Text to Society- Princess: A True Story of Life Behind the Veil in Saudi Arabia

Warning: Not recommended for those who are have no feelings. In other words, everyone with a heart (literally, everyone) should take the time to read this insightful memoir.

Sultana, a young Saudi princess is born into prestige and opulent wealth. She has three mansions on four different continents, private jets, and numerous servants (read: house slaves) who attend to her every need. Are you jealous yet? Don't be. In reality, she hides under a veil. Sultanta cannot marry a man of her choice, must bear sons, and is subject to opression from the males of her soicety. Yeah, still jealous?

It's no secret that Saudi Arabia has an international reputation of violation of womens' rights. It's a questionable accusation, but the facts cannot be disregarded. Women must travel at all times with a male guardian. They cannot drive or vote. The black veil they must wear covers their eyes. Lots of public spaces are segregated with "No Women" signs. Hey, to one's own opinion, but... at the very least, one could call it a lack of freedom.

The following is the link to a video of a Saudi Princess retelling her tale:
https://themuslimissue.wordpress.com/2012/11/09/video-saudi-princess-describes-the-treatment-of-women-in-saudi-arabia-as-slavery/

Her experiences are hauntingly similar to Sultana's, and they may or may not be entirely the same person. Coincidence? I think not. The truth of the story is, there are countless Sultana's living amidst the brutality of their fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons. There are countless stories of women old and young, rich and poor, who all yearn for freedom. There are countless spirits waiting to be freed.

It's important to note that this book was written waaaayy baacck wheeen in 1992 when Saudi Arabia was first opening its arms towards modernization. Slow changes have been made, and... now women have the right to vote - *disclaimer* starting in 2015. Yay, what a let down. But in all seriousness many violations still occur. The driving ban has not been lifted, and recently in 2008,  Wajeha al-Huwaider gained international fame after a film of her driving was posted to Youtube.

In light of the events of 9/11, and more recently, the Women 2 Drive campaign, many people around the globe (cough, mostly us 'Muricans) still hold a negative perspective of the Islamic religion. The Qu'ran does not actually explicitly state that women should be treated any less than their male counterparts- their relationship to God (Allah) is the same. Men are considered a degree above women, but keep in mid that during the dinosaur age (7th century, for you history geeks), most women of other religions were seen as nothing more than possessed, soulless, sinful creatures. So by those standards, the Muslims were pretty avant-garde. The "oppressive" regime is probably caused more by the factors of the Saudi culture, rather than the factors of Islam. In plain English, some of us are ignorant fools! Look no further than Twitter (#islamopobia) for justification.

Take a closer look around you. We see all forms of oppression in all cultures and societies. Saudi Arabia's example of violation of women's rights is an especially extreme example. The fight for freedom is so commonplace that we often don't stop to acknowledge it and participate ourselves. From the book, you can begin to dull the lines drawn between the western movement and Saudi Arabian movement on women's rights. Though we stand up in different ways, and stand for different beliefs, we all stand behind one mantra: Fight for freedom... it is priceless.

It is a funny story...

It's Kind of a Funny Story. Really. I'm serious.

I have this theory that the title of a book determines its fate.

Gasp! Connie is judging a book by its cover!

Fortunately in this case, It's Kind of a Funny Story has lived up to its name- in the most subtle, contradictory, hear-wrenching way. 

Craig is a 15 year-old high school guy. He's interested in three things: 1) Getting good grades so he can go to a good college and therefore get a good job. 2) Getting more good grades to impress girls, and, 3) Getting more and more good grades all while acting cool and going to parties. He's an ambitious student (no duh) who strives to get into the prestigious Executive Pre-Professional High School in Manhattan. Wow, that was a mouthful. The pressure to succeed builds up and his internal anxiety finally erupts. Craig finds himself clinically depressed. In his own words, 
“I can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know?” 

When asked by his Shrink about things in life he does enjoy, he replies simply, "...Peeing.Yeah, it's simple." "You like simple?" "Doesn't everyone?"

Craig's thoughts soon turn suicidal. One night, he heads to the Brooklyn Bridge, to do the unthinkable. Luckily, he calls the Suicide Hotline and lands himself in a psychiatric hospital where he meets a girl who scarred her own face with scissors, a transgender addict, and other people who, he realizes,  are equally as messed up as he is.

Who would've guessed that such a serious topic could be translated into... well, a funny story? In a way, all 444 pages congregate into a huge paradoxical metaphor for life. 

Yup. Another life lesson: The journey of self discovery is difficult but worthwhile. 
Hehe... I guess that was a good time to sneak in the theme.

