評論
打印
12歲的阿富汗富家少爺阿米爾與仆人哈桑情同手足。然而，在一場風箏比賽后，發生了一件悲慘不堪的事，阿米爾為自己的懦弱感到自責和痛苦，逼走了哈桑，不久，自己也跟隨父親逃往美國。
成年后的阿米爾始終無法原諒自己當年對哈桑的背叛。為了贖罪，阿米爾再度踏上暌違二十多年的故鄉，希望能為不幸的好友盡最后一點心力，卻發現一個驚天謊言，兒時的噩夢再度重演，阿米爾該如何抉擇？小說如此殘忍而又美麗，作者以溫暖細膩的筆法勾勒人性的本質與救贖，讀來令人蕩氣回腸。
I'm told no one was really surprised when Sanaubar eloped. People"had"raised their eyebrows when Ali, a man who had memorized the Koran, married Sanaubar, a woman nineteen years younger, a beautiful but notoriously unscrupulous woman who lived up to her dishonorable reputation. Like Ali, she was a Shi'a Muslim and an ethnic Hazara. She was also his first cousin and therefore a natural choice for a spouse. But beyond those similarities, Ali and Sanaubar had little in common, least of all their respective appearances. While Sanaubar's brilliant green eyes and impish face had, rumor has it, tempted countless men into sin, Ali had a congenital paralysis of his lower facial muscles, a condition that rendered him unable to smile and left him perpetually grimfaced. It was an odd thing to see the stone-faced Ali happy, or sad, because only his slanted brown eyes glinted with a smile or welled with sorrow. People say that eyes are windows to the soul. Never was that more true than with Ali, who could only reveal himself through his eyes.
I have heard that Sanaubar's suggestive stride and oscillating hips sent men to reveries of infidelity. But polio had left Ali with a twisted, atrophied right leg that was sallow skin over bone with little in between except a paper-thin layer of muscle. I remember one day, when I was eight, Ali was taking me to the bazaar to buy some "naan". I was walking behind him, humming, trying to imitate his walk. I watched him swing his scraggy leg in a sweeping arc, watched his whole body tilt impossibly to the right every time he planted that foot. It seemed a minor miracle he didn't tip over with each step. When I tried it, I almost fell into the gutter. That got me giggling. Ali turned around, caught me aping him. He didn't say anything. Not then, not ever. He just kept walking.
Ali's face and his walk frightened some of the younger children in the neighborhood. But the real trouble was with the older kids. They chased him on the street, and mocked him when he hobbled by. Some had taken to calling him "Babalu", or Boogeyman.
"Hey, Babalu, who did you eat today?" they barked to a chorus of laughter. "Who did you eat, you flat-nosed Babalu?"
