And the mountains echoed: engrossing story from the master story teller

Posted on September 2, 2013

Khaled Husseini

For some time now I have longed to read a story that has a good old fashioned story telling style – A simple narration of life of ordinary people and their interaction with mountains, seasons, trees, birds and beasts. Khaled Husseini’s book starts with one such beautiful story told by a father to his 10 year old son and  3 year old daughter.
The story sets the stage for what is to happen in the life of this small family in a small Afghan village. The novel is a wonderfully told bitter sweet story of love that is tested by the harsh realities of life. It gripped me right from the start.
The author is a master story teller and knows how to bring all his characters alive. Not only the people but also a hundred year old oak tree and  a dog called Shuja become real characters in the story. A hard working father Saboor, loving brother Abdullah, his young sister Pari, twin sisters Parwana and Mastana , driver Nabi, rebellious poet Nila and her introvert husband Suleiman, all become alive through the story. The story moves from a small village of Shadbagh to Kabul; from poverty, cold and hardships to luxury, parties and complex relationships. The era comes alive and the reader is transported to Afghan life.
..And then the story loses focus. It takes us along with Nila and Pari to Paris, with Markos to the Greek island of Tinos, along with Idris to America and with Iqbal and Ghulam back to a completely changed Shahbad. As a reader I still lingered in earlier Shahbad and Kabul. Even though these later locales and the characters inhibiting them do take the story ahead, somewhere a feeling of losing focus and going all over the place sets in. This unfortunately also becomes a shortcoming of the book.
I think the end too lets the reader down. The much anticipated brother-sister meeting does take place but by then a lot of water has flown under the bridge and the emotional connect has been lost. The lives in the Western world appear to be uninteresting and mundane. What starts as a gripping story, ends into a sort of lost cause.
Even with these two shortcomings, I’m still recommending this book to all the readers. It will live with you for a long time and Afghanistan with its mountains, seasons and people will make you long for a visit.

Here is the poem by William Blake that gives the book its name (hills change to mountains)

Nurse’s Song

William Blake (1757–1827)

When the voices of children are heard on the green
And laughing is heard on the hill,
My heart is at rest within my breast
And every thing else is still

Then come home my children, the sun is gone down
And the dews of night arise
Come come leave off play, and let us away
Till the morning appears in the skies

No no let us play, for it is yet day
And we cannot go to sleep
Besides in the sky, the little birds fly
And the hills are all cover’d with sheep

Well well go & play till the light fades away
And then go home to bed
The little ones leaped & shouted & laugh’d
And all the hills echoed.