Kalhed Hosseini’s And the Mountains Echoed was November choice for the North London Book Club. Unfortunately, I could not discuss it with the others, since I was busy moving house and trying to hold on my life together. While now I am pretty much settled in the new house, I would not really say the same for my life, but here we go.
And the Mountains Echoed is a collection of short stories revolving around the members of a family in Afghanistan (and France, and US), and follows them from the 1950s to the present time. Each member of the family differently experiences the story of their country and brings to the reader a different facet of Afghan daily strives and joys.
The book is beautifully written and I found myself captured by the magnificent sensory descriptions, especially in the first stories. The plot is well constructed and gives a very good insight of life of Afghans before and after the war(s).
However, this book did not really kindle my interest. Personally, I am not often intrigued by collection of short stories, because they hardly grip my attention, or they do not manage to keep me interested to the end of the book. This probably contributed to my judgement of And The Mountains Echoed: although all the stories are interwined, I found that the main point too diluted.
This book has all the potential to be a great reading, but, alas, it was not my cup of tea.