Several times throughout the novel, Craig's Cycling thoughts race around in his head so fast, that he feels exhausted from just ...being. 
“I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.” 

Despite the immense amount of pain Craig dealt with, also he manages to offer some surprising pieces of advice. 
“Things to do today:
1) Breathe in.
2) Breathe out.” 

It's evident that his voice is genuine. After doing some research (thanks to Google), I found out that Ned Vizzini, the author, based Craig's story off his own struggles with depression. What's interesting is, Craig comes from a privileged family who sincerely supports him. His parents and sister are loving and kind, and... normal. In a good way. Most times, we tend to relate suicide with kids from disadvantaged backgrounds- it's true in a lot of cases- but not his. 

I think this seemingly minute detail is what truly makes the theme of this book outstanding. Vizzini's story extends beyond our preconceived notions of mental illness and allows us to recognize the individual battles being fought by all 7,271,978 homo sapiens inhabiting this planet. (Again, let's applaud Google.) People who appear to have plastically perfect lives may be enveloped in a disguise- whether it be depression, anxiety, stress, poverty, discrimination- we all have something that sends our brains into Cycling mode. Perhaps we should all listen to Craig, a boy so mature beyond his years, yet still riding through the ups and downs of an endless journey. Perhaps we should pause in our steps and allow ourselves to just breathe in, breathe out... 

It's Kind of Funny, how we as living beings have to learn to live all while living. By using charming wit and the right amount of sarcasm, the author has created a delicate balance that strikes the right tone- the funny yet realistic voice of the main character humanizes his experience while not making too much light of it.  

I'm sure you've all seen online blogs with pictures and captions targeting self harm. We can argue 24/7 about whether or not these posts and photos actually "romanticize" depression. We can debate on and on about the correctness of suicide and honoring its victims. We can simultaneously find fault or merit in books like It's Kind of a Funny Story. 

In the end, however, it boils down to one thing: depression is not a black hole that sucks you in and keeps you prisoner. It's a place where your brain crawls to when it starts to wander off. Reading It's Kind of a Funny Story made me laugh and cry and develop dark circles under my eyes... and most importantly, it empowered me. While I (unapologetically) sympathized and empathized with the characters, I realized that, indeed, "Not all those that wander are lost". As long as you search, they'll always be find a way to find home. 

So, keep looking.
Keep living.

Best of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I'm wearing my heavy boots today...
One chapter down in Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and my tear ducts are already exhausted.
I blame it on Mr. Jonathan Foer's novel. Oskar Schell is a 9 year boy (and among other things, an entomology enthusiast, Francophile, detective-in-training, jeweler, tambourine percussionist, vegan, and collector of keys), who takes the reader on an unimaginable journey after the death of his father. Thomas Schell died on 9/11, and as the Twin Towers collapsed, so did Oskar's life. After finding a key that might reveal his dad's last message, Oskar begins a search for healing. 


Embedded in this linguistic metaphor are two extremely incredible characters (See what I did there?) If there was to be a superlative for the "Most unrealistically captivating person" person, Oskar would reign as the champion. His endearing personality has been, arguably, the best part of the book so far. Yup, all 16 pages. (Hey, I'm no Usain Bolt when it comes to reading.) Here's one example of his charming wit:


"What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls?...You could hear everyone's heartbeat...The finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon would sound like war."


After reading just one narrated paragraph, I felt like I'd stumbled into the Encyclopedia and got trampled over by giraffes on the way out. No, more like 2 ton wildebeests. His character's voice is so...overwhelming that it works in the book's favor. Oskar divulges his raisins d'être, blathers about limos, and prattles on about crystal chandeliers, all in one sentence. However, his river of thoughts eventually trickle down into a dam built out of grief and sorrow. When Oskar reminisces the Worst Day, he wears "heavy boots", gets anxious about skyscrapers, and makes philosophical statements like these: 

“I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live.” 

(Pretty deep for a 9 year old, huh? Someone call Socrates.) 

“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.” 

Clearly, this kid is a genius. His witty comments and thoughtful  sentiments somehow reduce me to a puddle of laughs and tears. Even though I've only read approximately 8396 words (eh, rough estimate), I can already hear Oskar's voice loud and clear, even I'm not even close to finishing. (I'm way to good at this.) His blunt, yet sweet memories of his loving father was enough to make me think of someone I know- my own Dad. 


In a way, I feel that one of the most rewarding experiences form reading realistic fiction is being able to see the world from the eyes of another human being. Okay, maybe 9 year old prodigies aren't so much of the "norm", and yeah, its pretty hard to relate to conjugating French verbs, but... its the same shared feeling that connects us. *Cue the dramatic music.* The loss of a family member, the feeling of emptiness, the search for a new beginning- these are real. Everyone has days when they wear their heavy boots. 


