The Tiger's Wife: Old Book But Timeless Read

In this fine age of paranormal thrillers and perfect gushy love stories, I am searching for something different. Something that conveys a feeling of dark, gritty uneasiness with a twist of audaciousness. Something powerful and reckless and that leaves a good taste in your mouth. Something that you can’t get from a book written for a group of giggly tween girls. So when I read the summary for the book The Tigers Wife, by Tea Obreht, I was interested. Finally, a story that doesn’t involve romances with a vampire or any other supernatural being. From that moment on, I decided I would read this book. I would read it for its mysterious angle and unconventional plot, to be entertained and left dazzled by its complex story line. But mostly I would read it to support and promote a book without vampires or any other generic, cliché teenage plots.

The Tigers Wife is the story of Natalia Stefanovic, a young doctor in an unnamed Balkan country. Natalia’s goal in life is to be a good doctor and help the people uprooted and left reeling at the conclusion of the war. But when Natalia’s grandfather passes away abruptly, Natalia is stricken. She knows why he died, but no one else does. As Natalia struggles with the truth behind her grandfather’s death, she remembers the stories he told her when she was young. The stories that changed his life and eventually changed hers. The stories of the tiger’s wife and of the deathless man.  

Deep in the mountains a long time ago, existed the village of Galina. It was a small village, a village that you couldn’t even find on a map. In this village Natalia’s grandfather was born. He was born here and lived here and, until the tiger came, spent the whole first part of his life trying to escape from here.

When the tiger came to Galina he was called “the devil in the fiery pajamas”. No one could understand why he was there. It must not be for a good reason; no tiger would come to a tiny village just to be a pet. Therefore, he must be there for bad. “To commit the deeds of the devil and steal all of the livestock”. Everyone wanted her gone, except Natalia’s grandfather and the butchers wife.

They called her the tiger’s wife. Partly because of her bond with the tiger but also because no one really knew her name, not even her real husband, the butcher. If you would’ve asked anyone in the village they would’ve told you that no one had ever heard the tiger’s wife make a noise. She never talked and she never interacted with anyone.  Because of this, she was a mystery to everyone in the village. And according to them, anything that was mysterious could not be good. Eventually their hatred for the tiger and his wife boiled over and demanded a solution. A solution that Natalia’s grandfather never forgot.

After reading The Tiger’s Wife, I was surprised. I read this book because I thought it would be different and unique, but it was more than that. Tea Obreht’s writing style in the league with a classic writer. Her long and intricate sentences move in a way that could be like they are telling the story through a song. This adds to the overall dreaminess and old timey-ness of each story told by Natalia’s grandfather. If I didn’t know better, I would have said this book was written back in the 1900s and not just a few years ago.

For a writer who wasn’t even born to witness the wars she writes about, Tea Obrehts retelling of the Balkan wars read like a firsthand account of a soldier who fought in them. And for a person who’s native language is one few of us have heard of, her take on English I think is better than mine at some times. She uses both of these strategies to compose the great story of the Tiger’s Wife.

My Top Five Books

Blog Post 7

To me a good story is a good story no matter what genre it is. If it’s fiction or nonfiction, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s entertaining and meaningful.  I’ve read plenty of fiction novels and memoirs to conclude that they are basically the same thing. Both genres are written by an author who’s just trying to pass on a story, true or not. That’s why I think that the line between fiction and memoirs should be discarded.

When I read A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, I was fascinated with his story. All the things he went through were crazy and tough. But when I found out that some of what he had written was false, it didn’t bother me. I didn’t care that part of his story didn’t happen, that he had made it up. To me, James’s story was just that: a story. While I was reading it, I never took it as complete truth. I just read it like I would any other book; as a piece of literature that was entertaining and controversial. Which is the way I think it should be read. If there wasn’t a line between fiction in memoirs then maybe people would read books this way. You wouldn’t expect everything to be true in a memoir, and authors wouldn’t have to categorize their writing in a set genre. They would be able to be creative and experiment with their stories. Without set the set genres, then people would be more open to new books they wouldn’t have read before.  

Blog Post 6

My goal in life as always has been to produce something great. Something touching and powerful and bigger than anything else I could ever do. Something intellectual and controversial and timeless. Something that would make people look up to me and respect me for what I made. I wanted to make something so I could believe in something. Be a part of something. Be known for something. I wanted to be a writer. And I wanted my greatness, my everlasting legacy, to be a book. A book that lasts forever, that has a timeless message and a powerful heart. I wanted this book to be like the classic books that I lived in. The books that I imagined my life to be like, with the characters I modeled myself after. Through this book I’d be like the historical writers I admired so much. Through this book I’d be a story teller and a visionary, someone I’d always wanted to be. My name would last forever along with my ideas and my lessons. To me, this was the most I could get out of life. The furthest up I could fly before falling back down to myself. Back down to whom I’m supposed to be.

