretly, he'd be wise to start practicing the piano. For us, the story is more important than the person. If a man and his story are in conflict, it is the man who must change."There's scarcely a page that is not disturbing in one way or another to its intended Western(ized) reader. There are scenes that are so suddenly graphic and painful that they will forever be etched into my memory - like a tattoo, if you allow me to use that comparison. (A certain tattoo worn over a heart is quite important in this book, just so you know). And there is not a page that does not in one way or another condemn totalitarian propaganda-based way of running the lives of people and the horrific ways little people get run over by the relentless machine of the State.
"Real stories like this, human ones, could get you sent to prison, and it didn’t matter what they were about. It didn’t matter if the story was about an old woman or a squid attack— if it diverted emotion from the Dear Leader, it was dangerous."I think I'd prefer it had this book been just a speculation only, perhaps a glimpse into a fictional dystopian society (like Orwell's 1984, for instance), and not presented as representing the life in a real country full of real people because then I'd be able to allow both my brain and my heart to run with the story, to fully feel the horror and hopelessness and desperation and outrage instead of always keeping myself in check by involuntary reminders that I will never know what is real and what is created to capitalize on our society's deep fears stemming from our culture's ingrained values. And when it comes to the lives of a whole real country, these uncertainties, these questions of what is real and what is there just to make me have a desired reaction suddenly become a real huge deal to me.
“What happened?” Buc asked him.
“I told her the truth about something,” Ga answered.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” Buc said. “It’s bad for people’s health.”
“I wonder of what you must daily endure in America, having no government to protect you, no one to tell you what to do. Is it true you're given no ration card, that you must find food for yourself? Is it true that you labor for no higher purpose than paper money? What is California, this place you come from? I have never seen a picture. What plays over the American loudspeakers, when is your curfew, what is taught at your child-rearing collectives? Where does a woman go with her children on Sunday afternoons, and if a woman loses her husband, how does she know the government will assign her a good replacement? With whom would she curry favor to ensure her children got the best Youth Troop leader?”This novel has it all--adventure, suspense, a great literary structure and even some romance:
“They’re [poems] about a woman whose beauty is like a rare flower. There is a man who has a great love for her, a love he’s been saving up for his entire life, and it doesn’t matter that he must make a great journey to her, and it doesn’t matter if their time together is brief, that afterward he might lose her, for she is the flower of his heart and nothing will keep him from her.”
:"Part Two: The Confessions of Commander Ga
"…Always they are stealing flowers,” Sun Moon remarked as they passed by. “It sickens me. My great-uncle is in there, you know. Do you know what that says to our ancestors, how it must insult them?”
Ga asked her, “Why do you think they steal the flowers?”
“Yes, that’s the question, isn’t it? Who would do that? What’s happening to our country?”
He stole a brief glance, to confirm her disbelief. Had she never been hungry enough to eat a flower? Did she not know that you could eat daisies, daylilies, pansies, and marigolds? That hungry enough, a person could consume the bright faces of violas, even the stems of dandelions and the bitter hips of roses?"
"And of Commander Ga? However lacking, however feeble you have judged his character, know that this is a story of growth and redemption, one in which enlightenment is gained by the lowliest of figures. Let this story be an inspiration when dealing with the weak-minded who share your communal housing blocks and the selfish who use all the soap in your group bathing wells. Know that change is achievable and that happy endings do come, for this story promises to have the happiest ending you will ever hear."