Arabian Nights and Days Naguib Mahfouz

This is a collection of traditional tales with a twist. The oral traditions of Arabic culture have been reshaped for a contemporary audience. Its proverb-like episodes are reminiscent of Aesop's Fables, the African stories of Anansi, and even the popular Bible bed time stories. The backbone of the original thousand and one stories still remains in Mahfouz's stories. The dialogue is still formulaic (religious, call-and-answer), the characters and culture remains, yet there is shade of modern flavor.

It was easy to read these stories as separate events in the same context. Yet, it was difficult to see an underlying theme or unifying current of ideas throughout the whole of it. Not only were the names running together in my head, but the writing style made it tough reading as dialogue didn't seem to move the plot forward ("Is he straying from the right path? He is waging war against error to the extent of his ability. Now my heart is at peace, said Aladdin happily. But you must know yourself. He is poor, but rich in bearing the worries of mankind" (167)). Some stories deal almost explicitly with corruption/human justice (The Café of the Emirs, Gamasa Al-Bulti) whereas some explore the idea of hierarchy, (incomprehensible) fate and destiny (Sanaan Al-Gamali, Nur al-Din and Dunyazad, Aladdin with the Moles on His Cheeks). Some stories just, cut-off without an apparent ending - they leave you with an odd sense that it will (it should) be resolved in later stories.

I appreciated all the colors and shades of the book as it reworked universal human themes - without providing one satisfactory answer. People died because they deserved it or committed a big taboo; they died when they didn't deserve it; they died for no reason at all. Just as the line between fantasy and reality became blurred, the line between right and wrong seemed to grow hazier amidst the multitude of characters and plot lines. However, after the last discussion of the novel and the last chapter (The Grievers), it became a little bit clearer that Mahfouz is dancing around certain themes, offering variations of plausible conclusions. For three chapters discussed in class (Sanaan al-Gamali, Gamasa Al-Bulti, The Porter) Mahfouz plays with the concept of justice and mercy. Can a human be an arbiter of justice? Is human justice just as moral and true as supernatural justice? Should justice be meted out by the citizens for the citizens, or by the people at the top of the social hierarchy? And, how does one balance (or decide between) justice and mercy?

The first and last chapters act as book-ends of the colorful collection of stories. Mahfouz touches back on the original (or first) love story between Sharhriyar and Shahrzad, finally letting the reader know that all stories are coming to a close. The sultan's decision to turn irreversibly from ruling and his beautiful wife signals a turning point in the characterization of an evil-turned-good person. He leaves "throne and glory, woman and child" because of his desire for complete salvation, enters into a dream-like reality where he marries a queen and lives peacefully until his curiosity gets the better of him (222). He opens a prohibited door, irreversibly sending himself back into the former reality where corruption is rampant and genies wreak havoc out of boredom. How can we, as readers, reconcile this return back to the beginning? Has something changed within us as we finish the collection of stories just as the sultan completes a life circuit? Can we, like the sultan, be able to reconcile our human desires with the calling of a greater purpose? Or, are these stories mere entertainment?

Please Look After Mom by Kyung-Sook Shin

This story is about loss. Loss that hurts deeply and suddenly; a loss unpredictable and incomprehensible. Each of the family members in the story go through a form of mourning when the mother is lost in such a mundane way on mass transit that it is too ridiculous and shameful to acknowledge it to others. The children are angry at each other because they are mad at themselves - they can't believe they lost her. The father cannot believe it the most; he is filled with the regret of not being physically and emotionally there for her while she was with him.

Some moments of the poignant novel resonated with me: what it feels like standing in Seoul Subway Station while everyone is rushing past, eating some of the foods mentioned in the book, the connection of the elder brother to the rest of the family, the way the family views education… I also thought about my own grandmother, who lived during the war and my mother who was born post-war. My grandmother fled from her home in northern Korea on a rumor a few days before June 25, 1950. She was a refugee in her own country for three years, living without a home and husband. I couldn't help but remember her as I read this book even though I did not know her well. I only knew her from the stories she could bear to share with her children, which were then shared sparingly with me. I could even hear my parents' voices in the novel, too. I can imagine my mother telling my older brother something that the mother in the novel could be telling Hyong-chol.

But there were also parts that I could not connect with. The overwhelming guilt towards a family member, barely surviving on food grown in the fields, and having a house to return to time after time are foreign to me as some of the Korean culture can be foreign to English readers. I thought that because the book was Korean I would immediately be attracted to it, but I wasn't and it's hard to pinpoint why. Perhaps it is because of my high expectations for a Korean novel, or because I was too familiar with Korean family dynamics within its culture that I tended towards judgment if something was not accurately represented. Overall, I appreciated Shin's dive into a Korean family for its depth and emotional honesty.

Concerns in literature

What are the concerns in literature as your understand those concerns today?

I think one of the concerns is dealing with the breadth of information and sheer amount of words out there. I mean, I find it difficult to navigate my way through the new releases, best sellers, magazine's lists, and books nominated and/or awarded prizes. Plus, there are a lot of books that aren't in those above mentioned lists that have been compiled by someone. Books from the past, obscure books, limited books, controversial books... I think my concern is about the fact that in literature today, there is a lot of quantity - but is there as much quality, too?

To be honest, there are so many books out there that have been painstakingly written and edited and finally published that are, to be blunt, trash. Certainly "trash" is a relative term, and one that is subjective. But most of readers today would agree that there does exist books that are just not worth one's time and energy. I mean, haven't you ever de-suggested a book to someone - "Oh no, don't read that book"?

However, I think that everyone has their standard and freedom to judge reading material as they see fit, as related to their culture, background, education etc. And who knows, books from the past that were deemed "trash" and not fit to be read can be considered something worthwhile. The Catcher in the Rye was not considered the best in the game - it contained profanity, explores adolescent sexuality, and didn't seem to adhere to any of the 50's literature (compare with Hemingway, Steinbeck...). Today, however, Salinger's book is part of high school curricula in the US and though, still somewhat controversial, is acknowledged if not accepted by critics and writers. 

Another related concern is that, in order to work our way through the thousands of books, we need critics and magazines and TV shows and talk show hosts to tell us what books are "in", or necessary to read as a 21th century educated human being. New books hit the stores monthly and people scramble to get the newest or the latest or the one that's been talked about on TV shows. I suppose it is not all together bad or detrimental that we look to others for our book choices. We don't have much time to spare between our classes, people, and other clubs or activities to peruse covers or analyze themes to see which one would be worth our time and energy. But then again, what we read is what we think about or dwell on - it's what we choose to invest ourselves in, whether for pleasure or learning. Shouldn't we at least put some time into carefully choosing what we read and put into our minds? I guess, for me, making it to a book list of a magazine or something doesn't necessarily make it a "good" book. Another human being (or a group of them) collected the books, judged them in someway, and published a list. I wonder if that person actually reads all those books, analyzed its teleological content and depth of topic...