For me this belief started when I read my first classic book. I got lost in the timeless story line and effortless, beautiful writing. I realized that there was more in this book than the books I had been reading. There was a bigger message; a more powerful point than I had expected. I loved it.  So I read more classic books, until those were the only ones I read.

It makes me sad to think that I would have never discovered some of my favorite books if I didn’t have to read them in school. If Mr. Goetz hadn’t made me read To Kill a Mockingbird for sophomore English, I would have never picked it up. I would have missed out on an important story that Mockingbird offers. An important story that’s not only an entertaining story but also contains a meaningful lesson; because these books are more than just stories. They aren’t written to be entertaining or to make money, they are written because the author believes in something. Something that they want to pass along and make others believe. I feel like a lot of authors these days just write books to be writing. They have no goal but to make money and have their name out there. Their writing seems forced and cliché; without depth or feeling. For me this isn’t inspiring, it doesn’t want to make read their books, let alone write one of my own. If these were the only books we read in school, then what we get out of class would be lacking. We need to read classic books to experience true literature, to teach ourselves how writing should be done, how to write to make it mean something. Without this, then all of our books will be meaningless.  

Book Two Project- Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Film adaptation of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

I think that everyone’s goal in life is to be the best they can be, to have the most they can have, and be as happy as possible. Whether it be teaching or painting or writing or acting, everyone’s going to play up their talent until they can get the most use out of it and accomplish this goal. So when an author writes a bestselling novel, a novel that is read by thousands of people and makes tons of money, why wouldn’t they play it up and want to get the most out of it? Why wouldn’t they want to make that novel into a movie? It would be a plus for both parties. The author gets more money and the reader gets an extension to the story.

When I was younger I never would have watched a movie adaptation before I read the book. But now that I’m and almost-adult it doesn’t matter so much to me. If a movie adaptation looks good, then I’ll go and see it, even if I haven’t read the books. I’m not sure why this changed for me. Maybe it’s because now I don’t have enough time to actually read the book first, or maybe it’s because I was disappointed in the adaptation too many times. Whatever the reason, it really doesn’t matter. If the film adaptation is good, then it’s good. Whether it comes before the book or after. That is why I think it would be hard for someone to make Extremely Loud into a movie. There’s too much to explain to make it a movie that would be good before the book. People would be confused.

There are many scenes that contribute to the importance of the book. One that I think would have to be in the movie is the scene when Oskar comes home on 9/11 and hears his dad calling, but doesn’t answer. I think that this scene is important because it’s probably one of the main reasons why Oskar searches the city for the owner of his dad’s key. He feels guilty for not answering so he devotes his life to figuring out his dads’ last mission.

The second scene that I think would have to be in the movie is the scene where Oskar finds the key. This scene would tell the audience why Oskar even started his mission. The location of the key is also an important factor for later on in the book.

The last scene that I think defiantly needs to be in the movie is when Oskar tells his mom that he wished it was her who had died and not his dad. This scene is important because it really shows the strained relationship between the mother and son. Oskar doesn’t feel close with her anymore and he feels like she doesn’t care about his dads’ death because she doesn’t act sad. This belief of his mom is also a factor that contributes to Oskar’s need to find the owner of the key.

There are always parts to a book that don’t totally need to be there. A scene that doesn’t have to be included in the movie adaptation of Extremely Loud is of the grandparents’ part. When they talk about their life together and all of the nothing and something spaces, it doesn’t have a lot to do with Oskar. Taking out this part would not be detrimental to the plot of the movie.  

The second scene that I would take out of the movie is when Oskar rides in the limo on the way to his dads’ funeral. I don’t feel like a lot of stuff happens during this scene. I think if you took it out, the audience wouldn’t lose anything important.

To be an author deciding what parts of your book got made into a movie would be a hard thing. In Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, there are many parts that are important for the overall message of the book. They all have to be included for the book to make sense. It would be hard to fit them all into a 2 hour movie. That is why I’m curious to see the movie and decide if it’s better or worse than the book.

The White Tiger Charity Foundation

After reading the book, The White Tiger, by Aravind Adiga, I have to ask myself if I’m grateful for what I have. When I’m eating food from my fridge that’s always stocked or taking a shower with hot, running water do I even think about why I have these things and where they came from? For most people living in “our world” hot water and fresh food are a given; something that’s always there. These things to us are necessities. But to some people, people living in “other worlds”, these things are luxuries. How would I feel if I lived in one of these worlds? A world where running water is only found in streams and fresh food is something they have to pick from trees. If it were me, I’d be searching for a way out. For Balram, the main character in The White Tiger, his only way out was schooling. He would go to school every day to someday be able to leave the poverty of his world; to be able to be his own boss and not “stay a slave to the darkness forever.” (35) Unfortunately though, for Balram and many other under privileged children like him, the reality of his situation caught up to him. “The one infallible law of life in the Darkness is that good news becomes bad news- and soon.”(30) The good news was his education, but the bad news was that his education had come to an end. Like many kids before him, Balram’s obligation to help out his family had him dropping out of school to get a job. This decision left him without any opportunities to leave the status quo and have a better life.

