i want to start our little book trail conversation by telling you how i came across this fit-in-your-hands novel. joe has been following yann martel’s blog: what is stephen harper reading? [you might recognize the name yann martel as the guy who wrote the life of pi.] martel suggested the cellist of sarajevo. i’ll leave you to investigate the blog if you feel so inclined, but i want to point out something that martel writes to describe how and why he’s chosen the books to send to stephen harper. [by the way, if you're not up on canadian politics, stephen harper is the prime minister up north.]
martel writes:
To read a book, one must be still. To watch a concert, a play, a movie, to look at a painting, one must be still. Religion, too, makes use of stillness, notably with prayer and meditation. Just gazing upon a still lake, upon a quiet winter scene—doesn’t that lull us into contemplation? Life, it seems, favours moments of stillness to appear on the edges of our perception and whisper to us, “Here I am. What do you think?” Then we become busy and the stillness vanishes, yet we hardly notice because we fall so easily for the delusion of busyness, whereby what keeps us busy must be important, and the busier we are with it, the more important it must be. And so we work, work, work, rush, rush, rush. On occasion we say to ourselves, panting, “Gosh, life is racing by.” But that’s not it at all, it’s the contrary: life is still. It is we who are racing by.
all of this is a preamble to what i feel like saying about the cellist of sarajevo. it is a book that speaks to stillness. a book that i was able to read in day while shuffling about with my other responsibilities, but even when i wasn’t reading it, it was a part of me. i couldn’t forget about the stories that were suspended. and when i finished i felt something so big i’m still not sure how to describe the feeling. it was like loving everyone and everything a little more–while mourning all sorts of things and people i’ve never met, never saved, never even realized.
and that last line. didn’t you gasp at the last line? even through all that terror, the last line saves the humanity of every character. it saves mine and yours.
this book could have been written like what is the what. [remember when we read that?] it could have made us feel guilty and ugly for everything we didn’t stop during the seige of sarajevo. but it didn’t. instead it made me feel like saving the things i can save. whatever those are. no matter how small or globally insignificant.
so. speak up. how did this book affect you? what did you find lovely? what made you shiver? would you recommend it to your mother? did it expand your stillness?
I loved it. I loved that it made me stop and think about what really matters in life, what makes me happy and what I would do to keep those things in my life.
It made me realize how small my view of the world really is. I had no idea that people where living in such conditions and there are people in other parts of the world who are still living in like conditions. The book made me mad at people, people who think they have power and are better then other people just because they are living on one side of an imaginary line. To quote from Arrow, “The Sarajevo she fought for was one where you didn’t have to hate a person because of what they were. It didn’t matter what you were, what your ancesters had been, or what your children would be. You could hate a person for what they DID. You could hate a murderer, rapist, thief…” (page 151 or 181- I can’t read my own writing)Looking at the action not the person can be- hard to do. Like JK Rowling’s Professor Dumbledore said, “It is our choices Harry that show us what we truly are, fare more then our abilities.” We all have the ability to love and to hate, and its the choice we make that will be the judge of our character not our ability to choose.
I think this book helps me realize that I can choose my own attitudes even under the worst of circumstances. If someone can pick up water for a grumpy and seemingly unappreciative neighbor, if someone can risk their life to bring beauty into the world, if someone can choose to stick to their own morals and be compassionate. It makes me question what would I do under those circumstances and if I would do those things in that situation why why not do them now?
This is a must read for everyone, of every age, in every walk of life.
Now you have to remind me what the last line of the book is- I had to return my book to the library and I can’t remember the line what was it?
The book also motivated me to go to Costco and stock up on toilet paper and water.
Stillness, yes! That’s the feeling I was getting. It was kind of haunting, but in a more peaceful way, which is saying something for a book about war and death.
My favorite part was the story of the father (I can’t remember his name!) leaves the neighbor’s water jugs at the bridge, fed up with her requests, and convinced he’s justified in leaving them, and maybe he is. But then he goes back and gets them later. It’s how I am, I do something impatient or kind of mean because I feel justified, but admit to myself later that of course, there is never a good enough reason to be unkind.
Sal’s crying. Saved from trying to think up any profound thoughts about the book. The book was great. You should read it if you haven’t.
Thanks for not putting the last line in your post–I’m not there yet, but I think I will get there (someday these exams will be over (next Monday, actually) and I’ll be a real boy (if I pass).
I’ll give a preliminary comment on what I’ve read so far, and then comment again when I finish.
So far, I’ve read two chapters. That’s all.
I loved the first chapter–part of me wished that the text ended after the first chapter. I think it stands alone very well and has the kind of emotional unity that draws me toward the short story as a genre.
As I read the second chapter, I got distracted by exams. As a reader I lost the intensity that I took through the first chapter. I’ll pick it up again soon, and see how the rest of the book reads me.
PS–Can I take this opportunity to say that I am very excited to read 100 Years of Solitude?
Because I am . . .
OK–Back to work.
Let me preface this by saying that I am not a deep, analytical, philosophical person and as such I am not a deep, analytical or philosophical reader . That being said, I too enjoyed the book. I love finding glimpses of humanity when it appears that all humanity is lost. I found a greater determination to little kinder, give someone the benefit of the doubt, and appreciate the things I take for granted such as running water and reliable electricity. A touching book. Thanks for the recommendation!
I was glad to find out that the book was not about the cellist so much as how people react to the cellist. This because I, as a once and future cellist, have special understanding of how bad a book about a cellist would be.
This was the best fiction I’ve read in a few years. It was short and action-packed enough. And it meant something, but not just anything. It meant something that felt right. It said to me, as my personal, private self, “have moral courage. it will change the world.”
I’m rather disappointed, but my copy is still not in at the library. I’ve checked the Web site every day for the past week, and I’m still No. 1 on the hold list. And then No. 1 on the hold list. Still No. 1 on the hold list. I’m out of reading material at home, which is really distressing to me (!), and yet I wait.
I know it will be worth it, though.
i’m glad that you all enjoyed it. i’m still thinking about the book… [and waiting for my mom to make a comment about the power of music to heal and strengthen during difficult circumstances... ]
ps - get reading 100 years of solitude because i think it’s going to take me 100 years of solitude to finish it.