So, as I continue to shuffle through the following chapters (at a turtle's pace, nonetheless), I will definitely look forward to reading both Oskar and his dad's stories. And hopefully, I will finish the book with a wiser cranium, a stronger heart, and lighter boots.

The Help Book Review

Over the summer, I laid my hands on the cover of The Help, expecting to become buried under mounds of cheesy, overused themes. White people have hair, so do black people. Oh, and white people have toes, and so do-However, I was pleasantly surprised.

The Help tells the journey of two black maids living in Jackson, Mississippi, during the unfortunate times of the 1960s. Aibileen and Minny, two hardworking women, are burdened from low wages and unfair Jim Crow laws. What starts off as a small quibble soon rises to a full-blown fight (That escalated quickly!), when the two are no longer allowed to use the bathroom in the house which they clean. They are not the only ones complaining; Mrs. Skeeter, an awkwardly tall southern lady also expresses her concerns. Together, the three form an unlikely friendship. Working undercover, they collect stories from all the black Jackson maids, fighting at odds with one of the most demanding bosses, Miss. Holly. 

From a glance, The Help may appear to be a bland tale filled with bookish characters and lifeless plots. Don't be fooled, children. This work has enough flavor and spice to impress even the pickiest of book eaters. Not only are the characters fangirl worthy, the action never failed to send my brain into steroid mode. I got lots of paper cuts from my frantic page flipping.
 
All of the characters were wonderfully crafted and very believable. When Miss Skeeter quipped, "Stuart needs 'space' and 'time,' as if this were physics and not a human relationship," I wanted to give my girl a high five. When Cecilia suffered through a fourth miscarriage, I wanted to bury my head in a pillow and... cut some onions. When Miss Holly donated to “the Poor Starving Children of Africa” even though she treats her black maids like dogs, I wanted to slap her right then and there. 

The plot was also intriguing and lively, and although collecting stories for a book may seem like a Little Women anecdote, the strange twist of events has kept me from going to bed before midnight. Also, the occasional jab of humor and sass was maintained at just the right level. A lovely example- “Mississippi is like my mother. I am allowed to complain about her all I want, but God help the person who raises an ill word about her around me, unless she is their mother too.”

So far, I've given this book excellent ratings, so I guess I have to nitpick a little, because it's fun to complain. The only thing that really bothered me was the dialogue. Throughout the story, Stockett writes with a very "unique" voice. The main character, Abeline, often speaks with a thick dialer, heavy slang, and limited vocabulary. I can't tell you how many times the words "Law have mercy", and "I reckon I’m on do it" have passed under my rolling eyes. Here's an extreme example of some overused, stereotypical diction:
“Ugly live up on the inside. Ugly be a hurtful, mean person.”Of course, I have no right to be completely judgmental. I was not born in Deep South during the 60s. Oh, and yeah... I'm not black. (Sorry, was that too blunt?) As a reader, I have no idea whether or not the characters' voices were authentic. Some people may find the diction to be offensive and degrading, and I have read lots of... unpleasant, so to say, comments about Stockett's racist perspective (with some colorful language, I might add). Hmm, very ironic since the book itself is about the culture differences that define a person. Is Stockett being racist when she portrays Aibileen as an uneducated, "uncultured" black maid? As I kept turning the pages, I found myself pondering this question over and over again. Perhaps she is attempting at satire to prove how ignorant society is. Perhaps she really is indeed, a "smug White Lady" writing "horrifically stereotyped voices". (I'm sorry, I wish I had made those quotes up. Unfortunately, they come directly from Goodreads.) Personally, I think that the characters' voices were nothing but an occasional annoyance. It can be overwhelming at times, but overall, I found myself enjoying Minny's sassy jabs and Aibileen's southern drawl.  
If you need a book to make you cry, laugh, and think all at the same time, I suggest you stop by Barnes and Noble right now. Lovers of historical fiction, realistic fiction, and long novels should also come along. And if you aren't an avid reader, or are too lazy to get up and physically scan your eyes across the letters (don't worry, I feel you), go the Netflix and check out the movie version. I have never seen this before, but four Oscar nominations can't be too bad. 

Oh, and remember how I predicted that the theme would be cheesy?
Well, I was right about that. But, no matter how much I wanted to not buy into the overused moral, I have to admit that the  repeating message could never have been delivered more cleverly and clearly.
“Wasn't that the point of the book? For women to realize, We are just two people. Not that much separates us. Not nearly as much as I'd thought..."
Indeed, Kathryn Stockett's The Help masterfully and artistically proves just this- that we are not as different from one another as we seem.