In India, about 90% of children attend primary school each year. But only about 20% of those children go on to attend secondary school. (Kevin Watkins) This means that 80% of the children in India are not getting the schooling they need to lead successful lives. That’s a pretty big statistic, one that leaves me thinking about why nothings being done to keep India’s kids in school. I wonder, how do we expect a country to be successful and grow if they aren’t able to learn how? Maybe many people have already asked themselves this same question, maybe even come up with their own solution, one that they thought was bound to change the world. Well, I have a solution of my own, one that’s pretty simple: a charity program to help kids in school. If what the children need to get schooling and graduate is money, then why not give it to them? In America, many of us have money to spare, money that could go to a good cause. We can start a charity in The White Tigers name that would go to paying for kids schooling and also for school supplies and building more schools in India.

There are many books out in the world. Romance, action, thriller, adventure and drama are just a few of the numerous genres to pick from.  In my opinion though, there’s not one genre that’s better than the others. Whether it’s a love story between two high school sweethearts or a race around the world to find out “who done it”, it has the potential to be a great book as long as it has substance and purpose. The book The White Tiger has both of these things plus more. It’s the story of the underdog rising above his stereotype and finding a way to become what he wanted to. It also focuses a lot on the poverty issue in India. If there was a charity connected to this book, trying to solve this issue, it would earn much needed publicity. People would see the good that this foundation was doing and buy the book that started it all. Not only would this be good for the author, it would be good for the world. We’d be helping out a nation that’s stuck in the dark and at the same time selling a book that deserves to be read. For me, this is the solution that solves what Adiga wrote about in The White Tiger. He saw all of the darkness in India and tried to bring it to light by writing this book. If you had a chance to answer his call and resolve this problem, wouldn’t you take it?

Graph of world literacy rates. America is at 97% whereas India is at 60-70%.

 

For more reading on this issue visit: http://wamu.org/news/morning_edition/12/02/21/graduation_rates_increase_around_the_globe_as_us_plateaus

http://www.riazhaq.com/2011/08/pakistan-ahead-of-india-in-graduation.html

A Book is My Script

When I was little, I couldn’t wait to learn how to read. I’d listen to my mom read from books with beautiful pictures and I’d think she was the most talented person in the world. I wanted to learn the stories for myself; to be able to read the words that unfolded new thoughts and words I’d never heard of. I wanted to be the one with the talent, the one to tell new stories and come up with the new worlds.

The first book I ever read by myself was The Tale of Mr. Todd by Beatrix Potter. When I was little it was my favorite book because I loved the characters and the pictures. But when I read it by myself I remember thinking about the story in a different way. The characters had different voices and different personalities. I could put my own voice to them; say their dialogue the way I wanted instead of listening to the way my mom read it. It changed the story to me; it made it better. When I was mad, Mr. Todd could be mad too. And when I was happy, Mr. Todd was also happy. I controlled their emotions with my voice and my talent.

To me, being able to read is what makes me fit into the world. When I’m reading, I’m doing what millions of other people can do too. It’s a form of communication and a way of tying all of us together. Without reading, there’s no letters or signs, no text messages or magazines. There’s no way to write things down or way to make words last forever. But the worst is, there’d be no books. Books, for me, were the one thing I could control. The dialogue, the emotions; I read them how I wanted to. They were my own personal script, a way to mold a story into what I wanted it to be. Without books, I’d lose that control, that element that was all mine. I’d have nothing to direct, no script to read. Without books I’d have no lines.  

Why I Read........

When I was little, I was afraid of everything. Big or small, imaginary or not; I was terrified. At four years old I weighed 27 and stood about 3 feet tall; I knew I had no chance against and monster or a stranger who chose to mess with me. So when that ghost I knew haunted the first floor bathroom chose to show itself, my strategy was to run and hide.

I soon discovered the best place to hide in my house: my grandfather’s library. With its large, detailed rugs, and tall rows of books, it soon had me forgetting about that shadow in the bathroom. I felt safe among the worn leather chairs and warm sunlight that streamed in through the bay windows. I could stay there for hours, exploring the old books and discovering new pictures. In the library I wasn’t me anymore. I was a princess or a pirate or anything that I wanted to be. And I certainly wasn’t afraid of anything; the library made me brave. It was my sanctuary from my fear, from what I couldn’t face.

Even though that library’s long gone, destroyed and gutted of its books, the thought of it still makes me feel safe. It reminds me that if I pick up a book and read its story, I can escape from whatever’s frightening me. This is why I read; to feel safe and secure in some other world. To be able to put my life aside and become someone else. I read because not only was the library my sanctuary, but the books have become one too.