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I'm male and white, was raised in an upper middle class family, and am quite conscious of all the privilege that comes with that background. I've done what I can to overcome the blinders that are associated with my lot in life. Things like (as a physician) working with AIDS extensively, when it was still a death sentence, working on an American Indian reservation for three years, practicing in areas of the United States where contact with people with radically different, and far less privileged, than my own was a daily part of life. I marched in Washington, D.C. on the day after Trump's inauguration with 500,000 women, including my daughter and wife. All that said, literature has often been my best route to new levels of understanding. The Color Purple, Alice Walker's masterpiece, for example, permanently altered my understanding about poverty, opened my eyes to the abuse women are so often subjected to, and permanently cleansed me of homophobia.
Girls Burn Brighter, like The Color Purple, left me permanently altered in the way that I view the world: what it is like to live in a country where the percapita annual income is less than $900, how women are routinely treated in South Asia, the extent of human trafficking in so many countries, including our own, and much more. Shobha Rao manages in this novel to vividly portray the plight of two young girls whose culture and gender expose them to horrific psychological and physical trauma while somehow managing to avoid crushing the reader into despair.
As a reader, I can only take so much, no matter how well written, information about the depravities that humans wreak upon one another, or in this case, men wreak upon women. Shobha Rao, though, writes this novel as if she is holding a candle up for the reader, leading him/her through the dark cave of human behavior, but always preventing the total extinction of light. It is very difficult for me to think of another book that so honestly portrays suffering and injustice, yet is so engaging, even enthralling, from cover to cover.
Shoba Rao is a master of suspense. Not in the Dan Brown (e.g. DaVinci Code) or Hitchcock tradition. Not in anyone's tradition but her own. Her method of suspense building demands a discriminating reader, one that requires that you, the reader, immerse him/herself in the situation, consider the tools available, map a course that YOU would take, then adjust to curves that the author throws at you. Rao won't problem solve for you, she asks your attention and commitment. And she won't let you off the hook until the very last sentence.
Two girls, one named after the moon, one after the sun, both with an inner light that illuminates the reader's passage through the darker reaches of human nature. A story that is intricately woven partially through the literal inclusion of weaving (including that of an indigo sari) in the plot. Rao ultimately creates a tapestry that this upper middle class white male, even through the fog of associated privilege, will not be able to forget.
5 of 5 people found this review helpful
This is an interesting story with two intriguing main characters. But the author can’t seem to use one metaphor or simile when two or ever three would do. The writing is overly descriptive in ways that are meant to be poetic but end up boring. The worst part of the audible version is the reader who uses a constant plaintive tone that becomes tiresome and annoying. If this had not been my book clubs choice I would never have finished it.
2 of 2 people found this review helpful