Right before I had made the choice for what English course I had planned to take in senior year, I was at a road block. AP Lang had challenged me, yet I hadn’t really read all year. The only difference between sophomore year and end of junior year me was I could tell you the logos, pathos, and ethos behind an essay written by an John or Jane Doe in the year 1800. Entering the course recommendation, I had been told that AP Lit would be a heavier course load, filled with much more non-fiction books, and that’s what caught my attention. That there would be much more reading, more applying, more imagination, in my opinion. Now, I could do one of two things: I could take a much lighter 1 semester course, (i.e. Sci-fi Lit, Sports & Lit, War & Lit, etc), get my A and graduate. Or, I could take a chance on one of the harder classes in the school, and see where my decision falls. To say I made the correct choice would be an understatement, as not only did I discover books that I loved, and even disliked, I gained my spark for reading back. Two books in particular stuck out to me out of the 8 or so we have read throughout the 9 months in this class, those being The Stranger and Beloved.

Similar to many others in my class, and especially on this blog, when I began reading the stranger, and even when I finished it, I had a strong distaste for Meursault, and who wouldn’t? The guy hadn’t cried at his mothers funeral, hadn’t reciprocated an ounce of love that his girlfriend had given him, and didn’t see the error in his commitment of a literal murder. What had irritated me even more so is that he only finally realized the meaning of life at the very end of his, that it took death for him to finally realize. Although it took me quite a few days to get over this anger towards Meursault, I realized something. That Meursault’s nihilism isn’t one of despair, but one of rebellion against forced meaning. Once the cloud of anger subsided, I realized that even Meursault realizes the greatness of his life, that at the end he is incredibly grateful for those who had interacted with him, and although cut short, he lived his life how we wanted, to his fullest, and no one else’s. Although his world is absurd, it inspired me to make and find my own fulfillment, not where others had looked/told me to look.

Beloved had such a similar effect on me too. Although there were points that had be at a lost for words, not in a way of amazement but one of bafflement, the book stuck with me. The way the book constantly shifted from the present to past, making the rushing emotions and thoughts of Sethe feel real, and eventually help piece together the story as a whole. The language was amazing, Morrison’s sentences are lyrical, meaningful, and powerful. Finally, Beloved was a centerpiece in showing me that stories aren’t just entertainment, but history. They matter. They carry history, they contain laughter, they contain pain, they contain who people are. This didn’t just spark my love for reading back, but ignited it.

After reading Exit West by Mohsin Hamid, I had a mixed set of emotions. I enjoyed it; the book was entertaining and, at times, had great writing. However, for the most part, I found myself questioning why the book had been so critically acclaimed.

As said previously, I found the book quite entertaining, especially the first quarter (give or take), when Nadia and Saheed are beginning their relationship amid their country’s civil war. However, after the first door they crossed through, it started to kind of fall apart for me. First, the lack of an explanation of the doors was a big part of it. Were they closet doors, entrances to a house, a bathroom, or any other sort of setting?  What was the experience, both visually and the physical sensation? The only answer I can come up with is that maybe the doors weren’t real, but meant to represent the experience of migrating to a new country, especially when yours is in the midst of a war, that no matter how prepared you are it’s sudden, almost like you’ve teleported somewhere else, not recognizing anything around you. Besides this, I felt that the doors were a way to skip over an otherwise long, yet important, detail. I also felt that the short sections talking about other lives never really developed the story. It gave great aspects of how other people are different, the contrast between one another, or even how the doors have affected them, but never connects these experiences, seemingly leaving them up in the air for interpretation with little setup.

Finally, I felt the ending was lacklustre. It was most likely due to the lack of closure, or being able to see the final development of Nadia and Saheed, or their journeys to said development after the first time they essentially broke up, but either way, this was another example of a rushed bit of the book. Personally, I would have enjoyed an extra 50 or so pages of their journeys, how often they thought of each other, if they had an impact on others’ decisions without knowing, or anything else along either of their journeys.

Overall, the book was enjoyable, but overall wasn’t as amazing as I had heard it to be. Although the points I went over are only 2 things, they’re still a huge part of the book that, at least for me, left it as an entertaining story at best, with some slightly deeper meanings here and there, but no real takeaways.