It’s almost July, and I think this would be the best book of the year for me.
This could be finished in one setting, but I let life get in the way. However, there were times where I did it on purpose because it’s so engaging that I didn’t want this read to end so quickly.
As someone who has minimal to near zero understanding of the world of performance arts, I was skeptical at first. I assumed, that I wouldn’t be able to ‘get’ this book. But I was so wrong. It’s written in a way that could capture your heart and soul. That would draw you into the world of performance arts without you realizing it – that you’ve learned a little of their world.
I might be able to finish it soon, real soon, but I’m refusing to. I really want to savor every remaining bit of the stories, the pages.
Men We Reaped
Worst part of the book? I think it’s about the Chinese girl trying not to get bullied and hence chose to hate on blacks so that she could “be” left alone by the whites – by hating on the blacks. It’s disgusting, having to publicly express hatred toward another race in order to survive in a f*cking school. A f*cking school. Only in America? Don’t think so. I didn’t go to school with kids from other races until my teens. Even then, they were considered ‘exotic’ because there were so few of them. We actually wanted to make friends with them, because their culture is different, intriguing, something we don’t get to experience probably because our country’s school system is so segregated it’s f*cking ridiculous.
Before reading this book, I never had to have an opinion about their way of life, their culture. After all, I live in Asia. There are no Gypsies here. While I’m aware of how certain people hate them (why, what for), I never dug deeper beyond the stereotypical “all Gypsies are thieves and uncouth” line. I did have first-hand conversations with Europeans (friends, ex-colleagues) about the Romany people, but they weren’t white supremacists so there weren’t much to hate on beyond those lines. So I’ve finished the book – Still no opinion. It’s their way of life. To the normal society, they are in dire need to change or “be changed” (i.e. continue to be discriminated against until their culture vanishes altogether). It’s sad, it’s tragic. It’s no different than oppressed little girls forced to go through FGM or marry old men at the tender age of 5.
Hard to put down. But as always I’ll take at least a week to finish it since I read few books at time and only read an average of two to three hours a day, before bedtime.
I have two books about and written by Gypsies, the other one’s Bury Me Standing (#125 here), which I started two years ago but somehow lost interest less than halfway through. Not this one.
Not much to write for now, but a gentle reminder to everyone: Hate comes from ignorance, intolerance. And it comes and goes both ways.
- Reading “Between The World and Me” by Ta-Nehisi Coates before this helped, a, lot.
- I wish there were like, 22 more chapters, at least.
That is all. Gave it a 5 on Goodreads.
I’m 21% through and I’m already recommending it. Hisham Matar has written two fiction works prior to this memoir.
I decided to read this first, before diving into Lindsey Hilsum’s Sandstorm (also on Libya).
Waiting for my boba again. I know. I shouldn’t be drinking too much boba… But… I’m Asian. Excuses, excuses…
I didn’t purchase this, although it took a lot of willpower not too. That’s because I have more than 100 purchased and yet to be read books sitting in my Kindle. How can I possibly do this to myself?
It won a Pulitzer Prize. And yet the ‘readers’ on Amazon collectively decides (decided) that it’s only worth 3 stars. This is why I don’t care much for reviews. For all we know, they’re jealous frauds, or people who are anti-MJ. Or people who really wouldn’t know what to look for in books that talk about sensitive matters. Whatever it is.