(M44'12) Exiled: Memoirs of a Camel, Kathleen Karr
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1mirrani
Not the first time I've read this book, just the first time I've made notes and reviewed it. It's one of my favorites. I love, love, LOVE the connection with the camels being Muslim.
2mirrani
As I'd said, I've read this one before... several times, in fact, but it needed to be reviewed by me and I was on my way to the Animals In War memorial in London, so I thought I would read this story to take up the time on the tube. Something light, but true at the same time.
I have /always/ enjoyed how the camel culture is to be Muslim. It's not ground in to you, but there are thoughts that remind you where the animals come from. You're not talking about American born animals here and they're not going to /think/ like American born animals... Take the first page..
Allah in His infinite wisdom created my kind, and I have no grudge to bear on that account. Are we not full of His meaning and high design? Are not we Ships of the Desert wonderfully practical? We can survive without water for days, we can live on thorns. But the part about carrying men and goods, and having hair useful for weaving, and flesh that can be eaten . . . truly this I could have done without. I also could have done without exile from my native land. But that, after, all is the meat and drink of my story. p7
When I was born on the banks of the Upper Nile near Luxor, no mountains shook to proclaim my destiny. p8
The wording in this book is actually this beautiful throughout, so I'll skip along for a way...
I looked upon Major-Sir with further regard and shot a nice wad at his feet.
Major-Sir roared with laughter. The sound rumbled from deep within his chest, like a camel. "Come along, Ali. We're off to the port of Alexandria, and from there across the ocean. You're going to have thousands of miles of American desert to spit in." p32
This next conversation was wonderful to read, the contrast between the old and new, the wanting to hold on to what was because it is still a part of you... or do you simply let go and accept what is to be, ignoring where you came from?
"Omar?" I b linked and retreated--not far enough--as his neck swung toward me again. Even a playful bash from his kind could be painful.
"There are hectares of space out here, Wrestler." I shook the wool from my head. "Find some of it for yourself."
"Acres, Ali." Omar sneered, still blocking me. "Learn the new words for the new land."
"There is something wrong with the old ones?"
"Adjust with the land, Ali. It is progress."p 75
You really just feel the perspective in that conversation.. Or I did, anyway.
If Allah did indeed know the future, I began to wish He had more of a sense of humor about it. p98
This line always makes me laugh.
The soldier-beast replied to her cries with the most vulgar of curses. Such words were unsuitable for her maidenly ears, and Fatinah protested more strongly. p99
This was another thing that was repeated, the /respect/ of women. So much culture hidden within story. It's really just perfectly written.
Argh Why was she so passive? So submissive? Why couldn't she think to fight her way out as I would? . . . Yet if she were made so, I would be unnecessary. p123
I like this perspective too, born as it is from everything being Allah's will. It's his will that she is the way he is so that Ali can be the way he is and each need the other... Well that's reading deeply into it, but the sentiment is the same.
At last we crossed some mysterious, invisible border.
"Hurrah for California!" the soldier-beasts shouted, tossing their caps into the air. p137
Not only can you visualize this, but the line simply makes you laugh out loud. It also makes you think how unimportant the state lines actually are... beyond causing issues with address and location and whatnot... what's the difference between standing an inch into North Carolina, an inch into Virginia, or putting one foot on each side?
Fatinah smiled. "Quickly. Come and meet your son. He is very hungry and will not put up with a curious father for long."
"A son? Truly?" I stepped over and smelled the little one. He was warm and soft. I let out a vast roar of wonder and delight. My son screamed. p186
Later on, he has another child, a girl, and he notes he didn't bellow in her ear the way he had here... Which is just as amusing as the action itself.
Groaning. I rose. This fathering business had more to it than met the eye. p188
I will leave us with this truth and run off to write a most favorable review.
I have /always/ enjoyed how the camel culture is to be Muslim. It's not ground in to you, but there are thoughts that remind you where the animals come from. You're not talking about American born animals here and they're not going to /think/ like American born animals... Take the first page..
Allah in His infinite wisdom created my kind, and I have no grudge to bear on that account. Are we not full of His meaning and high design? Are not we Ships of the Desert wonderfully practical? We can survive without water for days, we can live on thorns. But the part about carrying men and goods, and having hair useful for weaving, and flesh that can be eaten . . . truly this I could have done without. I also could have done without exile from my native land. But that, after, all is the meat and drink of my story. p7
When I was born on the banks of the Upper Nile near Luxor, no mountains shook to proclaim my destiny. p8
The wording in this book is actually this beautiful throughout, so I'll skip along for a way...
I looked upon Major-Sir with further regard and shot a nice wad at his feet.
Major-Sir roared with laughter. The sound rumbled from deep within his chest, like a camel. "Come along, Ali. We're off to the port of Alexandria, and from there across the ocean. You're going to have thousands of miles of American desert to spit in." p32
This next conversation was wonderful to read, the contrast between the old and new, the wanting to hold on to what was because it is still a part of you... or do you simply let go and accept what is to be, ignoring where you came from?
"Omar?" I b linked and retreated--not far enough--as his neck swung toward me again. Even a playful bash from his kind could be painful.
"There are hectares of space out here, Wrestler." I shook the wool from my head. "Find some of it for yourself."
"Acres, Ali." Omar sneered, still blocking me. "Learn the new words for the new land."
"There is something wrong with the old ones?"
"Adjust with the land, Ali. It is progress."p 75
You really just feel the perspective in that conversation.. Or I did, anyway.
If Allah did indeed know the future, I began to wish He had more of a sense of humor about it. p98
This line always makes me laugh.
The soldier-beast replied to her cries with the most vulgar of curses. Such words were unsuitable for her maidenly ears, and Fatinah protested more strongly. p99
This was another thing that was repeated, the /respect/ of women. So much culture hidden within story. It's really just perfectly written.
Argh Why was she so passive? So submissive? Why couldn't she think to fight her way out as I would? . . . Yet if she were made so, I would be unnecessary. p123
I like this perspective too, born as it is from everything being Allah's will. It's his will that she is the way he is so that Ali can be the way he is and each need the other... Well that's reading deeply into it, but the sentiment is the same.
At last we crossed some mysterious, invisible border.
"Hurrah for California!" the soldier-beasts shouted, tossing their caps into the air. p137
Not only can you visualize this, but the line simply makes you laugh out loud. It also makes you think how unimportant the state lines actually are... beyond causing issues with address and location and whatnot... what's the difference between standing an inch into North Carolina, an inch into Virginia, or putting one foot on each side?
Fatinah smiled. "Quickly. Come and meet your son. He is very hungry and will not put up with a curious father for long."
"A son? Truly?" I stepped over and smelled the little one. He was warm and soft. I let out a vast roar of wonder and delight. My son screamed. p186
Later on, he has another child, a girl, and he notes he didn't bellow in her ear the way he had here... Which is just as amusing as the action itself.
Groaning. I rose. This fathering business had more to it than met the eye. p188
I will leave us with this truth and run off to write a most favorable review.
3cedargrove
When we read this before, I liked the lyrical quality of the text - it really is quite beautiful. You're right about the culture too, embedded there in the text. It realy is a very good book.
